Feeling Like an Alien

For the past five years I’ve been going through an incredibly intense healing journey prompted by the opening of Kundalini energy in my body. It’s been a process of deeply healing things within me that don’t resonate with Oneness. Healing ‘duality’, or as I’ve been calling it: the human condition.

Because of all this healing I’m able to understand people’s motivations much more deeply than ever before. I’m also not nearly as reactive to things in life because so many emotional triggers have been dissolved. Instead of seeing the world in black and white, right and wrong, there are all sorts of shades of gray. Do I still have a moral compass? Absolutely! But I’m able to hold all sorts of people with compassion who I’ve previously condemned. Don’t get me wrong, feeling compassion for someone doesn’t necessarily mean I want to hang out with them – it means I understand where they’re coming from and don’t hold it against them.

Recently watching an interaction between three people on television, I saw a professional comedian make a spontaneous joke about a woman’s shaved head. While her husband and the audience laughed at the joke, it hit on this particular woman’s tender and raw spot: her hair. What the comedian likely didn’t know was she lives with alopecia, hair loss, and being in a business where a woman’s looks matter greatly, having alopecia has been shameful and embarrassing for her.

The joke wasn’t funny for her. Not at all.

When the husband looked over at his wife and saw she was hurt and angry, his own anger flashed up in her defense.

I recently listened to the first several chapters of the husband’s autobiographical audiobook and know a bit about his abusive inner-city childhood. A place where rage and violence weren’t uncommon. I also watch his wife’s show, Red Table Talk, and have learned a bit about their relationship over the years and what some of their challenges as individuals and as a couple have been. That they’ve both done counseling and therapy, have come a long way, and in the past several years their lives have taken a spiritual turn.

In an emotionally triggered rage (just like he experienced from his father growing up) the husband left his seat, walked onto the stage (because it was a few easy steps away) and open-hand slapped the comedian in defense of his wife, went back to his seat and yelled at the comedian, letting him know in no uncertain terms that his wife wasn’t fodder for his jokes. I can only surmise that being up for one of the highest awards of the night, best actor, had the husband already edgy and nervous.

When people are wound up, sometimes it takes nothing for them to overreact to situations they’d normally handle much better. And this is one of the reasons why some people sabotage themselves in high-pressure situations: all their insecurities come out just at the wrong time.

The comedian, standing on stage in shock, barely knowing what to say, fumbled a few words and moved on the best he could. Because as we all know, the show must go on. Minimal acknowledgment of hurting the actress’s feelings. After all, it was only a joke, right? And who, in their right mind, storms the stage at one of the entertainment industry’s biggest nights of the year? It was just a joke!

What most people don’t know is the comedian was diagnosed in 2020 with a mental condition called Nonverbal Learning Disorder. Finding this out at age 55 answered so many questions for the comedian about why he seemed to have trouble interacting with people from time to time his entire life.

One of the effects of this condition is missing social cues. Not being able to read people, to understand the effects of his actions and words. Because most of the audience laughed, he thought the joke went over well. But he didn’t seem to realize when the butt of the joke wasn’t laughing, it wasn’t a good joke. That’s why a lot of comedians when it comes to poking fun at people, either aim at themselves or people they know will take it well.

And most of the time when a joke doesn’t hit, the effects are usually groans, boos, or a quiet audience. Not being physically slapped. After all, slapping someone is assault, isn’t it? (Unless it’s spanking or swatting your kid or an adult “disciplining” a minor, but I digress).

So while the world of social media is up in arms about the blight on one of the biggest nights of the year in film entertainment, condemning the actions of a man who had the audacity to commit a violent atrocity upon another who was just doing his job, trying to be funny, my heart hurts.

Hurts for all three involved in this exchange. Hurts because people see the world in terms of right and wrong, victim and perpetrator, and they’ll be jumping to claim their side of righteousness today and for as long as the media cycle lets it ride.

Having met my inner child so very many times, getting to know this part of me who carries my anger, pain, sadness, shame, regret, and other negative emotions and helping relieve her of so much of what’s triggered these feelings has given me a perspective most people don’t have. And because I’m still deep in the thick of addressing things that activate my inner child, it’s beyond easy for me to have great compassion for people in their worst moments. When their inner child is crying out to be seen, to feel safe, to feel validated, to matter, and to feel in control.

