Parenting Special Needs, What You Don’t See

Five and a half years ago, we took Little Man out of public school when his mental health tanked. And since then we’ve had a journey of navigating doing school at home while learning how to manage mental health. All on top of my very unexpected Kundalini awakening, which rolls on. When my soul made all sorts of plans and agreements before diving into this body, I swear I must have been high as a kite. “Sure thing! I can do this! No problem! In fact, let’s pile on a bunch more because dysfunctionality is fun as all get out!”

Not to get too far off track, but my son’s public school buddies graduated yesterday. Kids he played with when he was very little, before elementary school. Kids he played with who we met during his three years in a developmental preschool. And kids he went to elementary school with, with whom he had many playdates and birthday parties. All but one of these friends is heading out from high school to either higher education of some sort or to work. They all have a plan and know where they’re going. Except one -a dear friend’s daughter.

Between my entire energetic system being rewired from a recent intense healing session, seeing my son’s old friends move on without him, having Little Man fight me tooth and nail when it came to getting his school work done, and the recent eclipse (so an intuitive friend tells me), yesterday was a really, really hard day.

As much as I tried to not act out by using food, I did. Not horrendously, but sugar and carbs were definitely my friend last night. And so were tears. Being mostly alone (the teen lives in his bedroom with fans constantly on for white noise, and headphones on, and hubby was at work), after trying to distract myself using food and television, I finally allowed tears to flow. Tears of grief. Tears of all the dreams I had for my son that will never be. Dreams that died one by one. And tears helping my new energy integrate by allowing the old to leave.

Having spent my son’s entire life trying to find the balance between supporting and pushing him, there have been times when the weight of it all broke me. I can’t tell you how many times I found myself in my car outside his elementary school crying, or hiding in my bedroom crying.

These are things that especially happen for parents of special needs kids – when our kids don’t hit milestones like their peers. When our dreams and expectations die one by one. When they’re struggling and nothing we do seems to be helping. And now that they’re finishing high school and are expected to move into independent living: supporting themselves and having relationships, life is getting real in a whole new way.

Some days it seems like all we see is where our kids struggle. Things they don’t understand, skills they lack and may never develop well, and mental health issues that will impact them for life.

There are some supports in place for kids with severe disabilities, ones that impact their lives dramatically. But there are many kids who fall in-between. Kids like Little Man who have struggles in a handful of areas of their lives, but not so severe as to qualify them for state and federal aid. There’s no safety net for them except their family and perhaps friends when they’re older.

This can be a scary time for us. Until we figure out a plan, something we feel good about, until we have some sort of vision for our child who is no longer a child but not yet an adult’s future, this limbo can be fucking miserable.

With so many things coming to a head last night, my girlfriend, a fellow special needs parent, and I both mourned over what would never be. Both of us, having had a particularly rough day, commiserated via emails and texts late at night.

And in the dawn of a new day we go on. We regroup, wipe our tears and try to remember to breathe. We take a minute to take care of ourselves and jump back on the horse. That’s what a special needs parent does. And so often the burden rests primarily on Mom. With no manual on how to raise our kids who are all so very different, we figure it out. One step at a time. Cobbling together information from here and there, finding support from others in the same boat, we figure it the fuck out and go on.

Connection

In late winter of 2015 I was very excited to fulfill a requirement so I could take a workshop that looked fascinating. Deep into learning about energy healing, I wanted to take a Drunvalo Melchizedek workshop, but I had to take a prerequisite first. Jumping onto my computer I searched where and when I could take the workshop as locally as possible. Wouldn’t you know, there was one coming up only weeks away and less than a three hours drive from home. I’d stay a few nights in a local hotel and would get the requirement under my belt. And the timing was perfect because my husband would be home to take care of Little Man the four days I’d be away.

Not really knowing what this particular class entailed, although I’d familiarized myself with Drunvalo’s work, I was open to whatever I learned. My goal was to take this workshop so I could take another one. The thing about these types of workshops is they are a combination of learning new things by listening and taking notes, and having experiences. After learning a bit about a topic, we’d put on room darkening eye shades and sit comfortably while we were led through guided meditations and exercises.

