To All Those That Sit In Judgement

“I don’t care, I would never do that!” stated another directly to me. She was referring to a choice that I made many years ago. My choice had harmed no one nor was it catastrophic by any means, except to this stranger that I had met only two hours before.

And I believed her, I believed that she would not have made the same decisions as me. She had not endured sexual abuse from the age of four to twenty- one by her father. She had not been fondled by a teenager when she was the tender age of about five. She had not sat beside her flute teacher that molested her each week at a scheduled time and place. She was not witness to the strangulation of her mother and her dog for at least the first twelve years of her life by the man she called “Dad”. She didn’t stand in horror as “Dad” stomped on her brother’s head. She had not made attempts to save her mother time and time again from the physical and emotional pain- because no one else would. She wasn’t strangled herself for speaking up about the sexual abuse. She did not suffer the greatest betrayal of all- that her mother would then turn on her, strangling her too. She didn’t spend her childhood wondering if she would die that night in her very own home at the hands of her very own father.

And she knew all of this about me and more as she had recently read my memoir. She knew it all but proclaimed her statement with such assuredness that I was left dumbfounded.

She sat in a place of luxury to be able to make that proclamation. Certainly, she knew nothing of the torture, self-doubt, anxiety, rage, panic, self-loathing and worthlessness that plagued me daily and for years- not the mention the desperation to be loved. No, that wasn’t in her tale but I am not envious of her.

Because my life taught me empathy. I came to know that when life brings us to our knees, we need a hand up, not a shove to the ground. I learned that even when we don’t hit the bulls-eye of what is our best, we still get points for trying. I understood that growth and healing is a process of trial and error and that we cannot know what we have never been taught. I found that the best type of understanding and compassion came from the self; and when I had enough to spare I gave it to my abusers in my attempts to understand their actions. I had been schooled by my life’s history and it was an oft times a painful lesson.

And I wish none of that for her. What I do wish for her is that she is never brought so low that she can’t find her way out and if she does get lost, I pray someone is there to light the path and hold the door open for her. What I hope is that if life does knock the wind out of her, there is another to offer her the empathy she never handed me.

Be well and happy.

Confessions of A Dead Man

This post has been swimming around in my mind for a month or so. I was struggling as to how I might make it fitting for anyone that chose to read it. Today, I have come to the realization that I am going to make this all about me. If you care to join me on my travels, I welcome you; and if not, I hope to see you soon.

If you are still here, I feel I must warn you that our time together might be a bit longer than is typical for it’s not a short story AND it is also a story that has some parts that folks might find disturbing. You’ve been warned and now off we go.

First, I must give you a brief synopsis of my life, that would be forty-eight years crammed into a few paragraphs but I am feeling ambitious and so let’s begin-

I am a recent author of my memoir, Relentless: A Journey of Forgiveness (My apologies for those that are already aware of this fun fact.). It is there that I put pen to paper, or more accurately fingertips to the keyboard, to share with others my travels of healing and personal growth for the abuses I suffered as a child. As I plodded along on my path of self-discovery, I ultimately found myself reaching the pivotal point of forgiveness. That is my book and life in a nutshell and as the readers of my story know all too well, the actions, hurt, and brutality have always been denied by my abusers.

My book was written while both of my parents were still alive, but was in the midst of publication when my father, who played an abusive starring role, passed. It was after his journey into the afterlife that I was informed that approximately two weeks prior to his death, sensing that he was on his way out, he sought out one of my relatives and specifically asked them to ban me from his memorial services. It was also explained to me that upon his deathbed he was directly asked if he wanted to see me one more time, we had not been in contact for twenty-five years, and his answer was to shake his head ‘no’. For me, it felt as if he had abused me, quite intentionally, yet again.

So now you’re kinda, sorta up to speed on the backstory.

What came next was a series of what I believed were ‘signs’ from him. Numerous and various interjections occurred throughout my days that always reminded me of him. I had an inkling that he was trying to contact me (I am not here to argue on the validity of that truth or what happens once we die.) but ceased downplaying what was happening on the day I was driving down the road and spied his name, spelled just as his was, emblazoned on the mud flaps of the truck that was right in front of me. Okay, I thought, I will listen to what it is you wish to say. It was then that I proceeded to search for a medium. (Again, I do not wish debate, this time on the credibility of a medium.) Once I made the appointment to connect with him via the medium, it became clear to me that I wanted the truth from him. Will I get it, I wondered, or will he stay true to form even in death?

I sat across from the medium and the connection with him was instant, there was no denying it was my father based on the information he offered. The first thing I posed to him was very direct and intentional, “Tell me what you did to me when I was a little girl.”

She shared that he presented with a cloak over his head, viewing her with only one eye and head bent in shame. He owned up to the actions he had denied my entire life, he had sexually abused me. In fact, he took responsibility for even more details and behaviors than my conscious mind recalls. He shared other abuses he perpetrated, and those I had suspected, on other family members. He no longer held onto the lie that he hadn’t strangled me, confessing indeed he had. He admitted that his denials were simply blatant lies, for he remembered it all.