Situations are no longer black and white but filled with shades of gray. And frankly, when the world is up in arms about something and I feel no inner “trigger” to take sides and react, it makes me feel a little bit strange. But I’m getting used to it. It’s my hope that today’s fervor and uproar will quiet quickly.

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War

When I was very young I had gut trouble from time to time. It felt like there was a war going on inside me. I can still remember sitting in pain, wishing it away time and time again. And eventually, things inside would shift and the pain would subside.

There was a war of sorts going on. Parts of my body were contracting painfully under pressure. I’m not sure how much of it was caused by things I ate and how much was me – empathically embodying conflict happening around me. I’ve always been keenly attuned to emotions around me, feeling my way through life. And there was a bit of conflict in my home growing up.

I’ve learned that conflict doesn’t have to be life-threatening all the time to affect a person deeply. A few deep jabs here and there. Not being respected, revered, or honored, but being bullied, taken advantage of, and outright abused takes a toll.

Thankfully, healing has made all the difference in my life.

With the recent outbreak of war on the other side of the world, I’ve been remembering healing sessions when diving into things like digestive difficulties and an unhappy gallbladder a few years ago took me into past lives.

I saw myself lying on the battlefield with a spear piercing my right abdomen. The wound eventually became septic as it slowly and painfully took my life. As I looked at my male body to get a sense of the time period, images flashed between a body clothed in animal skins and a body covered with pieces of armor. I’ve died on the battlefield in at least a few other lifetimes, and possibly several.

As I lay dying I remember being angry about dying for a cause I didn’t believe in. Having to fight for a leader I didn’t believe in. It felt like I was either conscripted or forced into fighting. The teaching that day was about authenticity: being authentic to myself. It was about healing lifetimes when I wasn’t able to be true to myself.

We live with the effects of war carried forward by our soul, resonating in our DNA. We recreate it within our bodies and externally in the world. And the only way to stop it is to heal.

Will there be a time when all wars will end and people will peacefully coexist? I truly don’t know. As long as we’re a playground for soul growth, all this war and conflict serves a purpose. But I believe we’re ascending and gradually evolving.

However, right here, right now, I’m sending the energy of love out to the world, while continuing to do what I can do to heal myself.

Posted in Holistic Healing, inspiration, Spirituality | Tagged , | 12 Comments

Limbo

Just when I thought winter was over and spring was around the corner, as I was turning in last night it began to snow. It’s the time of year here in the Pacific Northwest when we’ve had unseasonably warm weather in the fifties and sixties that came early, or as in the case last year, when February was a month of snow after snow, abruptly melting when the temps warmed in early March. We’re in for a cold week of overnight temps in the teens and low twenties. So last night’s wet snow that’s turned quite crusty may be with us through the week.

As much as I love snow and cold, crisp weather, I’m ready for milder temps and the change of seasons. This time of year can be a weird limbo of no longer winter but not yet spring.

It’s matched my state of being. A limbo between who I was before Kundalini energy opened in me almost five years ago, and who I’m becoming.

Going through a spiritual awakening a decade ago was a time of learning, exploration, and healing. It was a time when how I felt about myself and the world gradually changed, leaving me looking through eyes of understanding and compassion. I was more understanding and patient with everyone and everything, including my family. They reaped the benefits.

Even though there were a few rough patches in life, as everyone has, I was able to navigate them pretty well.

Since I jumped on the carnival ride of Kundalini awakening, life’s felt overwhelmingly heavy and tough. But the years prior gave me tools to handle it. Walking the walk has been an incredible metaphysical journey while getting a lesson of a lifetime in pain and suffering.

Fortunately, the pinnacle of the shit the most difficult times is behind me.

A recent healing session left me more embodied with Oneness than ever before, as the message that ‘I am every one and I am every thing’ was dumped into my body and mind. Whatever had been keeping this from me dissolved as the gnosis came to me. It felt like remembering something I already knew.

When I was on the healing table soaking this in, it seemed both impossible and ridiculous to know I’m every one and every thing (separating those words on purpose) while knowing I’m a single, unique person. An individual. Yet it’s my truth. I’m all of that.