The first two days were focused on healing. Doing a handful of exercises, one of the first ones we did was rebirthing, which was surprisingly powerful. And the second two days were spent in guided meditation doing metaphysical exercises like being led into the tiny space of our heart.

Game for anything and really into what we were doing, when I was instructed to go into the tiny space of my heart, I remembered to keep it light and fun. If you really want to connect intuitively, having a sense of lightness in your heart is key to helping you walk through the door. Especially when it’s something you’ve never done before. So, as we were instructed to go into the tiny space of the heart, I imagined myself a child sliding down a big curved slide, like you might see at a waterpark. And when I hit bottom I was transported.

It was incredible. There were so many things happening all at the same time that my brain had to sequence. I was seeing images, feeling completely unconditional love, and had information dumped into my head, all at the same time. I had connected to the point of unity within myself. The place of Oneness. The place where we connect to Source (God). And what I’ll never forget was the knowledge that we’re all connected. I was shown it, was told it, and knew what it felt like. I have no doubt that although we are unique beings, we’re all made from and part of the same life force energy, and it experiences through us. Everything that exists is part of this life force energy with no exceptions. (Ironically, after this workshop the burning desire to take the subsequent workshop faded away).

I realized that because we’re connected, it’s through connection that our lives become meaningful. It’s through connection we find like-minded people. And through connection we’re able to reach out and help those in need. When I’m having a rough day I might reach out and call a friend, and visa versa. If I get stuck on a project I reach out to the internet for information. We reach out for needed encouragement and we reach out in celebration. It’s much more fun to celebrate with a group of friends than alone.

When I answered a calling to learn about energy healing, studying several different healing modalities, the overarching premise I’ve been learning about is inner reconnection. Looking at healing through a lens of both spiritual teachings, psychology, and quantum physics – where the three overlap – it’s possible to walk through a process of helping a person create changes in their mind, body, and spirit. These days I see all three as being inextricably interconnected. And when healing happens, a person’s life can change.

Using hypnosis to create a lot of inner healing, I’ve seen how and why we become disconnected inside. And what most people don’t understand is it’s part of the human condition. We’re quite literally and physically set up to create inner disconnection from the energetic or spirit world to give us a better chance for survival as physical beings. The irony is these disconnections may not always help us. And in fact, at some point in life often hold us back.

They not only pull us away from our life force energy, but they bring disease and dysfunction into our lives. Disease and dysfunction that can often be healed though an inner reconnection process.

Over the past few years I’ve lived with an energy inside me that’s basically forcing me to reconnect a lot of inner disconnection, and while the process has been more difficult in some ways than it is for others, healing has changed the way I feel about myself and how I perceive the world in general. Dramatically. It’s broadened my ability to see things, deepened my understanding of human emotions and behavior, and when I’m feeling put together, there’s a ton of compassion. I see myself in everyone and everyone in myself. I resonate in some way with everybody. And life just flows more easily. As Louise Hay would say, I get the green lights and the parking spaces.

When we connect to other people in meaningful ways, we realize they want what we all want. To feel validated. To be heard. To be seen and acknowledged. We’re wired for human connection. Be it to others or within ourselves, we all need connection to thrive.

Happy Blog-a-versary to Me!

WordPress sent me a lovely congratulations notification for writing on this blog for eleven years!! Holy cow! I happened to be looking back through one of my old journals the other day and read about having learned so much about raising a kid with sensory issues that I wanted to share what I’d learned. Often times I’ve learned great tips and tricks by connecting with people in the same boat, and wanted to give back. Thus, this blog was born.

That’s so much of how I operate. I’m an avid learner, always curious about something, and after taking in a bunch of info and synthesizing it into something that works for me, I tend to want to turn around and share it in the hopes it helps out someone else.

I’ll never forget sitting with a psychic back in early September of 2011. The first thing she asked me was if I was a teacher. Nope. Not me. Oh hell no. Of course, my impression of a teacher was someone who stood in front of a classroom dealing with a bunch of unruly kids. I finally figured out that teaching, at its essence is taking a concept (or skill) and imparting it to others in such a way that they grasp it. So they get it. And this is actually something I very much enjoy.