My father went so far as to offer me a glimpse into the motivation for his abusiveness: In sexually abusing me he convinced himself that the pleasure was mutual, though in truth he understood his actions were far from acceptable. He professed that in the moments that he strangled me or another family member he wasn’t out of conscious control of his behaviors but was instead asserting his role as leader and letting us know who was the boss. He explained that he was in fear I would tell the truth and that was indeed one of the reasons he did strangle me, it was his attempt to silence me. In another moment of strangulation, he was jealous, jealous of the fact that my music teacher was touching me as well because I was his possession. He voiced the truths and patterns of other family members’ personalities that were a direct result of his vile behaviors.

He even shared that it was his male ego taking its final stand against me when he purposefully left instructions to keep me away from his services. Guilt, he reported, was what allowed him to shun me on his deathbed. “He’s saying that he felt guilty about what he had done to you. He couldn’t admit to himself what he had done, let alone you. And he wanted his wake to be about the good he had done in his life and if you showed up in the hospital it would all come out, and then that’s all that would be on everyone’s mind at his services,” stated the medium.

He offered an apology and was not making excuses when he said that he was a wounded person. He shared which adult relatives had sexually abused him as a child. Finally, he said that he was proud of my book, though making it clear that he would not have had that same perspective if he was still walking this planet.

And then our time together ended, yet again.

I was left a bit sad as I understood that his confessions left me knowing he had taken even more from me than my mind had allowed me to comprehend at those times. I also felt gratitude that for once he didn’t cling to his pattern of denial and blame, something the medium said she sees often even after another has made their transition.

What I have done with that interaction since is simply sit with it. I have and am allowing it all to slowly settle into my psyche and most recently my heart. I am not sure where to go with it all and in truth am not trying to figure that out. I am not clear where it will lead me, but today I do get that finally, finally something was solely about me and not them. My life had been cast from their wounds and always shadowed and dictated by their unmet needs but in that half hour I spent with him in spirit, he offered me something he never could in his physical life- validation.

And that is where I will leave you, now just realizing that you are in the same place as me as you permit this sharing to shift places within yourself. I have no lessons to share or insights to offer for I am still learning them myself. Where and what it will touch inside of you I don’t know and can’t say. Will it be your heart, fears or spirit? Only you can decide but this is where you pick up and I bow out. I’ve made this blog about me, with the hopes that it has something for you.

Be well and happy.

My Memoir: http://tinyurl.com/relentlessbyspringer

It's a New Year but You Don't Need a New You

The pages of time have flipped the calendar from one year to the next and here we are yet again- being pummeled with the need to make resolutions and discover the ‘new you’ (said with intonations of a paid commercial announcer). Yuck, aack and patoohy!

Enough already, I say. How about we stop looking for the new you and simply discover the real you? Stop encouraging others to make lofty goals of what they hope to become and instead suggest they get to know who they are. Because that is how change occurs.

When you discover your authentic expression, you will soon learn if those extra ten pounds speak of your truth; and truth is a much healthier motivator than shame. When you listen and give voice to your thoughts and feelings, you will know those parts of you that are often the cause of, and attached to, the actions you hate most about yourself. It is there that you will soon unearth self-understanding and self-compassion; the tried and true tools we need most, though not the latest gadget or quick-fix. When you follow your lifelong impulse to spontaneously draw, write, dance, or any other creative expression, instead of burying your face in the latest how-to/must-do book, sparks fly and you realize you are alive. Alive- meaning meant to live a life, not simply survive.

The old method of operation suggests that there is something wrong with us that needs fixing, what I am suggesting is that who you truly are is enough. Hell, better than enough- let’s go with spectacular and, my favorite, fantabulous! You simply never knew or have forgotten this universal fact.

Yes, certainly it’s best to do something with the time that has been handed to you, most recently labeled 2017, but call it ‘allowing’. Allowing you to become intimate with yourself. Allowing honest expression. Allowing your light to shine. Allowing the ups, downs, good and bad that are a natural part of human existence. Allowing ourselves to pause so that the ‘next step’ might be handed to us versus frantically sought. Allowing no resolutions, only flow.

I promise you that if you attempt even a tad of what I have suggested, what you will find in the New Year is the authentic you; and that is the greatest discovery of all time.

Be well and happy.

My Memoir: http://tinyurl.com/relentlessbyspringer

Sacred Moments

I returned from my vacation to be thrust right back into the throws of motherhood. There were clothes to wash, grocery shopping to complete and meals to make, my flock awaiting my clearly defined duties. I fell right back into the swing of things but with one difference I was not expecting, I felt absolutely divine performing these normal, everyday tasks of living. It seems the vacation had given me the time and space to view my life from a new perspective.

