In Memory of Dad

As many of you may know, we lost our dad October 11.  Dad suffered from Lewy Body Dementia.  His passing was a blessing for him, liberating him from what could be at times a tortured mind.  I thank everyone who has sent prayers, thoughts and messages regarding my dad’s transition.
and Parkinsonism.


Today as I ponder the last week, I'm taken back to six months prior to his passing that my brother suggested we prepare everything for dad’s funeral.  We knew his health was declining as he was steadily losing weight; we did not expect him to pass so soon, but rather during the winter months into 2020.  In preparing for dad’s funeral, I began to create a video memorial to play at the visitation.  This project was a labor of love during this time as I went through countless photos from our childhood, photos of my brother’s albums, and scans of photos on a project I’d worked on a few years earlier.  It involved picking the right photo, the right music, and timing of it all as I pieced it together.

Over the decades dating back to my adolescence years, I remembered dad as “keeping me down”. Ironic since these are the words he used when living at the Carmel Home about the nuns and staff: “They’re keeping me down. I cannot do anything.”  My memory stems from the negative experiences I saved to my brain’s mental hard drive over the years.  Being fussed at for being me (laughing too loud, crying too much), being criticized about how I looked, or for my choices, not living my life the way dad thought I should or would. As a result, I remember needing to please him, working for his approval and/or his love.  I would talk about all the cool things I’m doing or what’s going on, and dad would just sit and listen without much expression.  I have a photo of my showing him my engagement ring and I remember him not being yet again, overly impressed.  He may have said congratulations then threw in some snarky remark in the name of teasing like, “Good luck” to my fiancé.  Dad would take snipes at me when he could, which struck a young gal so eager to please her father in the heart.  Our brain tends to focus on the negative memories, and its amazing imagination will fill in the gaps that help build the story we tell ourselves and others about any negative experience we had.  I realized I focused mostly on the negative experiences of being yelled at, the lack of words or show of support, the criticisms and the many arguments we had while I was a teenager. I perceived him disappointed in me and I focused on how my father had been “keeping me down.”
  

Over the past several months, I experienced a healing with support from therapy, reading books about compassion and resiliency, and while working on the video.  In perusing the hundreds of photos, I came to know and remember my dad in a different light.  Dad was a hard working man that took on many responsibilities outside of his full time swing shift job.  He put food on our table by growing it and raising the beef and pork.  He put a roof over our head, literally building the house from the ground up.  Dad put me through college by raising and working in a tobacco field many summers.  The photos showed many memories of smiles, and even in my baby pictures, you can see him gleaming with love for me.  He was creative, industrious, and even had a softer side to him I’d never known.  I found poems and letters he’d written for and to mom.  I remember crying as I read them because they were words I never heard him speak to me when growing up, but clearly he felt deep in his heart.  I realized that dad parented the way he himself was parented.  I also realized that I became so preoccupied with the negative that I lost sight of the positives in my relationship with my dad.

My healing was liberating once I began to see my dad in a different light that my brain naturally tended to keep in the dark.  I didn’t feel the need to seek his approval, to hear him say, I love you, or make decisions with the thought, “what will daddy think?”  My healing liberated the intense karma between my dad and me and I’ve never felt lighter and at peace around this relationship.  I’m grateful I had the chance to let him know how much I appreciated his hard work and that he was indeed a good father.  I came to feel unconditional love for him and know unconditional love from him in the best way he knew how to give it.

Take a relationship you are struggling with and flip it into the light.  What has been good about it?  What did it teach you? How are you taking away the positives into your own life? Shine Light on it. The not-so-great experiences will fade as you experience the paradigm shift to see it in the Light.  Then give thanks for the blessings and this person and all you've learned.  Find ways to focus on the positive through journaling the good times, looking at photos, or having conversations with mutual friends or family.  Be open and know that no matter the circumstances around the relationship experiences, it serves purpose for your healing, his/her healing, and your spiritual and personal growth and healing.  Jesus recognized the good in all people and never held a grudge against anyone, including his persecutors.  Forgiveness came without fanfare – it just crept slowly in and consumed me gently.  Allow it to do the same for you.

For a peak at the memorial video, please click here.   

An Empath's Healing

The last few months since losing my job have been a healing process, and a process of making sense of what happened. By September 13, I felt as if I’d been hit by a train. 

Every level of my being needed restoration.

Physically, I had suffered from digestive issues for over a year. Belly aches, indigestion, heartburn and acid reflux plagued me. Prilosec didn’t work and I chewed Tums daily. I suffered insomnia, tossing and turning as my mind rehashed my days; chewing on every issue, decision and action that took place. When I did sleep, I was clinching my teeth, leading to a cracked tooth under a crown, and ultimately a root canal.  I ate my way through the overwhelm and stress and gained over 75 pounds from when I started. I experienced numbness and tingling in my right arm and hand, then after a fall at work, in both arms and hands. I cringed to look at myself; I didn’t recognize my face, and I loathed my body.  I struggled to find clothes to fit and body-shamed myself.  I abandoned house work and personal care on the weekends, not showering from Friday morning until the following Monday mornings. These behaviors weren’t helpful to my mental wellbeing.

Mentally, I was grieving the loss of a three-year relationship and nursing a broken heart. Work at that time was a distraction as I started the new job; but a year in, I began experiencing severe anxiety and mood swings. I started an anti-depressant to balance the mood swings and calm my nerves. Within a year, increased anxiety required an additional med taken when I felt anxiety or panic attacks came on. I experience panic attacks at work and at home.  Depression set in as I felt swallowed up by life.  Occasionally, thoughts of suicide tempted me as an easy way out. “Why bother?” they whispered, “you can’t do anything right to please anyone so why bother keeping on keeping on?” This line of thinking wasn’t helpful to my emotional wellbeing.

Emotionally, I felt drained. I repressed any and all emotions I felt during the day for fear of being accused of taking them out on staff, which I did a few times anyway under stress and duress.  I cried a lot; daily sometimes.  And when I’d stuffed the tears too deep, I’d make myself watch a movie that I knew would uncork the dam of emotion. I experienced emotional eruptions after run-ins at work or antagonistic work situations, then nursed emotional hangovers for two or three days, dehydrated from all the crying.  I felt resentment towards coworkers and administrative support, then guilt, only to take on all responsibility for all issues and problems when in hindsight, they were not all mine to own. This emotional merry go round wasn’t helpful to my spiritual wellbeing. 

Spiritually, I was simply lost. I’d journal occasionally but it felt like I was reliving the angst of the day and I didn’t want to deal with it again. I couldn’t breathe as deeply as I use to, and likely, was not breathing much at all. I couldn’t catch a deep breath when I tried. On weekends, I binged on movies or reruns on television to escape from the reality of my life. Drained from the day, I’d drink a beer, a few glasses of wine or binge on fast food.  This habit didn’t help my physical wellbeing.

My only job after being freed from the life from Hell was to take care of me.  I spent three months recuperating and searching for answers; a direction. I read more books in a few weeks than I had in several years! Books about happiness, being an empath, minimalism, Buddhism, and mindfulness to name a few. Looking back on how I handled life’s challenges the past several years, it became clear how I failed to cope with the work environment. Being an empath is a huge responsibility, first and foremost, to oneself. Through this challenging experience, I got lost because I had given all of me to everyone else:

·        to please others;

·        to seek approval;

·        to feel validated;

·        to feel and be loved;

·        to feel worthy; and

·        to be valued.