And one of my favorite ways to do this is through my own life stories. Blogging actually serves two purposes: to process my own stuff and to share what I’ve learned in the hopes it might either be useful or perhaps inspiring. I’ve never blogged to get lots of followers or views, although I just reached 1000 followers, which is fun. In fact, for the first few years I wrote, I didn’t even know about the statistics or analytics. It’s always been about sharing.

In this way I’ve built a little community. And I’m so thankful to everyone who drops in and joins me for a cup of tea. Thanks all for walking with me along my life’s journey over the past eleven years: one that’s definitely had some really unexpected curveballs.

Empowerment Through Healing

How powerful do you feel? Do you feel like you have the power to control your life? Do you feel like you have very little power when it comes to controlling things in your life? Does feeling powerful have appeal in the first place? Although the word power often has a negative connotation, people who are power hungry or who get off on wielding their power over other people are in fact, deeply disempowered inside. And because of it they only feel powerful when they are controlling things or people around them.

Some of the most meaningful inner shifts I’ve experienced revolve around power, and I’m talking about self-empowerment. Within the whole “you need to learn to love yourself” movement, I’d like to share what I learned about one facet of becoming able to love myself.

When I began to work with a soul-directed hypnotherapist after my parents died, the way she brought in aspects of my higher consciousness to help me, worked really well. It helped me change things about my life quickly and permanently, and one day I wanted to address taking back power I’d given away or had been taken away from me over the course of my life.

Starting off the session, once I was relaxed and focused on her voice, my hypnotherapist had me picture a ball of white light full of intelligent and healing energy shining down on me. When she asked for a guide to come forth from the light to support me, one of my guides came forward, but she didn’t look exactly like she’d looked before. She’d taken on the physicality of a woman I’d been in a former lifetime, with a strong, muscular body and a beautiful yet simple teal/aqua dress with a purple sash around it. A woman who had been the leader of her people. As soon as she joined me, I noticed my heart started thumping hard, like I was scared. My guide took my hand and reassured me that it would be ok, and that she was with me, supporting me.

Picturing a timeline, the goal was to float back to when I first either lost or gave away my personal power. I had trouble finding a stopping point for us. Then I saw a hazy picture of me as a little girl and my mother slapped me. I knew that this had happened. Then I got the impression that part of me was shocked and surprised by this because part of me knew I didn’t deserve that sort of treatment. In that moment, I split into 2. The other part of me knew that if I didn’t do what my mother wanted, I’d get it again: either a slap, spank, or being yelled at.

The hypnotherapist had my guide come into the scene and envelope the two parts of me in a hug and love on us. Afterwards, there was no change. The two parts of me were both sitting on the floor. One was still hurt and disappointed by her mother’s treatment, and the other was scared of her and crying. Then I wondered why nothing (no change) was happening. The more I tried, the more nothing happened. Then I thought about how I usually did this process so easily and so well, with amazing results, but now I couldn’t do it. Then it hit me like a ton of rocks.

“I’m a failure. I’m a failure. I’m a failure. A complete and utter failure. I can’t do anything right.” These words rang out in my head over and over. I felt like such a failure in that moment. Then another epiphany hit like a ton of rocks.

“She put that on me! That bitch! My mother put her shit on me! How dare she. That bitch!!” I’m not the failure, she is. (And she probably got it from her mother who had severe control issues).

So there it was, my mother took my power from me, splitting me in two: the part that knew I was an amazing child of God and the part that was just trying to survive in a human body with a mentally ill mother.

Next I saw a basket style backpack on my back, full of rocks. I took it off, turning it upside down and dumping out the rocks. I knew the rocks were the times my mother took my power. I threw one rock after another straight at her. And another and another. Then I started throwing the rocks off a big cliff. When I looked down at the pile of rocks, it grew bigger and bigger. I hit them off the cliff with a golf club, a softball bat, a broom, I threw them off and kicked them off. There were so many, I eventually got a bulldozer to help push them off the cliff. Then I realized some were for my father. I gave him back the crap of his that I had carried for him. And some were for my older brother. I gave him back his rocks. Then a line of people appeared; nameless, faceless people who were really just forms of people. They represented others in my lifetime who gave me their shit to carry. I gave them each back their rocks. They bowed their heads in shame, and then words appeared on the rocks: several said SHAME. Others said FEAR. Others said ANGER, PAIN, and other things I took on for other people. (I had taken on a lot of shame that was not mine). I gave back everyone else’s shit that they either dumped on me, or I took. These were times when I gave up my power.