What surprised me even more than this epiphany was when tears of release soon gave way to giggles and then laughter. Laughter that rolled on and on. (I haven’t had a healing session end in laughter in a long time).

After an almost year-and-a-half hiatus, I’ll be working with a beautiful spiritual hypnotherapist and counselor again who helped me through all of 2019 and a large part of 2020, and I can’t wait. Our sessions together are always magical and we never know what will come up to be healed.

Looking forward to the end of limbo so I can take the reins of life again, each healing session is walking me one step closer.

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Love Is

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Late Winter Musings

February tends to be the time of year when we in the Northwest are tired of the wet and gray of winter, ready for life to spring forth once again. Ready to see more of the sun and more blue skies. And ready for warm breezes again. Ready to see buds and flowers reappear, and ready to get outside without being drizzled upon.

I, personally, am ready to create more inner shifts. Ready to walk myself a step closer to a new normal. I think the world is ready to take another step into a new normal, too. With some things you just can’t go backward. And truly, who’d want to? I’m not really that sort of girl anyway.

The big inner shift that began almost five years ago is still rocking my world a bit, but things are a little more settled out. Just a little. Having a recent healing session with a very intuitive Reiki Master, we chatted as she ran Reiki healing energy and asked if I’d like her to do some sound healing with her crystal bowls and tuning forks. The vibrations of the crystal bowls felt so good as they reverberated through my body, and the tuning forks acted a bit like acupuncture needles, unblocking the flow of energy in my body. I’m actually pretty new to sound healing, but I like it.

Confessing to my practitioner that I’m really over all this constant change I’ve been going through (it’s exhausting and I don’t really have much control over it), and would like to feel more like myself again, she tuned into my inner child, whose thoughts I was echoing. The younger version of myself stood defiantly with her arms crossed across her chest with an impatient sourpuss’s face. Yup. You know the mood. It’s been simmering in the background for a while now. And with the pandemic’s progress, my inner child seems to be echoing the mood of the entire country. So done with it. The Reiki quiets this voice.

When my practitioner picks up on intuitive information, she lets me know. Usually, she’s not telling me anything I don’t already know at some level, but she provides clarity, validation, and gets little glimpses into the near future. She talked about upcoming changes in my healing journey – peeling away another big layer. She sees it happening either this or next month. Hopefully, something that will feel significant.

As she mentioned it I remembered that my first big awakening happened just over a decade ago in early March. A few years later I connected with the hypnotherapist who would help jet-propel my healing journey – also in March. And the current rocket-fueled trajectory I seem to be on kicked off in late Feb and early March.

Apparently, we each have a time of year when big change happens more easily. I suppose an astrologist would see this in my chart. And for me, it seems to be very late winter, just before spring. I’m looking forward to whatever comes!

While I wait, one of the things I haven’t done in a few years is growing fragrant bulbs inside. When I grew up, my mom almost always had paperwhite narcissus bulbs sitting in the bay window around this time of year. They’d sit atop white gravel, shoot up their greens, and bloom into the most fragrant white blossoms. Inspired by a few bulbs I’ve seen for sale locally, I ordered some paperwhite narcissus and blue hyacinths. But instead of using a shallow pot or bowl like Mom would use, I’m going to grab a few of my wide mouth quart canning jars and fill the bottom few inches with gravel, topping them off with a few bulbs. This way, when the stems grow tall and want to tip over, they’ll be supported by the jar. And my house will smell like heaven!

copyright mariner2mother
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A Spiritual Perspective of Evil

I grew up being taught that evil is something really bad. The worst, in fact. To be evil was the worst possible thing a person could be. It meant they had no conscience, hurt people indiscriminately, were totally selfish, and when they died they’d end up in hell for eternity. Pretty heavy stuff.

A few years ago I worked regularly with a spiritual hypnotherapist who helped me get in touch with my inner world to facilitate walking me through this Kundalini awakening. When I was in the middle of the difficult task of separating from my older brother so we’d no longer share legal obligations, I had been really weak and tired and had a chronically foggy and fuzzy head for too long. (Just to be sure it was part of my awakening process and not an illness, I checked in with my doctor and there was nothing physically wrong). With my patience for my ever procrastinating brother gone, I wanted to see if I could shift my energy from the inside out. I needed to function and feel better.