It’s laughingly ironic!  After dealing with countless issues of abandonment in my life and past lives, I actually ABANDONED myself!

Healing means restoring every level of one’s being. My job was to take care of me, nurture me and love me.  Thankfully I recovered, and reconnected with the empath I Am. The Universe has fully supported this healing, flowing so many people and resources into my life who are like-minded and traveling this journey with me.  

The experience over the last seven years has been a blessing and a curse of a classroom; thankfully, it woke me up. I’m wider awake than I can ever remember as I reconnect with who I am. I feel found. I found myself.  I must not only survive life as an Empath, but I must thrive as an Empath living an authentic life.

Last Stop: Reconciliation Station

I walked away from a three year relationship a year ago this weekend. I felt peace around the decision, though my heart felt great pain. The love I felt for this man was one I’d not ever felt for any other man. But in my heart of hearts, emotional intelligence knew the relationship wasn’t what it needed to be, nor what I deserved.

Knowing that truth didn’t ease the intense heartache I felt, or the emotions of grief from the loss.

The relationship was a good one – we enjoyed each other’s company and I laughed more often than I ever cried. I was treated well, as the man I love was generous in many ways, supportive and caring. Other than a few times when he felt (I realize in hindsight) cornered into an emotionally uncomfortable situation, he was kind, gentle and respectful towards me with his words. His relationship management choices were not always so respectful toward me and my feelings, but again, with 20/20 hindsight vision, I recognize how some behaviors and actions supported his goal of compartmentalizing v. integrating me and our relationship in his life.

My feelings for him were like none I had ever felt for a man. I loved him unconditionally, despite his unproductive choices and actions in our relationship. The decision to end our three years together was hard given the fact that I love the man. It was a good decision, regardless of my heartache.

For a year leading up to that decision, I struggled with how things were between us, and that we were not heading in the direction I had been repeatedly reassured we were going. Add to that the pink elephant in the relationship: his non-expression of love for me. Year Three opened the blinds to shine the Light of Truth on the situation. Initially, I chose to hide in the shadows for a while, not wanting to see the reality of our relationship. The Light continued to expand and reveal the truth of “what is”, and still, I chose to turn my eyes away, blinding myself, and others with excuses I made for him on his behalf. I argued with myself, claiming that I needed to be more patient. I was just fooling myself and making a fool out of myself. Deep down in my heart of hearts, I knew the truth. Once I chose to face the Light, look more closely at our relationship and the man I love, doubts created the stepping stones I needed to walk toward the hard reality: this man wasn’t that into me, and worse, he and I didn’t really have a future together as he’d led me to believe.

For several months, I questioned him about our future, seeking relief from the glaring light of clarity. There were temporary moments of shade, but the heat of truth burned upon me over and over again. In the month leading up to the perpetual Moment of Truth, I eventually realized I had two choices: miserably continue in a relationship that was real to only one of us, or live in greater self-respect and peace without the man I love.

A year later, I made that difficult choice, and its heartache remains an emotionally wise scar in my memory and heart. Fortunately, the grief and pain are not as intense, and my thoughts are less consumed by the loss, though I think fondly everyday of the man I love. I miss him and his friendship. I’m realizing I can still love him, but just not be in a relationship with him. I’m learning I can share my heart brimming of love with others – my beagles, my family, friends, the children I serve at work, strangers, and most importantly, myself. I’m learning that there are many people in my life who value and appreciate me, my heart and the love it offers. Today, I close in on freedom from any of resentment around this experience. I realize I must find forgiveness for him; and self-forgiveness for allowing myself to love and believe him more than I loved and believed in myself. This I can accomplish through unconditional love for us both.

I recently heard a speaker discuss the difference between reconciliation and resolution. Resolution involves rehashing everything, which I am absolutely uninterested in doing, since I’ve spent an exhausting year doing that. Reconciliation is reconnecting and moving forward without any emotional barriers between two people, leaving the past in the past. I don’t know that I have arrived at Reconciliation Station just yet; but it’s the final stop on the itinerary of this relationship’s journey. Full and unconditional forgiveness is my ticket to this destination. They say time heals all things, but I also know I must willingly dig a little deeper in my heart’s pocket to find that ticket. I know it’s there; I just need a little more travel time to find it.

And for the first time in a year, I’m actually feeling excited about arriving at this next stop, and completing the final leg of this relationship’s journey.

Excuse The Dust! Spiritual Work in Progress!

Seventeen years ago, my ex-husband and I decided upon a kitchen remodel after buying a new home. Such a project is a major undertaking and disruption to one's life. You scrutinize every inch of the space and surfaces, under the cabinets, in the corners for those things that are inefficient, unproductive to the flow of movement. You see more clearly the scarred and weary wallpaper, and other detractions that blend into the background unnoticed by our everyday point of view. You reevaluate what is working and not working, the effectiveness and ineffectiveness of the use of space, practices, and the overall layout. You discover things outdated and determine what updates need to be made. Next comes the destruction when we tear everything apart, dismantling it so we may create and build anew. The entire process wears on your nerves, but upon its completion, you realize how worth it is truly is.

I have been undergoing a spiritual remodel for the past five years; and 2013 has been the final wrap-up of this process.  While purposeful, the stripping of the old to make room for the new is stressful and exhausting to the Egoic Self. This major task rightfully eliminates any distractions that may impede the remodeling process, ensuring the discipline and perseverance required to see it through to the end. There are days when you do not think it will ever end, and you even wonder why you agreed to take on the task in the first place. Yet, as you move forward through the uncertainty of how it will look in the end, an inner sense, a Knowing Within pushes you on as you lay crumpled on the floor in all your humanness, feeling defeat and anguish. Like the inner drive of a new butterfly, you press on to break free from the cocoon that has served you well for a period of time, but now confines you from expanding your wings even further.

Through this year's process, I made some difficult decisions, despite unpopular opinion, to create more space for this spiritual remodeling project. As I have nurtured this transformation, friends, coworkers, and acquaintances became scarce in my life. The withdrawals are heartbreaking, hurtful even, and a grieving process occurs along with the shifting. People's perceived version of who you are clashes with who you are becoming. Relationships tend to separate as vibrational discordance takes place. People take personally newly-defined boundaries; or experience upset when you do not meet their expectations; or feel rejected when your focus shifts to meeting your own needs of healing rather than attending to their needs. Having been through these spiritual expansions before, these reactions are not uncommon occurrences. To gain anything, space must be created, cleared, for it is the Law of Balance. The Universe has a way of naturally clearing anything that may distract or detract from this spiritual expansion.

We are all One, and we see ourselves in others in many ways, at various levels. During these shifts, people tend to shy away from those undergoing spiritual renovation. A part of themselves sees a part left unaddressed Within, striking an Egoic chord of fear, intimidation, or resistance to the change. I myself have faced difficult mirror reflections in others throughout this past year. The key to spiritual healing and growth is looking those reflections square in the eye. To shy away from it equals Egoic denial.  We are all One, and as such, we all see ourselves in others. Each of us serves as teachers, mirrors for one another. Until we are willing to look at our Truth Within and/or that found in the mirror reflections of others, we cannot gain the insight, understanding, and wisdom guidance for spiritual growth and expansion.