I kept up the process until the last bit where I swept the last few rocks off the cliff with a broom. Then I was directed to look at my guide. She was clapping and cheering me on, telling me that I’m amazing. It felt great. When I looked down to make sure every last rock or pebble was gone, there was one more. I couldn’t kick it or hit it off the cliff. It just wouldn’t budge. I wondered what was going on and then the answer came to me.

It was all of the crap from society that I took on. Like, the stuff from the mass consciousness. The crap that the collective put on me. Social programming. With that realization, I easily kicked the rock off the cliff. When that was done, my hypnotherapist asked me how I felt. My spirit felt great, in fact it was soaring, literally. Flying around, like in my dreams as a kid. Then I noticed that my chest felt heavy and I wondered what was going on there.

All of a sudden, my spirit flew into my chest and pushed a little rock out of it. Then another and another. Soon little rocks or pebbles started to pop out of my body here and there. A larger one came out of my tailbone. A whole bunch of pebbles popped out of my spine, from the top all the way to the bottom. They popped out of my feet and all of my joints. They kept popping out. Then, knowledge dropped into me.

I knew that each time I didn’t listen to my inner knowing, my intuition, I betrayed myself. I gave my power away. And that listening to (trusting) my inner knowings is the highest form of self- love because, it’s my direct connection to God. Honoring myself in this way is honoring God.

This was the nugget of gold.

After that, my hypnotherapist had me check in with the two young aspects of myself that came up in the beginning of the session and they were happy and self-assured. Upon wrapping up the session I noticed how incredibly different I felt. I felt more powerful, more empowered than I’d ever felt before. In taking my inner child through a process of reclaiming her power it changed me from the inside out.

There would be other sessions several years later that came back to this issue, like when I took steps to separate from my abusive older brother. Healing more aspects of myself who felt disempowered specifically through my relationship with my brother once again was life-changing.

You can work on feeling powerful by having experiences, taking action and hoping the world moves in the way you want it to, or you can work with your inner world. What I love about addressing my inner world is how quickly I’m able to change and how permanent this change is. It doesn’t mean you’ll always feel powerful in every situation for the rest of your life, but it’s a real game-changer.

Be Best! And Other Crap Advice We’re Given

About five years ago, a campaign for everyone to, “Be Best!” was pushed onto my country and our children. Right off the bat, it was a little confusing. I put phrases like that in a category with, “Be nice!” It tries to say something important, but misses the mark. I’m pretty sure the gist of the campaign was for everyone to be THE BEST!

The thing is, only one person can be the best, which sets everyone up to compete to the death. And in truth, when there are problems to solve and things to work out, coming together in cooperation and sharing information is the best way to go. Telling people to go out there and be the best sounds innocuous enough until you’ve got ones who will go to any length to get there, everyone else be damned.

Another type of advice people seem to always fall for is self-help books that preach organizing your life in ten easy steps, or getting rich in ten easy steps, or finding your perfect partner in ten easy steps. Then they give the reader tasks to do. Usually people get as far as reading the book and taking the first few steps, only to lose enthusiasm by steps four, five, and six.

Don’t people love a recipe for success? A foolproof recipe to follow that will guarantee everything you’ve ever wanted just falling into your lap? So easy, right? Just like baking banana bread.

A few decades ago I was in the same boat, but for me it wasn’t about finding Mr. Right or making money, it was about being able to lose weight and keep it off. I read countless books, followed countless diets, and eventually realized diets didn’t work for me. At least not long-term.

So what do you do when all the advice in the world isn’t working? I finally tried something different.