During the healing session, when I looked into the feelings of exhaustion and fogginess, a young voice spoke up. About four years old, she was very scared and overwhelmed by life. She saw a spinning tornado of wonky energy and was scared saying, “Help me. I can’t do this alone.” She kept saying life was too hard and she wanted to go back to the other side where things were easier. She wished she hadn’t incarnated. She felt quite alone and overwhelmed.

Pretty soon another voice came through. One that sounded demonic. It kept telling the little girl that life is supposed to be hard. It felt menacing and evil. It felt like it was pushing the little girl. My hypnotherapist had me contain the voice using a screen, like a movie screen, to put some distance between us.

Once the voice was contained within the screen, higher wisdom began to flow through me.

“That demonic voice is the voice of crazy, and its purpose is so I won’t trust myself. Its purpose is to fuck me up in the head – and it’s laughing and saying it’s been doing a really good job. It’s just laughing and laughing because it knows as long as we don’t trust ourselves, we’re miserable… and spinning, chasing our tails. Lack of trust is evil.”

When we talk about evil, that’s the core of it. It’s not trusting ourselves… not being connected to our core essence. And all of the stuff that comes out of that is what we call evil.

Once all that came out, all that was left was helping the four-year-old in me trust herself again, but how? I learned a few years before this, during another healing session, that it’s not my job to know how to do things like this. They happen by magic, and that’s where my spirit team comes in. That day, Archangel Michael made an appearance and created magic.

Once my inner child was happy and reconnected with me, my hypnotherapist asked a few more questions about feeling so tired and foggy-headed, and my higher self let me know I was past the worst of things, and I’m going through a finite process that won’t last forever.

Yes, I’m still not myself yet, but very gradually making my way there. And in the meanwhile, having spiritual perspectives not only come to me but embodying them changes the way I see the world.

Knowing that when someone appears evil, the truth is they’ve lost their sense of core trust in themselves as loving beings, I find it easier to handle atrocities in the world. It doesn’t mean I like them or condone them in the least. And I have zero interest in getting close to someone like that. But evil doesn’t stop me in my tracks. The inside of an evil person is a young child who is absolutely terrified and completely disempowered.

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Revisiting Old Wounds

Almost a decade and a half ago, during a hypnosis session geared at helping me gain control over my weight, I had a metaphysical experience where an angel enveloped me and healed me of shame. It was incredibly transformational, relieving me of a burden I wasn’t even aware of. In the years to follow, I’d have an inner awakening where the calling to learn about energy healing exploded out of me.

A few years into this spiritual awakening, having previously discovered the transformational power of hypnotherapy, when I met a woman whose practice combined her years of experience as a therapist with hypnosis techniques and elements of spirituality, I had to give it a try. Little did I know, but the four years we worked together would transform me in ways I wouldn’t believe possible.

As I continued to address stress and frustrations that drove me to eat when I wasn’t hungry, there were also sessions on things like body image, self-empowerment, and personal boundaries. It didn’t take very many sessions to create profound inner change.

These days I don’t feel ashamed of myself and when things go wrong, there’s no immediate inner impulse to blame myself. Because these emotional triggers have been healed, I don’t feel these feelings about other folks either. However, before discovering healing work, I lived with a heavy mantle of shame and blamed myself for bad things that happened in my life.

When I dug into all sorts of discomfort in hypnotherapy sessions, I discovered that roots of present-day frustration, anger, boredom, judgment, and more went back to having been mistreated by a few family members. One of the reasons I’ve had body image issues since puberty was having a mother who was always dissatisfied with her body. She was always on a diet, and as soon as puberty hit and I started to get curvy and put on some weight I labeled myself as fat and jumped on the diet bandwagon too. Having two brothers who were were all skin and bones, I stuck out like a sore thumb. What makes me sad is seeing pictures of myself when I was a preteen and a teenager I was never heavy.

Not only did I deem myself too fat, but when I became pregnant as a result of my brother constantly molesting me, my fourteen-year-old body hadn’t even finished developing. When I was hidden shamefully away to spend the last few months of my pregnancy behind a wall – a home for unwed mothers surrounded by a tall brick wall – I remember the other girls saying I didn’t even look pregnant when I arrived. But during my last 4-6 weeks of pregnancy, my belly finally swelled greatly as the baby grew and her feet pushed up into my ribs. Not only did my belly swell, but I developed wide stretch marks on my sides as my skin tried to keep up with the growth.