Consciousness is not a one time event, or even a part-time event, but a daily practice of being and living. I have been blessed with many souls serving as my teachers these past five years, and I know many more will appear in the years to come. I give thanks for them all whom I hold in such gratitude and love.  Without them showing up the way they do and have, I cannot learn about myself, my spiritual Truth, nor expand my consciousness within that Truth.

If we are to commit to living this human experience as spiritual beings, we must commit to look deep within ourselves, seeing and admitting the truth about ourselves, about our role in creating our own experiences, and how we relate to others. Without a willingness to do this from an objective place of intuitiveness, healing cannot take place; nor can we evolve into higher consciousness and achieve a greater clarity of our Truth Within.

Look into the mirror reflections of every person in your life. Look for yourself, and accept the invitation to go deeper within. Ignore the Egoic tendency to cover your eyes. Look deeply, and see the truth these soul teachers are inviting you to see.

In doing so, you will be on the path to achieving a higher way of being in the human experience.

Forgiving Divorce

September 8^th was my wedding anniversary of twenty-three years. That is, had I not divorced.  The memory of this date flittered as an afterthought as I logged the date in my journal that morning. Writing the date felt as uneventful as writing an item on my grocery list. That quiet voice of my Higher Self said, “Yay you,” acknowledging my long journey toward healing the loss of my marriage sixteen years ago. Yay me, indeed!

When we recall a past experience that was less than desirable without the energetic charge of Egoic emotion (sadness, upset, anger, resentment, grudges, blame, loathing, regret, hurt, etc.) as well as without commentary leaning in this emotional direction, we know true healing and peace around it. Yet, the human Ego can fool you!

After my divorce, I boastfully pronounced “I'm good with it,” or “It was for the best,” only to have another burp of resentment, hurt and anger come up later. Over the years, I felt differing levels of emotion about it, yet convincingly brushing them off while simultaneously retelling the woeful story of how my ex abandoned me and our marriage. The Egoic Self really can (mis)lead us into believing we are over whatever and whomever hurt us in the past. Clients will tell me they've forgiven their exes, then spend the next twenty minutes outlining every detail of how their hearts were broken. Consider this a red flag: When we are emotionally engaged in the blow-by-blow account of the telling and retelling our achy-breaky heart story about a former spouse/lover, a past job or boss, a friendship betrayal, a family member who screwed us, or a stranger that dissed us, it is a sure bet we are not over it, much less healed around it and in a place of genuine forgiveness. Furthermore, know that it is the Egoic Self working really hard to not only convince others, but to convince us that our being over it is true. Our sweet Ego means well in protecting us from past hurt. After all, its job is self-preservation in the human experience, doing whatever it can to make us feel better about our life's experiences. The Egoic Self builds brick by brick the wall of avoidance to contain the underlying (and most likely painful) emotion still in need of healing Light and love. But alas, these emotional goblins eventually bob to the surface, especially when a present-day experience triggers unfinished business of past heartache left unhealed.

The process of healing happens differently for everyone. After my divorce, I hosted pity-parties on both my wedding and divorce anniversaries, and every Valentine's Day. The attendees included distinguished guests such as Depression, “Poor me,” “Nobody Wants Me,” Anger, Resentment, and, ever the life of the party, Blame. Over the years, counseling and life coaching eased the intense heartache, which changed the guest list somewhat. Heartbreak celebrities such as Melancholy, Wistful Regret, and Guilt attended later parties. Healing around my divorce happened in many phases, and was often connected to recent relationship breakups that triggered the Egoic emotion commonly associated with the loss of a marriage. Most of my healing work started at the mental and emotional level; however, deeper healing occurred when I began working with my spiritual mentor, and the teachings of Ernest Holmes.

Eight years after signing divorce papers, I experienced a healing breakthrough that liberated my heart. During meditation, I opened myself to greater understanding and healing around the divorce. I breathed deeply, opening my heart completely to spiritual guidance. Suddenly, a quiet voice from Within spoke these gentle loving words: Your husband left you so you may continue on in your journey to be who you are intended to be within this human experience. The message took my breath away, as if someone suddenly opened a curtain to fully reveal truth like I had never experienced it. He agreed to be the bad guy within this soul contract, to leave you and your marriage, because as a creature of commitment, you would never dishonor the “death do us part” vow, and move forward in following your life's intended path and purpose in this journey.

 

Relief and humility flowed through my tears. Understanding flooded my consciousness as compassion poured out me for my ex-husband. I fought hard to keep and save the marriage, for the perfectionist in me could not face the failure and rejection. The insecure and needy little girl inside me did not want to face living life alone, feeling unloved and unwanted. In this new revelation, I felt true peace, and an incredible rush of warm love for my ex-husband like I'd never felt for him before. How difficult it must have been for him to walk away, to honor his part of our soul agreement, as I begged and pleaded through tears to give us another chance. His unwillingness to relent to my pleas forced me into no other choice but to move on with the divorce. In that moment, I felt forgiveness deep within me, revealing the Egoic version of forgiveness for the fraud it is. I felt honored by the unconditional love my ex-husband showed in walking away.  The brick walls of avoidance holding years of resentment, anger, upset, and hurt fell away, allowing healing Light to transform these dark emotions long hidden in my unconscious view. I let go of this leftover baggage that kept me and my spirit weary.  Even my Egoic Self felt relief from this burden. My heart filled with gratitude for my ex-husband, and his support of my journey as a spiritual being in the human experience.

The healing process around my divorced happened in several stages over many years. It varies for everyone, happening on different timetables. How quickly the healing happens depends on how ready and willing we are to let go of our baggage; and to open up to a deeper understanding of the role those involved had at a soul level. Their role supports us in re-membering the spiritual Truth of who we are in the human experience.

If the past haunts your present, you are being invited to step into deeper healing around these ghostly experiences. With support from a spiritual mentor, teacher or coach, and that of our Higher Self, we can rid ourselves of unproductive, limiting baggage through deep spiritual healing work, and know true spiritual peace, not the Egoic knockoff version.

For me, September 8^th is now like any other day. Oh joyful day!

 

Grief & Closure - Losing a Loved One

Today, I am publishing a piece I originally posted in April 2011 about healing the grief around the loss of a loved one. This weekend marks the four-year anniversary of my mom's transition, and this piece was written during a time when my father and I were going through some things she had stored away.  Edited since its original posting, its message still hold true for anyone experiencing grief around the loss of a loved one, and/or a miscarriage.

I dedicate this piece to a few friends who recently have lost a parent, and who currently are in the process of losing a parent.  My heart knows your grief, and the love you held/hold for your loved one.  May you find comfort in knowing you are not alone in your grief.

Yesterday during a Sunday visit with my dad, we looked through things he’d recently sorted of my mom’s stuff. He and I perused all the remaining closets, rooms, cabinets and shelves still left unchecked when in one closet I found a pillow case stuffed with something. It was my Baby Tender Love doll from my preschool-aged childhood. Her hair was matted, badly suffering cowlicks. She still wore a little blue-print onesie my mother had made for her. Other than a rip in the bottom hem and having a bad hair day, the little gal was in pretty good shape.