Not really knowing anything about it, I took a leap of faith and went to a hypnotherapist to help me lose weight and keep it off. Twenty one years later, hypnotherapy and trying to solve the problem of my weight has opened doors I never knew existed. It’s walked me into a path I never saw coming and despite my current uncomfortable state of being, has been filled with more magic than I knew possible. A path of deep inner healing that’s given me quite a different view of myself and the world.

I’ve learned there are no quick fixes when you’re trying to address the wrong issue over and over. If you truly want to change something about your life that keeps popping up, start trying to figure out what’s preventing you from having what you want. I’ll give you a hint: it’s deep inside you waiting for you to find it and reconnect with it.

Mother’s Day – It’s Complicated

Today here in the US it’s Mother’s Day, a day to honor and celebrate the women who birthed us and who raised us. And for those who are mothers, it’s a day to be recognized for all your hard work and sacrifice. For many families, it’s a time of happiness and celebration, and that’s how it’s been for me for the larger part of my life.

And then there are the hiccups. The moments I remember the not so great times with my mom. The years she should have been on medication to moderate her extreme bipolar moods, but wasn’t. Even that’s complicated because she was in the care of a psychiatrist for years. But the whack-a-doodle thought he could psychoanalyze her out of her illness, even when his profession recognized she needed medication. And yes, he was eventually sued in a class action lawsuit that my mother opted to not get involved with. But I digress.

My relationship with my mother was complicated by her mental illness.

Thanks to trying to figure out why I’ve had such a difficult relationship with food and my weight, looking within, I’ve been able to understand more about my relationship with my mother. Long forgotten memories of her cutting me down came back during healing sessions, and within minutes I was able to dissolve the associated pain and anguish. Gone. The beauty of my healing path is how it’s been healing my relationship with my mother despite her being gone since late 2012.

My relationship with motherhood is also complicated. My first pregnancy came as a result of being molested for a few years. Barely able to even recognize I was pregnant because the molestation began long before I’d gotten my first period, when I was finally so pregnant that it could no longer be denied or hidden, the shit hit the fan. All my worst fears came true.

That said, the timing of my pregnancy was such that I was able to keep it hidden from everyone, moving into a home for unwed mothers at the end of my freshman year of high school. Secrets and lies protected me. I was able to have my daughter and give her up for adoption without more than a very small handful of people finding out.

My daughter’s picture that I carry in my wallet.

The corner of my daughter’s picture is cut out because it was me. Despite the circumstances surrounding my daughter’s birth, my father came to the hospital and took several pictures of her. But he made me cut myself out of most of the pictures. Years later he gave me the negatives, which I still have. Back when I had her, the medical system didn’t make new mothers leave the hospital 24 hours after giving birth so I had a few days with her before I left and she went to foster care until her adoption.

While I’ve been doing hypnosis work around my weight, over the years things have popped up around being molested, becoming pregnant so young, and giving my daughter up for adoption. Giving her up even impacted postpartum depression I experienced after the birth of my son a few decades later. And thankfully, all the things I’ve seen during my sessions were healed. Associated pain, sadness, and other not so fun emotions dissolved, leaving only memories behind.

Although I no longer feel shame when I think of my past, and can think about my daughter without becoming upset, I’m still curious. I’d love to be able to see pictures of her and know what her life has looked like. I’d love to know what she does these days and what her passions are. And I have to be ok with the possibility I’ll never know. Being the product of molestation is something she doesn’t need to know.

The thing about having had a child in secrecy and giving it up for adoption was the deep desire to have a child I could acknowledge publicly without shame and stigma. I was raised in an era when as a little girl I always pictured myself growing up, getting an education, being married, and having a family. And after giving up my daughter, I promised myself I wouldn’t have another child until I was married and settled into a committed and stable relationship.

And then there was the time when things were almost right for me to become a mother, but not quite.

Having met my first true love in college, a few years into the relationship, long enough to realize that we were fantastic as boyfriend and girlfriend, but also long enough to realize he wasn’t right for me long-term, I became pregnant. After the hell I’d already been through, there was no way I was going to carry this pregnancy to term, and I didn’t. Years later during a hypnosis session, I connected with the soul of my unborn child who told me making the decision I made was the first time in my life I’d taken my destiny into my own hands, one of the seminal choice points when I finally put myself first. It put me on my current path and the soul of my child sends me unconditional love from time to time.