I always knew my care-taking role was of importance, but suddenly I felt that running my children to the local Kohl's for sweatpants was nothing short of a blessed act. That I was providing nurturing for another soul felt monumentally significant. I could sense the beauty of my actions and feel the love filling the cabin of my SUV.

Over the past 17 years of being a mom I've executed similar acts many times over and I've made a point of reminding myself that what I do, no matter that it might seem mundane, is significant in the development of my children; that it provides them with a sense of self-worth and importance. Through my actions they understand that they matter, I mentally "got it" but have never felt the expanse of loving energy as clearly as I have most recently. I was no longer "doing" but was instead "feeling" and I was filled with nothing but gratitude that I might be in the position to shower another with acts of love.

The wonder of this understanding was that not only was I performing loving actions for others, not just my children but that the converse was true as well, that others were doing the same for me in kind. Again, I intellectually grasped this concept prior but now the loving deeds of others towards me hit me in waves of great comfort and joy, quite simply I felt love everywhere. To fully feel the impact of this truth that we've all been told many times over is the way of our universe, leaves me feeling humbled and immensely grateful.

Instantly the fear kicked in and I become concerned that I would lose this new found level of emotional wisdom. That's where my years of personal growth and awareness come into play and I realize that by focusing on that fear and loss, I will surely bring it into my reality. Thus, I continue to make concerted efforts to focus on the love that ripples throughout my day and my life, not its potential deficit.

I wish I could bottle this feeling and send it to each and every one of you so that you too might drink this sweet nectar and feel the hallowed grace of every act you perform for those significant to you in your daily life, as well as those they share with you. As my eyes well with tears, I know that nothing we do for another, not matter how humdrum it may appear, is ever wasted or insignificant. Millions, in fact, more than billions, of loving actions are enacted every second of every day in our day to day lives. Put your rose colored glasses on and see your world, our world, with the splendor that it is.

I leave you with a quote I found only minutes ago, a message from the universe to me and you: " What we do for ourselves dies with us. What we do for others and the world remains and is immortal."-Albert Pine

Be well and happy.

MyMemoir: http://tinyurl.com/relentlessbyspringer

How the Self-help Community is NOT Helping Us

I know, it sounds like an oxymoron, that title. But watching, listening and reading various blurbs post-election reminded once more that those intending to enlighten us on our spiritual paths are sometimes keeping us in the dark. How so?

Like many on the planet following the most recent USA presidential election, I took to the internet to connect, understand and process my many and varied thoughts and feelings. So many times I was bombarded with the notion that I should focus only on ‘the love’. It was suggested that I send, feel, radiate and embody only love.  And it only left me feeling hostile, unseen and unheard.

I most certainly embrace the notion that love was what the tumultuous situation needed but like many others, I wasn’t there yet. I resented the seeming denial of all my other emotions. I was scared, sad, enraged, confused, hopeless and anxious. Nowhere could I find the love. I couldn’t find it because it was buried underneath the avalanche of other feelings, feelings that required my introspection, venting and processing before I could once more stand with an open heart. They demanded my time and attention and I willing gave it to them.

That isn’t to say that my goal was to stay stuck in the muck of anger, my intention was to return to a place of calm and clarity, but I was simply refusing to ignore what else I was experiencing. I knew those experiences had something to teach me, and bulldozing my way through it would get me nowhere in very short order.

Why?

Let me ask you this: Have you ever felt angry, expressed that anger to another and been told, ‘You have nothing to be angry about,’ or ‘Your anger is only hurting you. Let it go,’? And how did you feel after those wise words were shared with you? Chances are, you felt even more livid, or at the very least intent on staying pissed off for as long as you damn well pleased.

What wasn’t offered in the scenario above is validation, the sense that another heard your emotions and needs. And being heard and seen is what each one of us craves. Others don’t necessarily have to agree with us, though we do enjoy the reciprocity, but only acknowledge our feeling and sharing. “Wow, I can tell you’re really ticked off,” goes a long way to allowing us to release our grasp on what we deem the most unpleasant feelings.

Which takes us back to the title of this post.

What I would like the self-help community, of which I am a part, to offer is permission for others to healthfully express the more uncomfortable thoughts and emotions. Express them in a fashion that is not attacking or hurtful to another with the intention of creating a flow. The flow will eventually (there is no time limit) release the mental chattering and clutter so that in time our place of center and calm can be seen and felt, and it is there that we can find the love.

It is my belief that we are on this planet Earth for a human experience. Part of that human experience is the vast amount of feelings offered to us. We do ourselves and others a disservice by not offering permission to be human. So I say, permission granted.

Be well and happy.

My memoir: http://tinyurl.com/relentlessbyspringer

This is the Mantra of Personal Growth

I made a recent post on Twitter that seemed to resonate with so many people and it got me to thinking…wondering exactly why.