After I came home, I pulled Baby Tender Love out for a visit and the childhood memories came flooding back. We lived in an old dilapidated rental house on Redhill-Maxwell. As a child it seemed huge, though during a return visit as a teenager I recalled how small the rooms and yard really were. I remember playing with my dolls while sitting on the floor in the bedroom I shared with my little brother, including my Barbie, PJ and Ken dolls for which Mom also made very fashionable clothes. All those dolls and outfits were long ago pitched, though I did find my Barbie naked on a shelf. Evidently she'd been a nudist the last few decades.

As I remembered these childhood memories, I hugged Baby Tender Love close to me as if she were my baby again. The rush of memories suddenly reeled me back in time to April 1996, when I lost my own baby at eleven weeks, and with it, the dream of being a mother. Grief struck out of nowhere and tears flowed for the little baby girl I knew I carried, "Peanut." With my unborn child, there was no farewell; no funeral service or closure that signified she was gone; no opportunity to say goodbye after our short-lived relationship was over. There was only hemorrhaging through the night, labor pains and cramps as my body gave premature birth to the fetus. There was fear, uncertainty, and disconnect with the reality that I was losing my baby. The next morning was the doctor visit, outpatient surgery for a DNC, and then home to carry on in life as if none of it had ever happened, as if I'd awakened from a bad dream. I dealt with the grief off and on for several years afterward, and I truly felt peace around it, despite remembering my baby every December, the month Peanut would've been born had she gone full-term. Every year, I remember the lost dream of being a mother to what would today be a beautiful fourteen-year-old daughter.

 

 In hindsight, I realize that I never experienced closure around her loss.

 

Before mom passed, I hated funerals, and never felt comfortable being in the same room as a dead body. Yet, I recognized the event for what it was – closure for those who loved the one lost. After seven plus years of spiritual development, I understood that life as we know it in human form is simply energy transitioning into spiritual form. I initially resented the visitation, because I was tired, grieving and I didn't want to meet and greet others. Then I realized they too needed closure around the passing of a friend, neighbor, relative, coworker and acquaintance.

 

After it was said and done, I was grateful for the visitation. I learned how much Mom touched the lives of so many, and how they loved and appreciated her. It was such a gift. As for my mom’s body being on display, her funeral was the first I’d been to since stepping into my spiritual journey, and it no longer felt uncomfortable or awkward to be there. I felt gratitude for the opportunity to have been present with my mom upon her death. I was grateful for the funeral that allowed my family to have closure as we prepared to return her to Mother Earth.

 

As I held my Baby Tender Love, I strangely felt a connection I never felt with the child I lost. A physical connection that tapped right into the grief left unfinished. A connection to what it might have felt like, if only briefly, to hold my baby for the first time. I connected with that grief and felt a greater sense of closure. I was able to energetically hold my unborn baby to say goodbye as I embraced the Baby Tender Love I loved so dearly as a child.

Grief is a process, ongoing and in many phases. Rushing grief is unproductive; denying grief only feeds its strength into volcanic releases. I've dealt with the loss of my unborn baby, and now this grief feels complete.

Thank you Mom for hanging on to Baby Tender Love for me. And thank you Baby Tender Love for allowing me to say the goodbye I never had the chance to say fifteen years ago.

God Knows What We Need

You may or may not have noticed my absence from the Journey Wisdom blog. The last several months, last two years have been the culmination of the life-changing AHA moments. Change happens, and we can roll with it or we can resist it. The latter makes for one hellacious life on Earth. After some initial resistance, I settled into accepting “what is” and rolled with the flow of Universal Life.

The childhood home that my mother and father built from the ground up forty years ago sold earlier this spring. I had the blessing to live there for last two years before letting it go. When I moved in with my dad, I did so believing it was temporary since it was on the market, for sale by owner. Two more unsuccessful attempts at “for sale by owner,” and three real estate agent contracts later, we finally sold it to a family who I believe will carry on the heart and soul of my mom and dad's legacy.

While living with my elderly father brought many frustrations and challenges, I settled into gratitude for the opportunity. God knows what we each need in our lives for healing, spiritual and personal growth. If we embrace and commit to these opportunities, we can find the greatest of treasures within them. Living with Dad allowed me to financially get back on my feet again after experiencing a devastating setback. Living in my childhood home also connected me with my mother again through everything in that house she handpicked, placed and cared for with love. I enjoyed the peaceful landscape of the countryside: my mother's flower gardens, the view of Browns Valley, and the peace and quiet of country living. I reflected on the memories created over the decades of growing up there, and as adults when we came together for holidays and visits. I enjoyed reconnecting with extended family that lived around the corner.

Most importantly, I did some deep healing work around my relationship with my father, and ultimately, within myself. I found my voice and personal power with him, which I abandoned as a teenager. Our relationship over the years have been challenging, as we hold different views about how I should have lived my life, should be living my life. Everything I decided to do, my father held the opposite opinion, no matter what. In hindsight, I find it amusing. I am sandpaper to his four by four. What I realized is that our relationship reflected how we feel about one another. I've never felt my father respected me, and energetically, that reflected in how I interacted with him. Once I began to let go of my need for his approval in order to feel loved, I began to heal the old wounds of our past. When I began to forgive him and myself for past grievances, our relationship energetically shifted to one of greater collaboration. At times, the process was scary, angst-ridden, and even ugly when I slipped back into being a 16-year-old defiant daughter; but I quickly found my center, standing strong within my personal power until I became spiritual Teflon to his barbs, criticisms and dismissals of my feelings.

Add to this process the shift in the parent-child relationship as parents get older and the children “parent” the parent. It is heartbreaking to watch the man you've looked up to as provider of breath, home, and knowledge, as rescuer of boo-boos, heartbreaks, and roadside breakdowns become disoriented, slow down, and struggle with the simplest of things. My father became feebler with every month that passed in those two years. Ever proud and stubborn, Dad resisted the idea of being the old man that needs help getting out of a chair, help around the home place. Bound and determined to do for himself as long as he can, he carried on until a minor accident on the farm shook him into reality. (He kept that incident from me for a few weeks, unwilling to admit the defeat to his aging and weakening body.) Despite the fact we'd had the house on the market for two years, I knew in his heart dad wasn't ready to let it go, which created little interest from potential buyers. After this accident, he began accepting the reality that it was time to give up the home place. Once he energetically let it go, we had the first of two offers on it within a month. It sold three months later.

God gave me the time I needed to move through the healing work around my financial life, grief over my mother's passing, and four decades of resentment and hurt related to my relationship with my father. God gave my Dad time to come to terms with letting go of the home he and my mother built together with their blood, sweat and tears. When both Dad and I were ready to move on with our lives, to move into the next leg of our journey, the house sold.

