Life is a Box of SHI(f)Ts

It has been a while since my last blog post. I haven't felt the call to write. I haven't felt the space to write. The Universe is opening that space, urging me to open my Third Eye, and challenging me in the latest shift of my Life. Read more below.

You never know what Life has planned for you.  It all seems set, the path determined, and then the God comes in like Emeril and goes BAM! And suddenly you’re on a new path, a detour on which to
travel.

My "determined" path was mapped out as follows:  Move to Owensboro to take care of mom, then after a brief stay in Evansville/Newburgh, return to Owensboro to take care dad. Live in Owensboro until that time comes to pass when Dad himself passes to a better Life, and no longer needs me.

Yet a new path has been assigned and I’m in this weird space of uncertainty.  I really hate that space, don’t you?  It means decisions have to be made, and then doubts come up, the ones repressed by what you thought was your path determined, a life defined. 

• Doubts that beg the questions of what, when, where, how.
• Doubts that command I let go and let God do the figuring out of things.
• Doubts that have to be silenced so I may listen, and clearly hear the intuitive guidance of my Highest self.
• Doubts that stir impatience within, the need to know NOW, the need to know the answers so the waves of anxiety created by the tide of uncertainty can calm, ease the breathlessness, the knots in the stomach.

I have felt an uneasiness since summer. I have sensed major changes and a shift making its way since early fall.  And in that knowing, I have felt myself spiraling downward into an eddy of uncertainty and anxiety.  Everything around me, that which I felt confident and certain began imploding into a mass destruction of complacency.  I really should’ve known not to become complacent, because when you do, it is like Emeril’s frying pan over the head – BAM! You aren’t ready for it, even in the knowing and sensing something was coming.

The whacks upside the head came one at a time.  

BAM! - The overwhelming sense of depression, hopelessness, along with the questions of why bother with life.  

BAM! - A realization that I had not been myself lately at work, and was struggling with how to address it.

BAM! - The blindside confirming my realizations, but through the sense of feeling utterly thrown under the bus of just how awful person I had become in my stress-induced life of hopelessness and depression.

BAM! - Believing I couldn’t feel and go any lower, my sole/soul purpose for returning to Owensboro – my father – must move two hours east where he will be safer, and ultimately happier. 

God had a plan and a hand in each and every one of these unexpected mayhem experiences to ensure I return to the purpose driven path I am meant to travel during this life experience of mine.

Now in Owensboro, I am standing in the intersection of “Well Shit” and “Now What?” God is inviting me to revisit my God-given healing and intuitive gift which I uncovered and discovered while in Colorado; this gift I chose to walk away from and shut down six years ago out of fear. I am being asked to open my Third Eye again for others, wider and more willingly than before; to see beyond what is, and to share this gift with others. I’m gulping as I lean into this uncertainty, trusting and knowing God and my spirit guides shall provide clarity and guidance. I forgot how incredibly exasperating, yet humorous a ride these SHIfTs can be. It’s been a while.

I’m buckling my seat belt and hanging on. See ya on the other side.

Goodbye Kentucky. Hello Colorado.

April 20, 1999 was the day I left Kentucky to embark on a new adventure, nay, a new life. I had no idea what I was getting into, what lie before me, and what to expect. I simply surrendered to the journey. I've yet to decide if I was fully conscious to what I was doing or on some intuitive auto-pilot during this time.

Before leaving Kentucky, I worked for Wyatt, Tarrant & Combs as marketing director for the Lexington and Frankfort offices. Upon announcing my resignation and the reason why, many co-workers marveled at what I was about to do. One called me brave. I didn't really see myself as brave at that point, but today I understand why someone may say that. I knew no one in Colorado, my cousins having long since moved on to other states. I'd later meet a couple of people while out for an interview before I actually make the move. Even “braver” I'm told going without having secured a job first. Brave or crazy, I'm not sure, but the good news was I landed a job offer two days before I left Kentucky. Life was falling into place.

I headed out early that April morning, giving my worried mom reassurance with one last hug that I would be fine. By the time I landed for the night in Kansas, I'd learn in a phone call home letting mom and dad know I was okay that tragedy struck in Littleton, the very community where I shopped for my apartment. Columbine. It wouldn't be until I arrive the next day that I would fully grasp the severity of what actually happened. Honestly, I don't think anyone at the time understood what had happened. I've shared in previous blog posts about this experience and how Columbine would instantly hook me into the Littleton community.

After arriving to Denver, I lived in a La Quinta Inn for almost two weeks while I sorted out the final arrangements on my apartment which was across the street and park from Columbine High School. I had only that which I could carry in my Toyota Tercel when I headed West, and given it was a small car, that wasn't much. I moved into my new place with nothing but the clothes I brought with me. The first night in my apartment I slept on the floor; two hours into a sleepless night, I decided to go to Walmart to get an air mattress. They were closed! The Walmart in Kentucky stayed open 24 hours! How can it be closed!?!  No, Toto, I don't think we're in Kentucky anymore.