Below is my tweet:

The first thing that struck me is that all of those people must be able to relate to feeling hurt by someone. I think it goes without saying that for all of us, the hurt will come in some form or fashion via betrayal, deception, malice or abuse of some sort, and usually at the hand of another human being. A human being unkind, thoughtless, selfish or cruel.

And therein lies our test, how do we react or cope with the pain? Do we embody those emotions, the feelings that the one that harmed us most surely felt as well as they lashed out? Do we become and own what has been thrown into the boxing ring?

It can be so very hard not to take a swing, at anyone really, for the punch we took. It’s often easier and swifter to pass along what has been dished out to us, but that is when we then lose ourselves. And we know it. And we grapple to heal, let go and accept.

That is exactly where I found myself as I sought healing and understanding for the violent and abusive acts I endured as a child, acts that began to turn me into someone I didn’t want, or know, myself to be. Below is an excerpt where I share just that:

                                                                                ***

Vengeance Is Not Mine

This book isn’t an act of revenge; it’s always been about healing and freeing myself from my past, releasing the vice grip of my parents. I was desperate to no longer carry them and their burdens in every cell of my being, everywhere I traveled. No matter where I turned, it felt as if their actions and misdeeds were some gelatinous parasite that had fused itself to my being. 

If I was motivated by revenge, then I would never have sought a way out. I would simply have acted and continued to act from my place of rage, the place that wanted to fight back and hurt in turn. I would not have been the seeker of understanding, processing, and compassion. I would have lashed out again and again, never satisfied with the level of chaos and pain I inflicted, always wanting to make them squirm in agony as they had done to me so many times before.

Let’s be realistic: I had fantasies of just that. It would have been so easy to go with what had become the norm, the stormy waters, but easy was never my way. Instead, I learned to surf the emotional rogue wave. I refused to allow it to completely pull me under, drown my spirit, or wreak a lifetime of havoc and emotional torture to anyone that got in my way. I was taught by a master, but remotely I knew that I am not him, nor am I what he taught me.

I caught that wave again and again until it carried me to the mystical land of forgiveness, for myself and them, where I finally released the anchor that bound me to the hope that the past could have been different. So far it’s taken me more than twenty-five years to unlearn what I was schooled in as a student. For me, this book is about remembering and re-learning who and what is my truth and having the courage to share that with the world, often feeling emotionally stripped and naked. I said he was a master, but what he didn’t realize was that I am as well. But unlike him, I chose not to master others, only myself.

                                                                                ***

And that is the challenge that is offered to us all as we make this way through this existence. There is no right way or deadline to meet. All that is asked is that we try, because trying is one step closer to our truth, not the truth of the one that hurt us. If you haven’t done so already, perhaps today is where it can begin for you too.

Be well and happy.

My Memoir: http//tinyurl.com/relentlessbyspringer

Interview with Kellie Springer for memoir- Relentless: A Journey of Forg...

Signs, Signs

Many of us are aware of the song that tells us that signs are everywhere. I have indeed found this to be the truth on my own journey of growth and healing. Once we aspire to increased personal awareness the universe conspires to support us in that quest.

Each and everything we encounter is purposeful in that it nudges us forward in our goal, if we are in tune to its presence. Some signs are delivered to us in neon, making them nearly unavoidable, while others are whispered phrases from our intuition or spoken words from another’s tongue. Each beckons us to examine them and ask what insight they have to come share.

The worst thing we can do with these offerings is to ignore them. Many times the mind supersedes the flashes of guidance being presented, discounting its importance and what we feel to be its meaning. I beg of you, do not heed the fearful chattering of your mind, but simply follow the trail of metaphoric crumbs that have been laid out for you on your path back to yourself.

That is exactly what I have done as I embarked on my odyssey of personal healing, one that led me to self-compassion and forgiveness of myself and others. No matter how insignificant the presentation seemed to my mental interpretation, I dared to explore its teachings. Never did the universe cease from sharing as it suggested, “Try this,” and “Did you hear that?”

Below is another excerpt from my memoir, Relentless, A Journey of Forgiveness, due to be released on Amazon next month. It is a prime example of the sometimes simple but profound tools that are given to us learn anew.

                                                                        ******

A Timeless Tale

Hans Christian Andersen came to lend me a helping hand as I sought to release and rebuild, or at least his story, The Ugly Duckling, had.

I kept having flashes of images from the version adapted and illustrated by Jerry Pinkney, one I had read to my boys in years past. I also kept hearing the title over and over again. What I remembered about the times I had read this story was my feelings of sympathy for the sad little duckling that struggled to fit in while enduring the others’ cruelties and, of course, the jubilation at his victorious ending.

Next the phrase, “I’m a swan,” kept replaying in my mind. At first I scoffed at idea that I was a swan, a seemingly vain proclamation, but it would not cease its incessant trumpeting into my awareness. Obviously, I was meant to listen, not just to the words, but the message itself.

