Integrative Medicine Specialist, Intuitive Coach
If I had you by my side
What would I do?
You would see me
I would see you
A thread as old as time itself
Connects us at the heart
There is no end
There is no start
Time, it passes
And yet stands still
One moment or a lifetime
I never get my fill
Your thoughts at times call out to me
They stir me to my soul
A dream, a whisper, a chance
A history that time stole
My mentor, Kelly Notaras, (ok, she’s not my mentor, but I’m just going to pretend because it sounds fancier and because I took her writing class and bought her book and she’s fabulous), says it’s not a writing practice if you’re not writing. So, for today, because it’s been a good, long, full day, I’m just going to write about something light. Just for fun. Just for practice.
I’m going to do this post, and likely a series of other posts, as stream of consciousness style so that I can just let the thoughts flow and practice writing.
My husband swears he was a Viking in another life. Well, actually, sometimes he also says he’s a viking in this life. He is not Vikingly in stature. In fact he is short, dark and handsome. But still, he likes to tell new people that we’ve only just met that he’s half Mexican and half Scandinavian. He loves to joke like this and I always make it obvious that he’s joking because I can’t help but laugh. Though I have to wonder now if this is a relief for people who feel like they can’t exclaim, “Really?!” in great surprise, out of politeness and yet that is exactly what they would love to do.
It’s ok because I’m pretty sure I was Jamaican in some other lifetime, at least that’s the way I would have it. I would be jammin’ with Bob Marley, or at least with my friends at his concerts while we sit on the beach banging tambourines or smoking pot. I definitely lived somewhere hot and in the sunshine, none of this cold winter weather!
How many lifetimes have I lived? How many more will I live? Is there ever a home-coming time when I finally get to just enjoy my graduation?
There are times when I feel like I’m failing, or not “good enough”. But lately, I have really come to the realization that I am doing exactly what I wanted to do.
Sometimes I would get frustrated with myself and think “If I’m so determined, diligent and hardworking, why don’t I have more clients or why am I not making more money?” for example. Or, not so much now, (not since I had my West Nile experience), I used to think, “I wanted to be a mom for as long as I can remember and now that I am, I feel like I’m not good at it or I feel guilty for not enjoying it more?” More than what? What was I comparing it to?
When I was making money in a career, I was wishing to be a full-time mom. When I became a full-time mom and caretaker of my home, I felt guilty for not being more career focused and bringing in more money. What was going on here? The common denominator was my mindset and thinking I needed to be something more.
A dear friend of mine from my middle school years helped me realize a couple years ago that I am already doing exactly what I set out to do since I was young. He said “Look at everything you’ve done, you went to school, you got your education, you’ve had your career, you’re raising a beautiful family as an awesome wife and mother. You are exactly the way I knew you would be since we were kids!” I had to take a step back and realize he was right.
The thing is, I was so focused on the family I had lost (when my parents split up and my world came crashing down), and how I had always “messed everything up” and “gotten it all wrong”. I was just thinking about how I always had to be better and do better, I was so focused on fixing that I hadn’t even stopped to realize that I, along with my husband and God’s guidance, I had built the very thing I set out to––a family; a strong, beautiful family.
Then, yesterday, my husband took the day off work so we could take some time to celebrate my birthday together. We didn’t do anything extraordinarily special, we went grocery shopping together (something we used to do when we first married but hadn’t done in years just for practicality), and we had a long lunch together. I was telling him that I used to feel guilty for not “working harder” at something that brings in money, but that I have now realized that we have the life we have because I have deliberately created margin in our lives for peace. He has the ability to focus on his career and how it can bless us because he does not need to worry about what’s going on at home or the well-being of his children and the state of our family because I have the time and space to do that. And we were able to take this day off to do simple things with no pressure, just peace, because we have been deliberate about creating it in our lives.
And then, I remembered what I had in my heart, close to 5 years ago after our youngest was born––I was on the cusp of a career change because destiny was calling me. I told myself that I was going to spend the next 5 years learning everything I could about natural healing, and seeing whatever clients I had space for, while raising the kids so that when they were all in school full time, I’d be ready to step into this new career as a natural healer. And I realized I’m doing it.