After I gave birth to my daughter and gave her up for adoption, I lost weight and went on with my life, keeping the shameful secret I was forbidden to ever discuss, except to the psychiatrist I was sent to after my daughter was born. The months of therapy were supposed to straighten me out I guess. What I wouldn’t remember until I was 56 years old was part of the reason I blamed myself for being molested was because the psychiatrist treated me with the assumption I had been complicit in the sex. I was absolutely not. The other part of why I blamed myself for having been molested was as much as I tried, I couldn’t stop it. My brain reasoned that if I couldn’t stop it, then it must have been my fault.

Going through my teenage years with massive stretch marks on my sides meant I couldn’t wear a two-piece bathing suit. And a belly that had been so overstretched never again laid flat enough for me to feel comfortable in some clothing I would have liked to wear. My once perky breasts sagged and were never pretty like all the models I saw in magazines. I was very self-conscious about my body. And especially self-conscious about the stretch marks until I was grown and had my son.

Publically having a baby later in life gave me license to have stretch marks and saggy breasts. But doing all the healing work took away all sorts of shame and disdain for myself. Which is why I was so surprised in a recent massage to have issues of body image bubble up and become healed yet again.

With Kundalini energy quite active in my body, it’s made me unusually sensitive and shifts to my consciousness – healing things deep inside – have been happening somewhat spontaneously during massages.

When my massage therapist works on muscles on my torso by placing her hands on my side and gently pulling across my body, I usually don’t think twice and merely relax into the pulling and stretching. But for some reason, I became unusually aware of the stretch marks and kept thinking about them as she put her hands right on them, repeating the massage technique several times.

With my focus drawn to this area of my body, I suddenly became a bit emotional as memories of feeling so self-conscious came back to me. Allowing a few tears to run down my face, I told my practitioner about how for so many years I’d felt so much shame because of the stretch marks, and carried so much blame for having been molested and impregnated. As I talked about it, more emotions and tears came to the surface along with two words that played over and over: shame and blame. Shame and blame. Whatever had been holding these feelings hostage in my torso finally let go as they surfaced like a balloon that had been held underwater for years.

Shame and blame I hadn’t known were still with me shifted and released with a bubble of emotion, and after I settle down, I relaxed back into the rest of the massage.

Reflecting upon what came up to be healed, because I’ve felt so secure and confident in my body image for a few years, I can only conclude that I’ve been resonating with someone beyond myself, and very likely with the collective. After all, what’s the number one New Year’s resolution? To lose weight and get in shape. So it’s no surprise that with such a high collective vibe around poor body image, something along these lines would come up again for yet deeper healing.

Vibrating at a level of Oneness means I’m healing at a collective level these days. Things I healed and were a thing of the past are still healed at the individual level, but they’re fair game to be healed anew. And as each issue rises up and becomes healed I’m changed once again.

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Winter in the PNW

I’m still getting used to winter in the Pacific Northwest, having grown up in the Northeast. While there are similarities between the coasts, there are also major differences. Here in the PNW, the winters are generally wet, cloudy, and dark with a little bit of snow. As a kid, I lived to play on snowy days, being outside for hours as we sledded, built snow forts, and skied. I loved it when the snow was so dry and fluffy it squeaked when I walked on it. And I still remember the excitement when local ponds froze over so we could go skating. Although we have several lakes and ponds around us now, we don’t get cold temps long enough for them to freeze over for skating.

As much as I’ve been adapting to milder winters, I love it when after weeks of dark and wet the temperatures drop and the air becomes crisp and dry. With blue skies and sunshine during the day and stars twinkling with moonlight at night. When there is frost on windows and the frozen ground crunches underfoot. And hunkering down by a wood stove fire. There’s something magical when the flakes fall and everything is blanketed with white.

We look out on a small nearby mountain whose low peak is often shrouded by clouds this time of year. With mild temperatures, staying above freezing much of the time, winters stay quite wet. The green of our lawn never turns brown, and trees naked without leaves show off moss and lichen that live symbiotically with them. When we do get snow, it’s usually followed by thick clouds and rising temps turning it to slush and melting it all away. It’s not dry, powdery snow you get in colder climates, but once in a while, we’re treated to a cold snap.