Soon enough, I grasped that what I was being shown was the simple truth that I was the odd bird, the one that could never fit in and fully belong to my family of origin because I was a different breed. That’s not to say I was better than they, just that I was not the same. I could never be a duck because I was a swan; there was no changing that core truth. All of my years of trying to fit in to their mold were in vain, and could have only ended in the defeat that had become so familiar to me. I got it. There was never anything wrong with me!

Desperate times call for desperate measures, and I openly embraced a children’s story as my guide. Perhaps my process sounds quite elementary, but I tell you my shoulders dropped in relief yet another notch as I allowed the understanding to wipe away a bit more of the self-loathing grime that smothered and blanketed my soul.

Perhaps the story was also an omen of things to come, that I might just get my fairytale ending, but only after completing several more chapters of my own life.

                                                                        ******

I encourage you to adjust your dial to the universal broadcast and those flashes it interjects into your days as guideposts for what may come if you simply follow their lead. It is those things that cause you to pause, ponder and question- maybe even give you an internal jolt- that are the keys to the doors which you seek to unlock. It is through these signs that you can know that you are never alone or hopeless on your trek.

Be well and happy.

My book is now available on Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/Relentlessbyspringer

Rising to the Occasion

I've spent the past four years in the process of creating a book which might express the words of my heart and soul. It's contents are my travels for over the past twenty-five years within myself. It speaks of my path of healing for abuses I suffered as a child, but it is the voice of many that are committed to personal growth, self compassion and understanding. My words are authentic and raw. And it is with my words that I hope to inspire others on their on unique journeys. 

My mind has given me many reasons to "close the book" but it is my soul that pulls me forward and asks me to stand tall. I can only have faith that what I'm about to share has a purpose for someone, somewhere. Who am I to deny them what might  be an offering of understanding, validation and truth? Not sharing my story might be an act of self preservation, but it is possible that it would also be quite selfish.

And so, I move tentatively forward and onward, but I am moving just the same.


Below is an excerpt from my memoir, Relentless, A Journey of Forgiveness, which is to be released within the next couple of weeks on Amazon. I hope you will join me again soon for my completed book and that which I have come to share. 

I’m not a writer, nor do I pretend to be. In fact, while I admire the ability of those who can spin a spectacular tale, I don’t aspire to be that. If I bog my mind down with the rules of eloquent writing, I’ll lose my truth. And the truth is I’ve followed no road map to get me here as it’s often been my own private excursion, as a pioneer of my own landscape. No how-to manual was placed in my hands. There were no classes to take. I just took one step and then another, and so that’s how I’ll write, clear on my purpose and trusting that the path will be laid before me if I only have the courage to begin. What you now hold in your hands is the contents of the compartments of my life.

What are you being called to share, and will you too rise to the occasion?

Be well and happy.

My Book is now available on Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/Relentlessbyspringer

"Ancora Imparo"

That quote, translated as "I am still learning", is attributed to Michelangelo on his 87th birthday and could not be a more fitting phrase for my week, and my guess is for yours as well. It seems to me that we are all here learning multiple lessons, many times over. Just when we think we've mastered one particular hurdle, it presents itself directly in our path once again, only to cause us to stumble and fall.

My knees got skinned up this week as I too tripped over my own obstacles. It was a very familiar theme that I battled, that being fighting a losing battle. The title of my blog is by no means an exaggeration, I am relentless. I have held strong in the face of many assaults, but the hardest war ever waged has been within myself and has been about knowing when to disengage.

A relative's verbal onslaught returned me to that place in my mind where I charged the gauntlet that had been thrown down, with the tenacity of a bulldog. I become hell bent on engaging their irrational behaviors, hoping only to convince them of their outlandish and utterly ridiculous display. That quickly I am returned to the days of my childhood where I stood toe to toe with the insanity of my parents. Then it was truly about my survival. Today, time and space allow me to see the futility in trying to convince them of anything.

I had to walk away, from the bloodshed and from them. It's one of the hardest things I had to do because I am not a quitter and my heart had hopes of bringing them into a place of healing with me. The toughest lesson for me to learn, by far, is that a smart soldier knows when to turn and leave, not admitting defeat but instead displaying acceptance. In that acceptance the rage of a warrior is replaced with the grief of saying goodbye, cutting one of the last tenuous strings that kept us connected. It was ultimately a loving act not just for myself, but for them as well as I refused to continue to remain in conflict; playing a game that had only losers.

And so, I faltered for a few days on lessons not yet fully integrated, but the good news is that I was embattled for days, and no longer years. I have learned, and clearly, am still learning. I played out old energies within my mind but ultimately returned to my heart and permitted the tears to add another layer of healing to a time and place that is long gone. Today's family member had taken me there, but it was me that found my way out. I had come full circle, my dogged personality returning me to a moment of healing and truth, not a place of entanglement.

It is true, each and every one of us shall fall but the lesson is always, "What is the lesson?" With that spirit in mind we will remain victorious wherever life may lead us.