With all transition comes limbo. After selling forty years worth of belongings, my dad moved in with me for six weeks while waiting for an opening in the Carmel Home, an assisted living and nursing home managed by the Catholic diocese. This time was important for us both, as we recovered from the stressful whirlwind of recent life upheavals. These six weeks allowed us to rest before we independently launched into the next leg of our journey. This time also provided us an opportunity to bring the two years we spent together to a close without the stress and uncertainty of selling the house hanging over us. We watched the nightly news together, talked and laughed. My dad was more relaxed than I'd seen him be in months. I was grateful to have and be in my own space, on my own terms.

Today my dad is settled in the Carmel Home. I'm settled into my home, and now fully unpacked four months after arriving. Since dad's departure, I've had time to clear some clutter, both emotionally, mentally and physically. A long respite with the monks at the Abbey of Gethsemane was just what the Spirit Doctor ordered for my soul. Refreshed, reconnected with the Spirit Within, I have before me a blank canvas ready to be painted with whatever wonderful things I desire for my life.

Change happens. The last two years of my life helped me realize even more the importance of my daily spiritual practices which I abandoned in the busy-ness of life this last spring. I understand more now than ever the need to stay centered in the presence of God, for this center is the calm eye within the storm.

Old Baggage and Boogers

We as a human collective attach a great deal of value to the transitional shift of time in our celebration of the New Year. We take the past year and all it held, and put it behind us, sweeping it under the rug to some unknown place as we countdown the arrival of the new year. We look to the New Year as a fresh start, a new beginning to get things right, live happier lives, accomplish more, make better choices.  For me, I'm realizing I've seen each New Year as a rung on a ladder, another step in the journey of my life; but this is inaccurate. Every day of every year is a rung, a step in the journey. We place a great deal of stock, hope, and expectancy into a better and more prosperous New Year when if we held that same excitement, anticipation and motivation for change every day, our lives may be more fulfilling and happier. What an incredible burden we put on the shoulders of the New Year and Father Time!

Since my divorce, New Year's has historically been a bummer for me. Unless I had the distraction of a celebratory activity, I've spent New Year's Eve at home alone, wallowing in the hurt and lost of opportunity of New Year's Eve 1996.  On this particular night during what would be the last year of a struggling marriage, my then-husband called to inform me he wasn't coming home after work (we lived 45 minutes in the country) but rather going out his “friends” for New Year's Eve. I'd planned a nice dinner for us in the hope we could say farewell to a rocky past year that included a miscarriage, a regrettable purchase of a money pit, stressful renovations, and all the strife within our estranged relationship. I felt hurt and abandoned.

In the fifteen years since my divorce, I've spent more New Year's Eves home alone than not. In the past few years, I began the practice of making a list of all the positive things I'd accomplished, joyous moments, and positive experiences of the soon to pass year to help lessen the New Year blahs. Only this year, despite a positively wonderful year, I was left feeling unsettled, the blahs heavier than usual.  A couple of days ago, it was as if the spirit of New Year's Eve Past arrived to show me the vividness of New Year's Eve, 1996, bringing it to me front and center in the consciousness of my mind. The memory of my ex's phone call; the place I stood in the kitchen when he told me he wasn't coming home; the tears I cried over the kitchen sink; the realization (which I quickly shoved into denial) I was losing my husband.

For whatever reason, the Spirit of New Year's Eve Past took me back to this one night of heartache to face it after sixteen years; and to deal and heal this piece of my past.  Like so many others each and every New Year Eve past, I shoved it “under the rug," the depth of my unconsciousness, repressing the bad memory, the hurt without gleaning from them understanding, wisdom, or finding forgiveness and healing. I unconsciously hung my “pity party hat” each December 31^st on this one event of my past for fifteen years.  I've been unconsciously wallowing in and/or running away from that one holiday eve experience, which in a sense is what we all tend to do as we ring out the old and ring in the new? Now it registers as an energetic blip on my awareness radar, and so my healing around it is a work in progress.   

The problem with running from our past experiences, mistakes and choices is that a chase ensues; the old baggage will not let up on us, and is always following us as we move into each new year. Only until we are willing to stop, turn around and confront that from which we are seeking to leave behind in the past year, it will chase us into each new year. We must embrace what we are running from for it is a part of and the point of our journey – to learn from it, grow from it, and choose anew as a result of it. 

 

Here's another off-the-wall way of looking at this: Old baggage that we drag into each year, most often unconsciously, is like a sticky booger we can't seem to get off our finger. Only until we stop and look purposefully with intent at the culprit to see what it is about and where we are in relationship to it, then we can figure out how to be rid of it, once and for all.  In doing so, we may go about the business of living our lives booger/baggage free.

Facing and acknowledging past hurts, disappointments, and less-than-stellar choices allow us to become friends with it, and leads us to forgiveness, and greater love and acceptance of ourselves and those players in our past.  It can also provide us with an appreciation of the insight of wisdom which frees us to move forward in our lives to bigger and greater experiences of joy, abundance, and love.

Tangled Yarn

Over the last year, I’ve been doing a great deal of work around relationships of all kind: friendships, co-worker, family. More recently, I’ve been doing some deeper healing work around my relationship with my father, and out of this process has come the even deeper work around my intimate relationships with men. I’m finding this process much like untangling wadded yarn; and interestingly, the yarn represents the “story” I’ve lived and spun for myself over many years about my relationships with men. They say the relationship we daughters have with our fathers reflects the kinds of relationships we have with men in our dating lives. I’ve come to realize how in many ways, many of my dating relationships have been influenced by the relationship I’ve historically had with my father. Yikes!

In a studious look back at past relationships, I found some disconcerting trends. Most of my intimate relationships developed out of sense of neediness. I’ve also recognized patterns of insecurity in which I’ve had a great need for validation, reassurance and attention in order to trust the situation at hand. Much of this insecurity I’m realizing stems from my relationship with my father who was not emotionally or verbally expressive whatsoever with his feelings towards me as his daughter. I didn’t experience the father-daughter affection I watched many of my girlfriends enjoy with their fathers. My father also worked a full time job and additional “jobs” in order to provide for our family and college educations for my brother and me. As a result, we didn’t see a lot of my dad because of his swing shift schedule and/or tending to his various farming projects. My father didn’t take an interest in my life or things I liked; and we never had father/daughter time in which we spent quality time together doing things I enjoyed or that we could enjoy together. Dad was supportive of my involvement in band, especially in the last two years of high school taking on the Eagle One equipment bus project in which he renovated a school bus and drove it to band contests. While this interest I appreciate, it didn’t fulfill that one-on-one quality time spent together, since I shared him with over a hundred other people during those times. Dad did what he knew how to do best: provide for his family, and in this he was a great success.

I came to realize I held an unconscious belief that because my father didn’t take time to spend time with me, freely show me affection or express his feelings for me (his responses to my “I love you” were typically grunts and I had to coerce hugs out of him), I felt unworthy of his love; and through the years in our relationship, as well as those with men I’ve dated, I have felt the need to “earn” his love and affection. As a rebellious teen, I got his attention by fighting with him, yelling matches which unfortunately were how he and I invested our time into our relationship. I learned from my dad my feelings didn’t count, and therefore, unhealthy ways to angrily express them, even then they weren’t honest. I have spent most of my life trying to win my father’s love and approval; and only within the last year have I decided I don’t need it to be the wonderful and loving person I am.