Finally, when I was in my mid-thirties my life began to line up so my dream of having a child and raising it could come true. Shortly after marriage when I became pregnant, all my dreams were coming true. I had a husband, a home, a part time job, and was pregnant. And then the pregnancy miscarried. It was beyond devastating. I was completely clobbered. How could this happen? I’d already been pregnant so easily and had a child.

Months went by as I obsessively tracked my cycles, and finally, a month or so after my father-in-law suddenly passed away I became pregnant. I can’t help but think there was something to the timing of it all.

About two months before my son was due I noticed one afternoon that he hadn’t been kicking up a storm, like usual. After a panicked call to my midwife, she had me come “just to make sure everything was ok.” It wasn’t. About eight hours after walking into her office my son was delivered via emergency C-section across the street in a local hospital. Because he needed more support than the hospital could provide, he had to be flown to a hospital with a higher level NICU. Other than the usual issues that come along with being born seven weeks early, he was healthy. Three weeks of long drives and visits that were too short, Little Man came home in time for Christmas. Best present ever!

Little Man in the NICU shortly before he came home.

Ever since my son was born life has truly been a journey of discovery, challenges, education, growth, and healing. And since Kundalini energy spontaneously opened, the journey has only deepened a hundred-fold.

My sincerest best wishes to everyone who is celebrating their mother, remembering their mother, who is being celebrated for being a mother, for those whose journey into motherhood was long and arduous or never came to fruition, and to all whose relationship with their mother is complicated.

Life is Supposed to be Messy

Something that’s coming through loud and clear lately is the fact that life is supposed to be messy. It’s supposed to have ups and downs and to feel uncomfortable and be boring. It’s supposed to throw change at us we don’t want to have to deal with and things that are scary. And it’s supposed to be full of surprises, both good and bad.

The purpose of life is to learn how to roll with the punches. To go through shit and come out the other side wiser and less afraid. You see, one of our biggest fears is fear of the unknown. And after we’ve been through something and have made it, we no longer have to be afraid.

All of the mess and discomfort can bring growth. It’s up to us.

Some of My Favorite Tulip Photos

This year our local bulb growers are accepting visitors again. And because they are required to limit how many people can visit at once, they are selling tickets by date and time block. So if you’re local, go buy your tickets! This year I find myself physically unable to make the walk around the gardens and fields, so I’ve decided to pick a number of my favorite tulip and other bulb photos to share with you again. The number of varieties, and sizes and bloom times makes for spectacular viewing. Enjoy!

Gallery #1

Gallery #2

Gallery #3

Gallery #4

(Although these are all my original photos and as such are copyrighted by me, if you’d like to use one don’t hesitate to email me at mariner2mother@wavecable.com).

Daffodil Time!

I live in a valley in Washington state known for our daffodils and tulips. And the bulbs are doing their thing. Yesterday, despite having a very rough day, I had to run an errand. And knowing our local daffodil fields are in full bloom and will likely be gone in a week, the lure of a rare sunny day with blue skies and white puffy clouds, attracted me to some regal, bright, sunny flowers. Fortunately, knowing which fields were in bloom, I drove over to the area hoping there would be enough of a shoulder to the road where I could safely pull over.

You see, the entire area is a patchwork of farmland and roads that crisscross and have next to no shoulder for the most part. People will slow down while they’re driving, open a window and snap a few pictures while drivers behind them become annoyed. Or they’ll pull as far off the road as possible, usually leaving 1/3 of the car blocking the road – and these are roads with speed limits around 50 mph and only one lane in each direction. So finding a field in full bloom where I could pull completely off the road felt like winning the lottery.

This year, because of the pandemic the two local display gardens, whose tulips are just barely beginning to bloom, are requiring the public to buy tickets on a specific day and time slot. Historically, when I’ve gone to the display gardens I’ve picked a day when the weather was good and my schedule allowed. Often times spur of the moment. With my unfortunate dearth of energy, I’ll probably pass on the gardens this season. But for anyone new to my blog, I’ve got lots of tulip photos from years past, having been a regular to the gardens for about sixteen years.