Be well and happy.

My Book: http://tinyurl.com/Relentlessbyspringer

The Practice of Practicing

There are many things I've written in these blogs that aren't news to many of my readers. The knowledge I share has been offered by numerous others in varying forms and fashions, and that's as it should be for repetition and practice appears to be one of our modalities of learning in this journey of life in which we are being schooled.

To many of those I encounter I stress that the information and techniques I share only work if they work and utilize them. This, of course, sounds fairly obvious but it has been my observation that the art of practicing our teachings is where many fall short. The society in which we live is all about the quick fix and the magical pill we can pop to cure us. The processes of self-growth and awareness are indeed magical but by no means are they the fast train to ultimate bliss. They require consistent effort, and plodding if you will, on our part in order that they may be the most effective.

After all, there are very few things that we've learned that didn't require repeated and prolonged practice, like walking for example. Just as we didn't master this skill in one fell swoop, so too do we have to "fall down and get back up" as we explore spiritual and personal growth, striving to develop a new skill set. If we never had the courage to pull ourselves back to standing after that first fall, or worse yet never dared to walk at all, we would remain stagnant and stymied in our world. This truth applies to every new tool we seek to utilize, each requires a determined approach that can only come from within. Walking was demonstrated by others as they meandered about. Parents support and encourage as children strive to perfect the art of personal locomotion, but never can anyone actually do the walking for you, the true drive comes from within and takes years to fully master the coordination of the growing and developing muscles.

As we seek to develop these new practices and "muscles" we can go nowhere without applied and continual personal effort. Attending a class or reading a book is not the only level in personal growth, simply the first, as this is not an osmotic process. The healers and teachers of our world will may "carry you" at times, as a parent would a young or tired child, but always you are released to explore the world and practice. It's one of the most simple and unwavering truths of growth.

I implore you to commit to making you, and the newest knowledge shared with you, a priority. The habits of our past are embedded deeply on all levels of our being and it is only with self commitment that we will slowly but surely make our way out of the confines of the old, which truly are tried but oft times no longer true to our present.

Be well and happy.

Popularity Contest

I lost that by a landslide this past week. Folks were not a fan of what I had to say, though it was the truth. A truth that I had taken time to carefully mold and shape so that it would land with ease within their minds and hearts. The majority had none of it and instead attacked me personally and directly for simply stating a fact, seeing no need to craft their words with the finesse which I sought. I kept hearing Billy Joel sing about the loneliness of honesty.

I knew before I made my declaration that I was entering stormy waters but after careful thought chose to dive in anyway. Why? Because it seemed important and because it involved children. It mattered to me because in time the children would be the ones to ultimately pay the price, and through no fault of their own. So I stood up and others tried to knock me down.

I won’t pretend it felt great. Hiding behind the skirt of the internet some people can be vicious. Nor will I proclaim that I am so virtuous that I didn’t want to lash back with what I found to be very fitting, insightful and witty comments to the absurdity I faced. My desire to remain neutral and not personal faded a bit each time someone slung words my way.

I knew I was being offered a lesson, one of the hardest ones we humans face- not getting caught up in what our fellow humans might think of us. So how exactly did I accomplish that? Not perfectly, that’s for sure, but that was not my goal. My goal was to bring myself back to center and my place of power each time I began to flounder. I dug deep in my toolbox and practiced what I know to be tried and true.

1-I vented. Getting it out of our head is the first healthy step to moving forward but it is imperative that we don’t stop there or else it’s all just a bitch session with no end. When we don’t move beyond this we keep ourselves trapped as a victim.

2-I focused on the minority of the “responders” that did support me, though their numbers were few.

3-I chose my battles. Some people were so invested in proving me wrong that I could have gone back and forth with them for days, and so I chose to remain mum and in my mind agreed to disagree. Other times I stood up for myself in an assertive fashion by simply responding that they had the right to their thoughts but they were not free to attack me, as I had not done so to anyone else.

4-I reminded myself that those that had a thing or two to say to me knew me not at all and intentionally concentrated on the people around me that do love me.

5-I listened to Mother Universe as quotes appeared in my day. Quotes such as: “It’s easy to stand with the crowd. It takes courage to stand alone.” Who actually said it, Mahatma Gandhi or Rumi, seems to be up for debate but I felt more secure with those wise words than with what was being offered to me via my social media responses.

6-I took a step back and tried to see it from the others’ perspective. I attempted to understand what had gotten them so riled up. I asked myself and those close to me if I could or should have done something different, while holding the space of being open to feedback instead of defensive. I stated, “I’m willing to learn.”  

7-I utilized a technique called Tapping to calm my racing thoughts.

8-My mind continually wanted to replay the events. It was then that I would say in response- No mind, we’re not going there. Let’s pay attention to and feel the beauty that surrounds us instead.

9-I reminded myself that it was not the crisis it felt like.

10-And I did it all again and again.