Through this reflection, I realized I carried that baggage with my dad into most of my dating relationships, and needless to say, that has yet to serve me or the relationships well. I also attracted and dated men like my father: emotionally unavailable and/or unable to communicate or express their feelings (though most of this gender isn’t the best at these things). I managed these relationships much like I managed my relationship with my father, with anger as the persecutor or by emotionally shutting down as the victim. I accepted verbal and emotional abuse was the norm within a male/female relationship. My father often criticized me throughout childhood, and even still today; however, now I no longer take it personally (though little girl inside me still feels the sting as the past flares up) or place great value on his words. Today, I express how I feel in a respectful but honest manner and I don’t back down. This last year living with my father has been no doubt purposeful to rediscovering my personal power. I’ve learned to stand up to my father in a respectful and healthier way and to speak my truth around what I want or need from him, or how I’m feeling without fear or shame. I’m learning self-validation, rather than look to him (or anyone else) for validation of worthiness in this life. And I’m recognizing and appreciating his own ways of expressing love for me; at times it feels like an archaeological dig to find them but they are there.

This time with my father prepares me for a healthier way of managing and showing up in a dating relationship. I recognize how this baggage with my father has bled over into my dating life and how to better manage the dating process, and myself within it. I’ve given over so much of myself and my personal power to these past dating connections in the hope of being accepted and loved, all in an effort to fill the void left unfulfilled by my father-daughter relationship. What a horrific burden to place on another human being! In many ways, I feel like a teenager all over again figuring out how to date, what to do and not do, what to expect and not to expect. I’ll muddle through it as I’ve muddled through so many other new enlightened experiences before. These revelations offer me an incredible opportunity to grow and develop a healthier and loving relationship with a man who unconditionally accepts and loves me for who I am. Part of this process also involves my believing that I am worthy of unconditional love and acceptance, and finding within myself the willingness to accept nothing less than that from another.

I Finally Cried "Uncle!"

It’s been a year since I returned to Owensboro, at which time I moved in with my father who had the house and farm on the market. The move-in was “temporary.” A year later, I remain here as my dad decides whether he is ready to sell the place or not. He pushes through the Parkinson’s disease and the challenging demands it places on his aging body. Dad knows his limits, and he takes rest breaks, but the work he does, he loves. The homestead has been his life; thus, to sell it means his life in some ways ends. As long as he handles the tasks physically, I anticipate he will remain, though he admits its getting to be too much. I expect he'll see the place through before selling in the spring; of course, he said that last year. Time will tell.

Living with Dad challenges me but offers me the opportunity to do some healing within our father-daughter relationship. Ours is not the warm and fuzzy father-daughter relationship seen on “The Brady Bunch.” The teen years involved a lot of yelling and crying. College years provided space to be who I wanted to be, bully-free. Young adult years smoothed out and the relationship seemed better; however, the older I've gotten, the more independent-minded I am, marching to the beat of my own drum. Doing so didn't set well with my dad though he kept his tongue for the most part. During mom’s illness, our estranged relationship intensified as if under a microscope in the midst of the stress. I was treated like I was sixteen again, and amazingly, I responded as if I was sixteen again. What the heck? I felt little support from dad during and after mom's illness, but then, he was a grieving widower himself, so that I accepted.

I made choices after mom’s passing that widened the chasm between us, mainly because dad expected me to act accordingly to his expectations. I wasn’t who he wanted me to be, and honestly, I was floundering as I made poor choices in effort to soothe the pain of my grief and loss. Upon realization of my situation, created completely by my own choices, I recognized the need to cry “Uncle” to the Universe as my dire circumstances came to bear. I was miserable in Indiana. I felt too far away from dad and everything in my life seemed to be falling apart. I felt the spiritual guidance to go home to Owensboro, the very place I eagerly left after high school. Doing so meant I would eat a great deal of crow when talking to my dad about my situation. I needed his support in these dire straits so I could sort things out, but I also felt a burning need to be closer to him. I’m sure Dad saw things from the former perspective, especially since he once stated his belief that the reason I came home to Kentucky in 2009 was only because I lost my job in Colorado! His accusation cut me to the quick and even deeper in my heart since mom was dying. Again, I had to let that and all of his narrow-minded beliefs of who I am go. He doesn’t know me, and at the time of this transition, hell, I didn’t know who I was either!

Through the last year, I’ve woke up from what felt like a bad dream. I had several “Come to Jesus” meetings with myself about my choices, coming clean that I acted with my head and emotion, not with my heart or out of God's guidance. I’ve let go of the story about my woeful sacrifice of leaving my life in Colorado, my friends, all that I knew to come home to see to my mom and dad. I’ve let go of my story about how undervalued I and my professional expertise is in this area. I’ve let go of my story of financial woes and hard luck, and how no one in this area appreciates me. I’ve let go of my story of true love turning into a nightmare of shattered love caused by a heartless and damaged man. And I’m still working on shedding a few more stories: the story of being the unappreciated and disrespected daughter; the story of hopelessness of ever finding my “Prince Charming” in this area who gets me, is like-minded, appreciates me, values me; the story of how I'm a misfit, out of place where “normal” is "abnormal" compared to life I knew in Colorado. I realized I made myself a "martyr" when I tell these stories; I decided not to live as a victim as many do when they whine and tell their sob stories of hurt and how they were wronged.

I am grateful to my father and his support during this time to grow, to heal, and to expand upon who I am and “what's next.” I’m grateful to spend time in the place I’ve called home for more than forty years and its sanctuary to remember and heal my youth and young adult experiences in this seemingly foreign place after a twenty-six year absence. I value every moment I can have at the only address I’ve ever lived here in Owensboro before its gone from my life forever.

I recently considered moving into my own place, a reality not too far off into the future, but I struggled with the decision. After struggling for a week or more around it, I remembered during a meditation that decisions from my heart are easy to make. If I'm struggling to make this decision, and its not feeling right, chances are it’s not the right choice right now. In making decisions, I'm learning to follow my heart while many tend to follow their head and popular opinion. With a dose of practicality offered by my head, I follow my heart first because more often than not, decisions made based on emotion and my head lead me down the path of heartache and struggle, as clearly evident from my choices since my mom passed.

I'm happy where I am right now, and my heart knows it is temporary. I offer dad company, help around this big house and sometimes in the yard when he lets me. He offers me company, support as I recover from three years of financial setbacks, and the opportunity to figure out how I can participate and contribute in this community. I'm available to him at a moment's notice which offers me greater comfort and peace in fulfilling my commitment to see him through his transitional years. And I'm given the opportunity to heal, even strengthen our relationship; to create a new kind of relationship between us that allows me my voice and heart as my father's forty-eight year old daughter.

Life is good with few bumps along the way but that's Life. My heart is peaceful and God blesses me with opportunities and guidance to move forward in my journey in such a way that honors both myself, and my father in his final phase of life.

Colorado or Bust

In the year and half after my divorce, I was a broken woman. My heart ached, my soul lost, I numbly went through my life as a new single struggling to keep her head above water. In addition to a relationship change, I also had a living change (two to be exact) and a job change. Yeah, when I do change, I do it big, or so it seems. Looking back, a lot happened in a short amount of time, climaxing into the biggest change post-divorce at the time: a move to Colorado.