Enjoy some sunny flowers!

The classic field shot!

Acres and acres of daffodils.

Yours truly!

While I was admiring the flowers I saw a woman and her elderly mother taking pictures of each other standing in front of the field. After they accepted my offer to snap a photo of the two of them together, they reciprocated, taking my photo. Chatting for a while, I learned they were from out of town and had just come from one of the big display gardens. They were curious about the daffodils, wondering if they were going to be cut and sold as cut flowers, as some of the bulb crops are. But no, many of the fields like this one are left for the blooms to die out and are later harvested for the bulbs. It’s one of the major crops of our valley.

There’s something about standing next to such a beautiful expanse that lights me up from the inside. I could have pulled up a lawn chair and sat their for hours.

Gratitude and Shit

I’ll start by letting everyone know I totally ripped my post title off from a fellow blogger I admire. One of the things he posts about every now and then is just this: gratitude and whatever else is going on. So Eli, I hope you don’t mind a direct steal. But I’m doing it my way.

One of the things I’ve become pretty good at over the past decade is looking at life through lenses of gratitude and positivity. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no Pollyanna. I’ve lived more than my fair share of dark times. But there’s always been something deep inside me that tended to see the glass as half full. There’s always been a connection to my heart that despite becoming quite battered and bruised, never gave up the ghost. It’s always been there for me in a clincher. When push comes to shove, I’ve been able to count on it.

Life has thrown some real muther-fuckers challenges my way over the past decade. Some were mountains that took months or longer to navigate, like my elderly parents last few years, when after a lifetime of independence they suddenly needed care, followed by their deaths ten months apart. While others changed life’s trajectory in one way or another, like when my son’s mental health tanked and I had to take him out of school. Yet while these things were going on, good things happened too.

Every experience came with eventual wisdom. And there were many lessons learned along the way.

I had become Reiki attuned and experienced a spiritual awakening just in time to help me navigate some of the toughest times. Coincidence? I think not. Using energy healing and learning ways to connect with the unseen realm (often times with help from others) has made life a thousand times more bearable.

Learning how to see the silver lining in any moment has carried me though all sorts of challenges.

The past four years have been without doubt the most challenging time of my life. The pace and depth of intense and constant inner change courtesy of Kundalini energy temporarily disconnected me from this gold and silver braided thread: my heart connection. It’s like someone turned off the tap, leaving it to drip painfully slowly. And that’s not me.

I hadn’t felt like me. The part of me that never changes. The part of me I’ve been connected to since I was born and will remain until I die. I remember my very elderly father talking about feeling like he was still the young boy in New Hampshire who grew up playing at the beach and hiking the White Mountains. Inside he was still that person. But for months, I woke up day after day disconnected from that feeling. Not feeling at all like myself was excruciating. It seemed like where my heart connection should have been was a hole of emptiness for a long time.

And very gradually, things have been shifting over the past few years to the point where finally, my connection to myself feels like it’s coming back online. Feeling happiness, gratitude, and love for no particular reason is creeping back into my essence.

I’m beginning to feel more and more like myself as recent deep healing shifts are walking me further along this intense awakening journey. Sparks of optimism long gone are just barely beginning to return.

Things I’m grateful for begin with my family. Grateful that despite my husband’s grasping next to nothing about my awakening process, he’s still here supporting me as he’s always done, taking care of our family. And grateful for my son who shows me every once in a while that all my rambling about life and modeling things for him is sinking in. Many relationships don’t survive Kundalini awakening.

I’m ever so grateful that despite living through a pandemic that has taken so many people’s lives, I don’t know anyone personally who died. My family, friends, and acquaintances are all well.

I’m grateful that my body is still chugging along, even if it’s struggling a bit at the moment, with all its massive challenges over the past few years. And grateful for the medicines and supplements supporting it until I no longer need them.

And I’m ever so grateful for this blogging space – a place for me to sometimes vent and always share. For the people who come here curious to glimpse my little corner of the world. For the people who feel a sense of community here. Thank you all for reading.