This past Christmas, snow began falling on Christmas Eve and didn’t let up for about 48 hours. Then we were treated to clear blue skies as the thermometer plunged into the teens and then single digits Fahrenheit. It was crisp!!

And then it snowed some more! All in all I think we had around 18″ within a week before frigid temperatures inched back up to the twenties and thirties for the first week of 2022. Now we’re back to daytime temperatures in the forties with clouds and drizzle, and the snow has finally melted. Back to the oh, so familiar dark and wet. Perfect conditions for mushrooms and moss, and being inside sipping tea.

Enjoy a few photos from the past month.

A recent sunset in the backyard.
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Ancestry

I came to this world to do big things. But for years I never knew it. It wasn’t until my life began to take a walk on the wild/spiritual side that an inkling of my true life’s purpose began to emerge. And truth be told, I’m still figuring it out. Just when it seems like I’m in reach of “what I’m going to do” something big in my life changes and I’m off on another track. One day things will come together.

In the quiet of today, I’m thinking about Mom. The woman from whose loins I was birthed. And in whose house I grew, played, and first learned about life.

I’m tickled to notice one of my favorite mugs for tea is the same color as the mugs Mom so often drank her morning Sanka in. The sound of my spoon stirring echoing the sound I heard morning after morning. Her love of music became infused into me before I was even born as she played her violin, performing in concerts and rehearsing the very afternoon I was born. I even made the paper, sort of, with an article titled, “Violinist Drops Bow for Bassinet.” By the time I was three she took me to music classes for toddlers. Even though I haven’t played my violin since my early twenties, music will always flow through my veins.

Mom liked to get together and play music, and she also liked her quiet time. Time to sit and read and take a break from three kids. A child of the depression, having a garden was a must. Growing vegetables. Always vegetables. I prefer to grow fruit. Plant a blueberry bush and an apple tree and call it good. Truth be told, I’ve grown veggies and berries but my yard isn’t garden-friendly. And I’m not a fan of weeding.

We both love flowers in pots. Annuals for Mom. Annuals and a few perennials for me. Although my perennials bloom, they’re actually herbs. Lavender, rosemary, sage, peppermint, and oregano. I’ll never forget the peppermint patch we had behind the garage at our first house. It was big. And when I mowed and cut the edge of mint, it smelled like heaven.

Mom always had her charity work. She volunteered and gave to her community her whole adult life. And still, in her death part of her estate gives to charity in her name and will for decades to come. I too support causes.

It wasn’t until after I experienced a spiritual awakening that life purpose began to shift for me. I’d honestly never really thought about what my life purpose is. Born in the mid-sixties, I was raised to be a good wife and mother, and as such was trained in the domestic arts. That was my purpose for years. Yet because I was born in an era of big social upheaval when women’s roles underwent an overhaul, having not only a job, but a career became a possibility for me on top of being a good wife and mother. Yet, when I became a mother, my career at sea ended. And it was a choice I haven’t regretted.

As much as my focus has always been my family first, energy healing crept into my life and exploded when I experienced an unexpected spiritual awakening. My life took a metaphysical turn and has never looked back. That’s one bell you can’t un-ring.

Shortly after my father died and my mother’s mental health spiraled out of control, when she was in the hospital, I’d been listening to a weekly radio show of psychic Sara Wiseman. She always took callers and one day I decided to ask her why my mother was sometimes abusive toward me. She saw that the abuse wasn’t personal. It wasn’t entirely intentional. And the next time I sat and meditated, I should look back at my mother’s childhood because something happened.

I was quite new to meditation and was trying to develop a practice. Setting a timer for twenty minutes, I closed my eyes, sat up straight, and relaxed my body and mind as much as possible while focusing on a mantra. About five minutes in I suddenly remembered what Sara told me. Not knowing how to look at my mother’s childhood, I decided to imagine I was her at around four years old. Settling on that image, a scene suddenly came to me. I saw my mother’s mother get extremely upset with her and went off on her exactly the same way my mother sometimes went off on me. Holy shit!! Her mom did to her what she did to me! A moment later I saw my grandmother receiving the same treatment from her mother, and my great-grandmother receiving the same treatment from her mother. And it went back several generations.