The manner in which I made this decision still amazes and amuses me today knowing all I know about God's divine and intuitive guidance. Early October 1999, over a year after the divorce, I attend a business seminar hosted by Toyota in Georgetown, KY; or so I thought. This gathering actually was a women's conference about, well being a woman in a professional world. Lily Tomlin was guest speaker, and breakout sessions offered tips for well-being and balance. Up until this point since the divorce, I lived life numb. My spirit, heart and I felt no passion or excitement about my life. I simply got up each morning, went to work, and on the weekends, isolated myself in my apartment. I had no goals, no desire, no purpose. Until I attended this women's conference.

One seminar, facilitated by a then-not-so-well-known life coach named Rhonda Britton, stirred my soul, waking me within as if lighting afire dry brush laying brittle inside me. Rhonda challenged our group with one question: “What one thing would you do but haven't because you are afraid?” The moment she asked it, something snapped within my mind as if a vault of ideas opened. One thought escaped and resounded in my head. I want to live in Colorado. A flood of memories downloaded as I recalled a vacation taken years earlier in 1994 in Colorado to visit two cousins; how I fell in love with the mountains and the state, and; how I was fired up and ready to move back right then. I didn't because my ex-husband was rooted in Kentucky with his family business, and truthfully he didn't want to move. So I'd locked away the idea and forgot about it. I also remembered I briefly considered fleeing to Colorado during the divorce process but didn't thanks to a little voice gently guiding: Not now. You need to be close to home, family, support. End of mental discussion.

In that moment at this conference, and every moment thereafter, Colorado weighed on my heart and mind, so much so I immediately began researching the area, the cost of living, job opportunities, etc. The more I thought about it, the more it felt right; however, my head challenged this crazy idea. What? Leave Kentucky? Go where you know no one? (My cousins had since moved elsewhere.) So I grappled, argued with myself about this move. I wanted to go but I was stuck in fear. I knew it, so I asked my Higher Power for guidance. I asked for a clear cut sign that would let me know in no uncertain terms I was suppose to make this move. It felt right, but it was bold, was I ready? Could I do this? I had doubt. In hindsight, I realize I'd lost my fearlessness of taking risks, going for what I wanted. I wasn't trusting my passion.

The first sign bluntly appeared immediately. I started seeing Colorado license plates all over Lexington! Never seeing one before, I suddenly saw several within a week. Hmm. Okay, I said, I think that's my sign, but just to be sure, give me one more so I know for sure this isn't a coincidence. I didn't trust God, my intuition, or my gut, and well, given what all I'd gone through post-divorce, it was understandable. So I waited for my sign: the Dixie Chicks song,Wide Open Spaces. This song suddenly played constantly on the radio, everytime I was in the car! A fairly new song, I never noticed it until one day coming home from work. And upon listening to the words for the first time, I thought, That's me!

I'm still unconvinced despite two requested and granted signs, so I asked for ONE more sign, promising myself if I got this one, I'd know I was suppose to take the plunge. While I knew in my heart I was suppose to go, my head still wasn't on board. Now, it's late October, and I am walking my dogs in my neighborhood. A beautiful fall day in which the air was crisp and cool, reminded me of Colorado's weather during my visit – no humidity, sunshine. As my girls and I walked along, I looked off to the sky and “saw” mountains. The clouds were low on the horizon, and shaped like the mountains, peaks and valleys off into distance, and in that instant, for what felt like minutes, I felt what I call an “out of body” experience in which I was transported to Colorado. I was in Colorado in that moment, walking my dogs. It felt good; it felt real to me, and it was then I decided and knew:  Yes, I'm going to Colorado. And so I began planning, saving money, researching jobs, making professional contacts, etc. Six months later, I loaded most of what I owned into a storage unit, and what I could in my car and headed West, to wide open spaces.

This new journey marked the beginning of my journey to self-discovery and self-healing. At the time, I knew there was something or some reason I was suppose to go to Colorado, but what or why, I did not know. I just followed my heart for the first time in a long, long time at that point in my life. And my life forever changed as I began the long road to healing. Not just from my divorce, but from lack of self-esteem, self-confidence, and sense of self. Healing of past heartaches, disappointments, and unproductive choices. Healing that led to me finding myself, my life's purpose, and discovering who I really am for the first time in my life.

The Gift of One's Heart

I'm learning a lot about myself lately, and my heart. For many years I tightly guarded my heart after others disappointed, abandoned and/or simply abused it. Over the last few years, I've found the courage to open my heart again, risking it despite the heartache of the past. In opening my heart, I was able to release heartache, through the process of healing and forgiveness, of both myself and others. I spent a lot of time on the initial clean up of an emotional mess left unattended for many years. Now, regular maintenance is required, on an “as needed” basis. Over the last few months, life has required me to do some deeper cleaning and clearing.

Through this latest process, I realize I share my heart freely, authentically; I hold nothing back. I open it to most people, and I've learned to trust my intuitive guidance when discretion is necessary. I also realize giving my heart to others still involves risking its exposure to bitterness stemming from the recipient's own low self esteem or shame. I risk being taken advantage of by those with self-serving agendas. I also risk my heart being accepted, then left hanging out to dry, unattended and alone. Opening one's heart involves a great deal of risk. Having kept my heart behind a steel wall for many years, there are days I question my decision to open it up to others.

My heart is full of love, and it aches to share the overflow of love within it. When shared, my heart is not always warmly received, appreciated, or even accepted. My heart extends love to my closest friends who recognize, honor and reciprocate the precious gift of love and the courage it took for me to share my heart fully with them. I extend my heart to my family who, like most typical families, take it for granted, except my mother who always let me know how much she appreciated and valued my expressions of love. Over the years, I've offered my heart to many men who: abused and battered out of their own sense of unworthiness; was blinded by fear of its loving light; took for granted my heart's selfless devotion of its love; simply didn't want, or know how or what to do with it, and/or mismanaged it. I offer my heart to strangers, people in need, students, and clients. I offer my heart through my writing.

Whenever someone demonstrates a lack of appreciation, respect or care towards my offering, I continue to re-serve him or her my heart again, and again, and again, to a point where its is left bruised, exhausted, and in pain. Perhaps I'm making up for time lost when I withheld my heart from the world; or maybe I'm avoiding rejection, which would imply then, I believe its my loss if someone does not accept with appreciation my heart. I'm realizing in this latter possibility, “no,” that's not true.

Upon one's rejection of my heart, despite my countless attempts to offer it, my heart and I retreat and engage in an inner debate about returning to the steel prison from which it came. With each person's refusal, I'm recognizing my pattern of subjecting myself to continuous rejection with each attempt to give my heart away. Continuously subjugating oneself to another's rejection is an acceptance in belief one is unworthy of something better. Perhaps, maybe, I need to offer my heart in the same fashion they offer the finality of sales at auctions: “Going once, going twice, gone......!”

I believe in people, often times more than they believe in themselves, and their potential to receive and generously give love from their own heart. Many beautiful people I've met just once in my life, and many who have remained an integral part of my life, have shared their hearts freely, and together, we created a beautiful heart connection, loving unconditionally, believing in each other. In my family life, I unconditionally love but without sacrificing my heart for acceptance. In my friendships, I hold close to me those who value my heart, and release with blessings of love from afar those who take it for granted.