It would be another two weeks before I'd start my new job with Grant Thornton LLP as marketing director for both the Denver and Colorado Springs offices. I spent time getting affairs often associated with a move in order: Colorado driver's license, license plates, banking accounts, change of address cards completed, etc. I also visited the Columbine memorial that developed across the street in Clement Park. The amount of people that came through there was overwhelming.  So many in fact that the once lush sodded grass was reduced to grass-less mud thanks to April snow showers. I had to show my ID in order to get into my apartment complex. Media trucks were everywhere. This madness would last at least a month.

I hung out with a gal I met only the week before at a legal marketing conference – Aleisha. She was a godsend of an angel who reached out to me with empathy having herself transplanted there from Texas knowing no one. Our friendship developed as we got to know each other and she showed me around the area.

I learned a lot in the first few weeks in Colorado. You can't drink as much in the higher altitude as you would at sea level; you get plastered faster if you do. The higher altitude will take your breath away, literally, even from climbing a simple flight of stairs. It took several months before my lungs adjusted to the thinner air. Colorado has no humidity, which means the air is drier, which means drier skin. I had to drink more water and lather with lotion more then I've ever in my life. They have these lanes called HOV lanes; high occupancy vehicles meaning no cars unless there are more than one person in it could expressly travel through traffic.

In the time before starting my job, the reality of this major change in my life hit me and homesickness set in. I didn't know but a couple of people. I missed my dogs which were in my parents' safekeeping until they brought my furniture out the next month. I missed my family. I missed familiarity.

Yet, here I was.  Despite the tears and the fears that crept up, I dealt with the realization that life as I had known it in Kentucky was no more. A new life in Colorado, unknown, uncertain, and for reasons still unclear to me, had begun.

Spiritual Wisdom in Fishing for Men

I’ve been off and on the online dating sites now for just over a decade, joining when Match. Com became all the rage. My experiences with these sites have been less than wonderful as advertised on TV. I have heard of success stories but I’ve also heard some of these weren’t so successful after the marriage was in force.

I’ve done Match, Yahoo Personals, EHarmony, and a few others that were “one hit wonders”, and most recently, Plenty of Fish. My experiences have run the gamut: meeting those who want to dive right into a relationship after the first phone call, some who reel me in via email then once they have my number, disappear. Others have called a time or two then disappear with no explanation; then a few have made it to the first meeting, usually in a coffee shop, and then dissipate into thin air as if Scotty just beamed them up! I’ve also had a few I’ve met that looked nothing like their 10-year old college photo they posted. One dating relationship lasted all of two dates; a third date was scheduled but he was 30 minutes late, so I left, after which I got a call saying he was on his way, to hold tight, he'd be there in twenty. As if!

The last and most successful dating result, though an unsuccessful dating experience, lasted for ten months, and in hindsight, that was probably too long. In fact, I’m stretching it to say ten, as it was off and on, hot and cold, and borderline stalking for the last three months. In the last couple of years, trusting my own intuition around dating has been my greatest challenge. There were "red flags" and intuitive nudges early, early on in the “getting to know you” stage that I simply dismissed. My problem is I see the potential in someone and as a life coach and intuitive, I see beneath the surface their spirit, and the potential of what they are capable of being. I can detach from any expectations when I work with my students and clients as they move through their journey; but I’m still mastering letting go of that similar problem women have with “bad boys”: believing we can change them. I don’t date bad boys but I've noticed I'm dating men who are in need of healing. It’s what I’ve been attracting lately and I am re-evaluating how and why. It may simply be one of those job hazards I have to monitor more closely.

So, in the last relationship, I tried to “develop” him into his fullest potential and he was open to it; he’d play along for a very short while, then he’d rebel. Not one to give up a challenge, I continued to give many benefits of the doubt, second, third and fifteenth chances, all the while “coaching” him on how to implement change each time he wanted me back. Eventually, after my head started hurting from banging it against the wall, I got the long ignored intuitive message: Time to move on.

And so, I’m fishing the "plenty" of the sea again, and dusting off old dating lessons to revisit and review. The phrases my students and clients hear me say constantly I am now saying to my self daily: it (dating) is a process; don’t get attached to the outcome; don’t take things so personally! And in dating, I’m learning not to assume that once they are interested they will actually stick around. Message received, Spirit!

Once upon a time I had dating down to a science and was quite successful. A girl has to eat and I was well-fed when in Denver, and when I was fed up, figuratively speaking, of how things were going, I confidently said, "Thank you but no thanks. Next!" I’m embracing this approach again, and remembering how to weed the garden of possibilities. I can’t do anything about someone not showing up in this process, and in hindsight, I appreciate it happening on the front end v. half way through. And as for my latest online dating venture, I am grateful for the abundance of interest and responses I've had – overwhelming, to say the least. I guess there are plenty of fish in the sea. Here fishy, fishy, fishy.