Those moments when I feel like I’m not doing enough or not getting it right come when I compare myself to other people’s journeys. I remembered that promise in my heart and it looks and feels like success to me because I realized I am doing exactly what I said I was going to do, and I’m doing it well.
I feel like a lot of people misunderstand Jesus and why he came here (to Earth). The Bible has been kind of ruined by stuffy, religious people who get too focused on rules and lose sight of a relationship with God.
Jesus was a radical and, I have to believe, the most confident guy to ever walk the planet. He did not waste time trying to prove himself to anybody, ever. I think of the story of when He was talking to the woman at the well. If you don’t understand the customs of the day this may not seem like a big deal but this woman was a woman with a reputation and she was not allowed to access the well in the cooler morning hours with the women of good reputation; she was also a Samaritan. So, a triple whammy, a woman, a woman with a reputation, and a Samaritan––Jews and Samaritans did not associate, a man typically did not spend time talking to a woman that was not his wife, especially one that had a reputation as an adultress. And yet, when His disciples arrive and ask Him why he’s talking to this woman the Bible makes no reference to Him offering even one explanation as to why He was talking to her. Nothing about what is right or wrong, good or bad about it, the story basically leads to the woman finding salvation and telling everybody she knows about Jesus and His greatness.
This is what I love about Jesus, he is just so BadAss! He does not explain His motives. He does not answer out of compulsion or a need to show others why He is right. He doesn’t break the rules but rather shows us that there is more to life than just following rules. Like when the Pharisees accuse His disciples of “working” on the Sabbath because they are picking grains of wheat to eat when they are very hungry––He shows us that the Sabbath was made for us, not that we were made to follow the Sabbath. Yes, we are to rest but not out of a compulsion to follow the rules. Rather, the Sabbath was made for us to rest and to take time to feed our spirits with time and attention. Jesus shows us that the rules are meant to care for us, not to control us; they are meant to give us our best life. The woman at the well would not have experienced a changed life for the better if Jesus had stuck to following the rules and customs of the day by not associating with a Samaritan woman. The rules are meant for people, not the other way around.
The “rules” carve out a straight and easy path for us to follow be we are meant to be led down that path by The Spirit of our Creator. The rules are meant to make our way smooth so that we can focus on what really matters: our connection to Source that allows us to be in touch with Self, others and our environment. Mmm, my heart feels at peace just thinking about that.
For the longest time, I didn’t think I had a story. No major traumas, no near death experiences, no escaping from a cult or whatever else makes an “amazing” story. I thought I was too ordinary to have a story that anyone would want to know about. Ordinary compared to what?
That was the problem, I was comparing myself and my story to others. Trauma is relative, and because I had grown up under a veil of shame I don’t even think I realized I had traumas for the longest time. Living with that much shame is a trauma in itself I think, but I’ll get into that in another post.
Another aspect of my hesitancy is that I don’t want to be a victim. I don’t want to be seen or labeled as a victim by anyone else because I don’t feel like one, at least not anymore. Sometimes, when I think about telling my story, I imagine other moms reading it thinking “oh that poor girl, if only…” focusing on how tragically pathetic I was and how I needed to be saved. I don’t want anyone’s pity. I just want to be seen. I want others to be able to read my story and realize that the kid, teenage girl, or the young woman, they are secretly or not so secretly judging––assuming she knows she’s wasting her potential, or assuming she’s making stupid choices on purpose––is maybe just floundering around in life, feeling invisible and in need of some love and guidance. She doesn’t need your pity, she needs your authenticity.
I just believed that all the stuff that happened to me or the things I experienced in my life were a result of my own clueless naivete and that if I hadn’t been so stupid none of it would have happened. And maybe that’s true, but it doesn’t disqualify me from having a story and needing to tell it. After all, I’ve learned from it, maybe someone else can too.
It has become quite apparent to me within the past 6 that I need to write and share my story.