And in my romantic life, I'm learning my heart deserves, at minimum, its equal in willingness, respect, and appreciation of its expression of love and care for another, and nothing less. I'm beginning to understand for me to tolerate anything less is simply me not loving and valuing myself and my heart. And if this is the case, how can I possibly expect another to love and value my heart and its generosity?

Fare Thee Well 2010

It’s time to bid farewell to 2010, and annually, I take time to reflect on the year’s highlights and lowlights; 2010 was an eleven-page document! No wonder I feel exhausted at this end of this year!

Lowlights included continuing life without my mother who passed in September 2009. While the grief eased considerably with time, it stirred up as the one-year mark of her transition neared. In taking time for myself in the month before the anniversary to heal, I moved through it with greater grace than I expected. Another lowlight was my love life, and its on- and off-again saga. In hindsight, I had no idea the extent of the drama I put myself through: an engagement, a broken engagement, a move into my own place, a “working things out” phase, and the constant harassment I endured after announcing “I’m done with all of this.” And yet even in the last month, I gave one more benefit of the doubt in offering another chance in response to pleas of desperation to turn things around. Thankfully, in a Kamikaze-style (self-sabotage that kills any chances of any future relationship, never mind contact, respect and trust) act on the part of the mastermind that has been the writer, director, and actor in this theater production, the curtain has finally closed. Of course, I recognize and acknowledge my role as co-star in this tragicomedy; now I know I should’ve bowed out after Act One started! But live and learn! While stressful, emotionally challenging, and extremely disappointing to watch someone I love show up less than authentically, even delusional, I am grateful for the learning and growth opportunity. I learned even more deeply the meaning of unconditional love and forgiveness. I also remembered once again that I can only change how I show up, and that I can’t change another, no matter how much I love him.

2010 highlights included the ever-increasing success of my business: Soaring Dove Connection/Healing Life Energy. Starting my business from the ground up in new and foreign territory in February 2010, I am humbled and honored by the amazing support of the spiritual, professional, and business community. I’ve never experienced such amazing generosity and warm welcome upon my arrival. I am blessed with fabulous clients whose spirits I adore, and who I enjoy getting to know better each time we meet. And I’m truly honored and blessed to be living my dream of serving others in my commitment and service to Spirit/God. Another highlight was the launch of the Mentoring program and the opportunity to witness six human beings expand their inner spiritual lights. In working with them, and all my clients, I give thanks daily to have the opportunity to see God’s beauty of each and every person who crosses the threshold of Soaring Dove Connection/Healing Life Energy. Another highlight of 2010 was my training with Healing Touch and the wonderful people I met in St. Louis, Asheville, and Loveland/Cincinnati. I have experienced professional growth as an energy therapist and in 2011, I forge ahead towards certification. I look forward to continued professional and personal growth as I grow as a energy healer, a business woman and a Source of Light on Planet Earth.



Another festive and fun highlight in 2010 was the fun I had with my "Gal-Pal Posse." (pictured here; check out the orb in our pic!) These former classmates and I enjoyed a couple of slumber parties (yes, middle-aged women still know how to have a good time!), several Friday after Five’s in Owensboro, swim parties, and a drive-in excursion, all of which were just what the soul doctor ordered for this woman’s exhausted soul spirit!

And so, we move into 2011; I invite you take some time before popping your champagne cork, and tooting those blow horns at midnight to take stock of your 2010. Doing so is very empowering when you see all the accomplishments and good times that were had. The lowlights don’t seem so bad when you position them against all the good stuff and blessings you enjoyed through the year. And when you see all the good stuff, you are empowered and motivated to want more, to go for more in 2011. After all, we are the Creator of our reality; God gave you and me this gift of Life, Creative Power of Choice, and personally, I’m going to make the most of it so that my choices and actions honor that gift. Won’t you join me? Celebrate 2010 and safely welcome 2011!

Happy New Year!

Letting Go in Honor of Another's Journey

When we hear about those we care about making choices, demonstrating in ways that trouble us, leave us unsettled, we are impacted by this news. Sometimes, our reaction is judgment, puzzlement, and upset. Sometimes, it’s disappointing, sorrowful and helplessness.

I have a friend whom I care about deeply, but for reasons I won’t get into here, I had to make a choice to “sunset” this relationship in my life. Despite my efforts to support, help and even tolerate with great patience how my friend showed up in our friendship, the impact upon my energy, my sanity and my emotional health required I draw a hard line in the sand around our involvement. It isn’t easy to make such decisions. In my work with clients, I see so much deeper their potential than what they see, know and believe in themselves; yet, I cannot force, coerce or insist upon anyone changing their choices, thinking, believing, and ultimately their way of being. I’m guided and trained to unconditionally love and support the path my clients take, and the pace in which they choose to travel it. But when it comes to loved ones, family members and friends, that task is challenging. We all experience this with sons, daughters, husbands, wives, parents, siblings, mates, lovers and friends. I am no exception in feeling frustration when I see someone I deeply care for show up unproductively, make unproductive choices, or worse, not making choices that can support and heal their hidden wounds and hurts.

I walk a fine line in my professional and personal relationships, and in both, I’ve learned that I cannot make anyone change, and it’s not my place to do so! When we attempt to change another, tell him or her how to live their life, what to do, insist on what they should do, we dishonor his and her own journey. Perhaps my friend is meant to struggle in this lifetime, as a means to understand how that experience feels. Perhaps the struggle is the path to “getting it” spiritually, to heal deep-seeded pride and arrogance, via the process of crashing and burning first. When addicts are ready to ask for help, they usually have to hit rock bottom first; our willingness to ask for help will come when we’ve hit rock bottom in misery, depression, exasperation, and sometimes, realization of the insanity of thinking things will be different when we keep doing the same thing over again.

We have to let go of our loved ones and let them travel their own path. We can be there to offer support, but we must also protect ourselves from that drain when they continuously ask for support, yet take no steps towards making healthy changes in their lives. We can offer them options, choices, and even express what we need in order to stay connected. This is when we must mind our own boundaries; enabling another does not help him or her. Judging choices, giving our opinions or advice is not helpful either. Unsolicited advice is no use to someone who has not requested it. We must trust that whatever our role in one’s life has been, there was a purpose, for both parties, and we did all we could during the time we traveled our paths together. If loved ones are still in our life, we can mind a boundary and offer our unconditional love and support. We can say prayers to guardian angels, and the Higher Power that loved ones are guided to get the help they need, led into the Light of wisdom, and the Love of God to wake up and know their higher truth within.

While I have eliminated contact, I still hold love and light in prayer for my friend. My heart and soul aches for my friend, but, and with difficulty at times, I cannot own responsibility for that life; it’s not mine to live, and it’s not mine to control. Your, my, each of our lives are under our own purview; we can only be responsible for our own choices, how we show up, how we uncover the Spiritual Truth of who we are, and how we live that truth in this life experience. The life experiences of our loved ones are for their own living, learning and self-discovery of a deeper love that is within, of who they spiritually are in the Oneness of Life.