It was a chain linking the generations. Holy shit! Once I saw it all, I focused on my heart and asked every metaphysical being I could think of to come in and heal it. Jesus, Archangel Raphael, and God. I sat there until I was suddenly overcome with emotion and cried as it all released. The chain was broken. It stopped with me. It was more than broken, it was entirely dissolved all the way back through the generations.

The next time I spoke with my mother, she was still in the hospital and still quite manic, primed to attack me, and I purposely pushed her buttons. Waiting for her to rail on me there was silence. Nothing. No attack. Just quiet. Holy shit!

She never attacked me ever again. The pattern of mother-daughter wounding that had been passed down through generations in my family was healed.

A few years later in a hypnotic healing session, working toward the nugget of what needed to be healed, I suddenly saw another energetic chain in my family. This time it was my father’s side. Something that had affected his and my relationship when I was very young was tied to his relationship with his father and his father’s father, on back several generations. The moment I realized I was healing another energetic pattern passed down through my family for generations, the first thought that passed through me was, “Shit! Not another one. How many of these are there and how many do I have to heal?” Which was immediately followed by amazement to not only see what triggered prostate cancer in the men in my family but to heal it. To set us all free.

I inherited some great things from my parents, like a keen mind and a love of music, reading, and writing, while quite unknowingly planning to have my life take a massive spiritual turn around the time some people have a midlife crisis. Who knew I’d grow up to help heal family karma? Energetic patterns carried down for generations have stopped with me. I’ve never heard anyone put that on a resume or in their five-year plan.

What’s funny is I never thought I’d do big things. It just wasn’t on my radar. Yet I seem to be able to heal things. To transmute them. And over the years it’s become easier to do as I’ve changed.

After the energy between my dad and I shifted and let go, I saw it dissolve between Dad and my grandfather and his father and so on. As the entire chain of energy was transmuted I suddenly felt like I was being hoisted upon these men’s shoulders as they cheered and held up pints of bitter. I heard music and felt like I was in a British pub being celebrated. Because I often felt like I was in the middle of a party at the end of my healing sessions, the festive mood and music were quite familiar, but I wondered why a pub? Then it struck me. Of course! Granddad had come over from England when he was just a boy. These men were British!

Every now and then I come across people in spiritual circles whose focus is to heal their ancestral lineage. My advice is to focus on your current life. Yes, use meditation, guided meditation, or hypnosis, or whatever modality you use. Spend your time and energy on yourself and your current relationships, and you never know when patterns affecting you now will be revealed as ancestral.

Posted in Holistic Healing, Hypnosis, Spirituality, The Voyage | Tagged , | 15 Comments

Who Told You?

Who told you?
Who told you that God is someone to be chased after?
Who told you you’re not good… enough?
That yes, sometimes you’re good
But it’s not enough?

Who told you God is outside?
Outside and out of reach? Always just out of reach
Always just beyond your fingertips?
Who told you these well meaning lies?
As they look down the block and around corners.
As they twist themselves in knots.
Searching for what’s right behind them
Right in front of them
Right beside, beneath, and above them.
Searching for what’s already deep inside
Waiting to be found.
Hiding in a closet
Or behind a rock
Hiding beneath shame
Under an umbrella of pain
Resisting love raining down.
Pushing away your divinity
With all your might
Because you’re just trying to survive
This thing called life?

Don’t listen to them dear child
They know not what they say.
Instead listen to the wind and birds.
Listen to the snow melting into rivers
Washing to the sea.
Listen to the waves
And pebbles on the shore
Mother Nature’s symphony.
Listen to the quiet whispers
Emanating from your heart
As you’re swept with desire
For something more
Something bigger
Something that sparks in your soul.

That is God.

The golden thread of your life’s story
That’s in constant evolution.
Constantly being woven
Intertwined with threads of the rainbow
Blooming petals and ideas
As unique and perfect as you.

God is already within and without.
She’s the impulse of life
The propulsion of the ship bearing your name.
Loving your journey through life.
Holding you effortlessly and endlessly.

Always.

In love.

Posted in Poetry, Spirituality | Tagged , | 4 Comments