So, I took a brief, but very useful and encouraging, writing course online with Reid Tracy and Kelly Notaras. Then, I bought Kelly Notaras book, The Book You Were Born to Write. She says in order to be a writer all you really need to do is write; you need a writing practice. In the book, she acknowledges her hope that the reader would write something after each section.
The truth is, I had made my 100 Days commitment even before I’d take the writing course or started reading her book. And, I’ve already written probably two posts about how I’ve been slacking off on this commitment. It’s probably not realistic to write everyday when you have small children around-–that was probably the most common excuse I was telling myself. And although it’s valid, it’s still an excuse. Then I was procrastinating my writing because the things I have to say are not always the easiest to write about––but who cares? No one is reading this blog right now, no one but me! “Stop making excuses!” I tell myself.
But then I remind myself about the physics of progress; and knowing the way I am, I need to establish a writing habit first and then get into the nitty gritty stuff, while allowing space for the nitty gritty to flow naturally whenever that is the case.
So, here I go, practising: Today I read about the difference between traditional publishing and self-publishing and what’s involved in each avenue. Regardless of which avenue I pursue, it’s evident to me that I need to begin, or rather resume, building my audience. Though, with self-publishing this is less of a deterrent as I can start and publish without having a large audience; traditional publishers, because of the way the business works now, they basically won’t even look in your direction if you don’t bring a large audience to the table.
Given that I feel pretty shy about telling my story, I would probably prefer writing it without a huge audience at first, I really like to process my own thoughts before sharing them. Either way, it’s a beast. Writing a book, is a big undertaking. It’s also a path of self-discovery and that is what I’m most looking forward to. That, and all the people I will meet and get to know along the way!
I’m noticing a lot of resistance to doing these blog posts. Not just the blog posts, but an online group series that I’ve been working on, in my head, for a couple months now. I mean, resistance from myself. I find a lot of excuses. They are good excuses, like stuff that actually needs to get done, but it leads me away all too easily. It doesn’t just lead me away, it’s a comfort. It’s stuff I can do that doesn’t have me putting myself out there and being vulnerable.
Why can’t I get all this stuff I want to say out onto the page? What is holding me back? I am simultaneously afraid that I will be amazing and also a major flop; that no one will want to hear what I have to say and that I won’t be able to keep up with being “a success”, whatever that means. It’s a perfect way to do nothing!
I asked a friend/colleague today if she was afraid when she first started teaching. She is so natural, and when I participate in her classes and calls, you would never know that she’s nervous and everything flows. She said she’s always scared but that she chooses to expand her life anyway. It was brief but it was exactly what I needed to hear.
I believe it was Mandela who said that “Courage is not the absence of fear but the triumph over it”. It’s ok to be scared but do the thing anyway. I know this is what I need. I may have to tell myself this a few times before it really sinks in, but making the decision to do it scared is an important part of the process. I am working on my process. I have made the decision and I’m on my way to unstoppable.
Are there things you would love to be doing? Things that you know would expand your life? What’s stopping you? Would you like to know what the unstoppable you looks and feels like? Ask me how.
I have a lot to say. Typically it’s deep stuff, not your first-date kind of conversation. I’ve noticed a lot of people don’t like this or can’t handle it; I get it, it’s not comfortable looking at stuff that challenges your belief systems. I’m not saying this to imply that I’m better than anyone or that I’ve got it all figured out, but I’ve learned how to lean in. To lean in and look at what’s behind that discomfort.
This morning, a lot of great stuff came up during my morning exercise/meditation routine that I wanted to write about and I was going to get to that as soon as the kids were off to school. But then, I started cleaning my kitchen. “Just quickly get the dishes into the dishwasher and clear the sink,” I told myself. But that turned into washing all the dishes that couldn’t go into the dishwasher, wiping down all the countertops, stove and table and sweeping, etc. I noticed I was procrastinating. I was putting off writing about all those things that are so important to me. Why? Because looking at stuff that challenges your belief systems is uncomfortable and I’ve struggled nearly all my life to believe that I matter.
Putting my thoughts down in writing makes them more tangible and real and only people who are smart enough or qualified enough (compared to who?) deserve to have a voice. At least that’s what I’ve struggled with: believing in myself; believing that I’m enough.