As the dust settled I wondered whether it was worth it and if I would do it all again. The answer, is yes. I concluded that the only thing I could have done differently was to say nothing at all, but I would not have felt happy with myself if I had chosen that route. I am here for a purpose and a cause and this situation fell under that umbrella. So I did what I came to do- which does not include being popular.

I share this all with you so that you too might know how best to handle the criticisms and judgments of our fellow human beings. And I tell you that I could have done none of this if I hadn’t taken the time to know myself and my truth personally. What I did, through the years and this past week, is what we are all being called to do. I share my path with you in hopes that you shall begin, or continue, on yours.

Be well and happy.

Cloaked in Anger

Anger is a natural human emotion, though often judged as belonging to the out of control. It only becomes out of control when we refuse to listen to its words. So, I’m sending you an invitation to meet your anger and chat a bit. It has a lot to teach you. No doubt it has many unkind and hurtful things to spew- let it out. A healthy expression might be to write it out, shout it out when you’re all alone or punch it out onto your sofa. Most importantly do not censor what it has come to say.

When both you and the anger feel spent I’d like to you to search for what now lies exposed. What other feeling was hiding below the animosity? More often than not they are the emotions that create a sense of vulnerability, those that don’t roar with the magnitude of our dear friend anger. Feelings such as: loneliness, sadness, grief, hurt, abandoned, unappreciated and unloved. The feelings that make us cry and the ones society tells us are another sign of weakness. Often shielded by anger we find a broken heart.  

It is in the process of personal growth that we must give voice to our anger and appreciation for what it has come to share but it is also a vital step to dig deeper, because the anger is only on the surface of that which seeks healing. When we don’t just skim the surface what we discover is the material rich with our needs, truth and voice. My last piece of advice, fear not any of this because the beauty that awaits- is you.

Be well and happy.

All or None

That is how so many of us approach our lives. We invest ourselves wholeheartedly in either avoidance or immersion after identifying a project or issue that we deem attention worthy or in need of repair. For most, their whole lives are spent solely in the land of All or None as a standardized method of operation for any and all functions. Personally, I’ve preferred the immersion technique. But it doesn’t matter which way you swing, neither is a healthy approach. So what is?

It’s the place that stands smack dab in the middle of All or None, and it is known as ‘Some’. Some doesn’t receive much credit in our harried world. It seems to imply that we made a half ass attempt. “Faster, harder, longer and more, more, more!” says the world. And like a good soldier, we obey. Then we come crashing down, our resentment at an all-time high while our energy is at its all-time low. In that space we pull a pillow over our eyes and tell everyone and everything, including our own selves, “No more. I can’t and I won’t.” Both extremes are caustic and do little to nurture us, those in our life or the world at large.

What Some allows is balance. It’s the place where we can set healthy boundaries and investments of our time. It permits us to say, “I love you but I will not sacrifice myself in the process because I know I must tend to my well-being also.” Some reminds us that to-do lists aren’t to be avoided nor are they the strict script of what we are meant to accomplish in our lives. When we strive towards personal growth Some says, “All in due time and only one step at a time.” Some creates the space to breathe as it lacks the external and internal pressures of All or None.

Some is full of possibilities- as in somewhere, sometime, someday, someplace, someone and something. It tells us that we have a choice and the world is full of wonder, not dogma. Some isn’t just the middle ground, it is also the higher one as it elevates our awareness so that we might make conscious rather than reactive choices. Some can be our center.

I encourage you to explore what areas in your life are calling for you to put Some into play. Give yourself permission, in some area of your life, to partake in the slow and steady pace Some has to offer.

Be well and happy. 

Prince

By now our world has been saturated with the tune Purple Rain. Everywhere we turn there is a clip or article about his artistry or life, but none of it can fill the void. The world still feels smaller without him among us. It made me pause and take time to think exactly why, besides his obvious talents, he touched so many among us in such a profound way.

My goal was to describe his impact in the simplest manner possible. What I found as I stood back, was the word authenticity. It sounds a bit bland to describe such a vibrant being with that word but allow me to elaborate.

Prince the performer was anything but ordinary. He sported the most flamboyant outfits, like bikini bottoms with thigh high boots. A deep royal purple became this petite man’s symbolic color and blurring the lines between male and female was a magic he pulled off with the greatest of ease. I’m not going to lie, some of his hairstyles were questionable, at least if I saw them on my own husband; but I always thought as I gazed at him, that looks good on you. But then everything always did because even though he was putting on a show, it never seemed to be an act.  

His performances were packed with deep passion and left us dripping with the emotions found in the lyrics. Whatever we felt when we listened to his songs, and there were a myriad of experiences, we were left charged with life, ‘electric’ as the song Let’s Go Crazy suggests. He poured his feelings into his craft and quenched the thirst within all of us to know that part of ourselves as well.

The public persona we were permitted to witness radiated extraordinary power and confidence, as well as humility. He seemed to know and own who he was, his grandeur, without intentionally making others feel smaller.

He stood in front of millions, scrutinized by some no doubt, and said through his actions, “This is who and what I am.” And he did it loud and he did it proud. He did what we all long to do, be our truest self.

Now you can see, the word authentic is anything but vanilla. It takes great courage and resilience to live and thrive in that space, something he appeared to pull off time and again. He was a role model for how to stand in your power. 

That is what I believe he touched in each of his fans, permission to be who we are as individuals. Permission to be grand and humble at the same time as we take a step away from the norm. To me, his legacy isn’t simply the notes and words he wrote, but the dynamic energy, conviction and passion he shared and dared us all to live.

I’ve no doubt, he would want us all to be well and happy.

Dot-to-Dot

I was involved in a conversation with an individual the other evening when suddenly I became aware that I was helping her to connect the dots. I used to love to those puzzles as a child, they gave me a real sense of completion as I saw the full picture come into focus. Apparently I'm not the only one that enjoys this activity because on the market today there are books with supremely challenging versions that have numbered points going into the 1,000's or, with complicated coordinates to follow. To take a jumbled mess and make order out of it fascinates me. That, I realized as I stood deep in conversation, is what I've done with my own life for over a quarter of a century and how I support others in my practice as an alternative healer.

When we sit down to complete a dot-to-dot we always start at the beginning in order that we might move forward in the creation of the picture. Without those first points the picture can not reach its full completion. The same is true for our lives. It is necessary to travel to different points of our past and follow their path into our present to see the picture they are helping us to currently manifest. The picture of your today is not random but instead has a path that has led you to where you're standing at this time.

There's no escaping that past for it has a direct impact, consciously or unconsciously, in the creation we live today. When we go back to those significant times in our life and identify their ramifications, we can clearly see how those that have been left unresolved are played out in our present lives. The same or similar thoughts, patterns, fears and energies play out again and again from those unhealed events, the dots always connecting back in time.

If we have the courage to visit those points of our past or wounded self, we will find that the power to create a new vision of our present moment emerges. By bringing awareness to those key events in our history we begin to discover a new expression of ourselves and our lives for the future; a new picture materializes. Our power lies not in denying or running from what came before but in revisiting it with the intentions to understand its purpose and lessons.

Just like the puzzles offered today, this can prove to be super challenging and daunting at times but never have I heard another bemoan their choice to more fully understand themselves. I have found that it is as we connect the dots that the full beauty of our being unfolds before our eyes, the picture of our true selves taking form with greater clarity. Out of chaos order appears.

Be well and happy.

Listening Ears

I used to use that phrase with my kids when they were young and I wanted their attention. “Do you have your listening ears on?” I would ask. It was actually quite an effective little technique and this past week or so I heard the universe asking me the same question. I was being called to listen and observe and this is what I discovered:

*There are times in our lives when we need to remain silent and allow the truths to speak to us instead of being intent on speaking the truth.

*None of us has all the answers but we each have some and that makes each one of us a valuable piece of life’s puzzle.

*It’s a relief to know that we are under no obligation to make sense to others. It’s annoying to realize they are also under no obligation to make sense to us.

*A befitting response to the sentence, “That’s the way people raised kids back then…” is: “Yes, but it still hurt.”

*The best return you, and our world, will ever receive on an investment is the one you’ve made on striving to love, honor, respect and nurture your children.

*Children grow older and become the adults you admire most in this world.

*Not all children grow older so be sure to take more time to admire them rather than correct them.

*When we are alive others are focused on what’s wrong with us. When we die people only speak of our glory. Neither is an accurate portrait.

*The things that need to be said most are the ones people are afraid to talk about.

*Your story is important to someone somewhere. Tell it, even if it’s not important to everyone.

*When your body says, “Stop,” it is wise to listen for it is far more intelligent than your mind.

*The medical profession and those in it are profound gifts to our lives; it is also a source of limited knowledge and misinformation. Remember that when you are making health care decisions for yourself and your loved ones. Ask. Research. Learn. And do it all again so that you might make an informed decision, not an unconscious one.

*If you are willing to offer a complaint about service be sure that you are just as willing to share a compliment.

*Sometimes your opinion is invaluable and other times it means nothing at all. It’s best to know the difference between the two and act accordingly.

*A lot of people want to know how to do it but very few are willing to take the time and make the commitment to do it.

*Silence is healing.

*So is being alone.

*Children pretend in order to expand their world and the magic in it. Adults pretend in order to deny their problems and issues until their world becomes a shrunken and isolating place lacking any magic.

*There’s no way that I can share all that my listening ears have captured. Some things are meant to be learned on your own.

*Everything I’ve just shared is nothing new. You and I have heard it all before and we’ll hear it a thousand times more and in a thousand different ways until we get it, or we don’t…

No doubt the universe is calling to you too. Do you have your listening ears on?

Be well and happy.