What if I fail miserably? What if I’m misunderstood? What if nobody even notices? So many what if’s, but the bottom line is this: the only thing that’s going to help me overcome the fear of not being good enough is to do the very thing I’m afraid I’m not good enough to do.
Even if, as I write these posts, no one else is reading them, there will come a day when others do see it. That is, after all, why I’m doing this, teaching myself how to tell my story and how to talk about it in a way that might benefit others or save them from going through the same crap. I have learned and been impacted by other people’s stories, and so it matters––my story is important.
I was using my clean house as a way to feel as though I’d accomplished something. Instead what I noticed is that I would have a cleaner house but I would still feel unaccomplished at the end of the day because I wasn’t doing the things that really matter; what I came here to do. I’d have a cleaner house but my heart would feel cluttered and weighed down with all the dreams I’ve left there tangled amongst the weeds of everyday life. And now I’m realizing I’d rather have a messy house and a clean heart. And, as I begin to cultivate those dreams and coax them out of my heart and into reality, the rest will follow.
No sooner do I write a post about how much I hate hypocrisy than do I catch myself in it. Perhaps this is why I hate it so much. It is a sneaky, slippery slope, and easy to fall into.
My sister was coming to visit yesterday, which the kids always get really excited about, and I found myself making a secret phone call to her ahead of time asking her to smuggle in some Sour Patch Kids candies to replace the ones that I told the kids I’d share with them. I did share with them when we first opened the bag, but then over the course of the next week or so, I polished off the rest. (Insert *eek face*. I rarely buy sour gummies and this is why!)
The kids have probably forgotten about those candies already, but rather than face the prospect of telling them that I’d eaten the rest without them, I was trying to pull of a scam. I could hear my inner voice accusing me, pointing a finger and demanding me to remember what I had just posted about. I could feel the familiar grasp of shame starting to creep in, so I looked at that. What was I worried about? What was I trying to avoid? It was more than likely that the kids wouldn’t even ask about those candies and I wouldn’t have to face it. But more importantly, what lessons was I robbing them of if I just pulled off my scam and replaced the candies? What would I be doing to myself by bringing yet another bag of those delicious temptations into the house again?
Wouldn’t it be better to be honest with them? I know, as a kid, it didn’t help me at all to try and believe that my parents were perfect when I could clearly see they weren’t––nobody is.
I didn’t go through with the candy smuggling. And if the kids ask about the candies at some point, I will tell them they got eaten and that one day we can buy more. And it will probably be a good opportunity to talk with them about self-control, and even some strategies to help us with our self-control.; like not buying a lot of candy and keeping it in the house.
Rather than save my pride, I decided to give my kids the gift of this opportunity to learn about how not perfect their mother is, so that they too can be relieved of that incredible pressure to be perfect.
I made my first semi-precious gemstone bracelet while at my very first BodyTalk course almost exactly three years ago. I actually made two bracelets that weekend while at the course; the instructor had a large selection of beads.
Until then I never paid much attention to rocks. I accompanied my sister to a rock show in the spring before that course and just kind of thought to myself, “what is the big deal?” I did find myself drawn to the malachite stones, but I just couldn’t bring myself to spend ten bucks on a little rock, “What’s the point? It’s just going to sit there and collect dust on my dresser. Rocks are silly.” I was telling myself whatever I needed to to not buy into this rock craze. “Some people fall for this kind of thing, but not me. Nonsense.” (I did end up leaving that rock show with one of those Himalayan salt lamps. I had a good reason though: my baby suffered from terrible eczema at the time and I was willing to try anything to make her atmosphere even a little bit better. But I don’t need rocks for myself, ridiculous!)
So when I found myself in front of that vast selection of rock beads at the BodyTalk course the next winter, I was still trying to play it cool, kind of. I wasn’t really planning to make anything, I was just going to hang around and chat on our break. The other participant in our small class, was really into it and asked if she could make a bracelet. And I found myself again drawn to the malachite, and I said so out loud. “So go ahead and make one” said the hostess; she was generous and let us go through her selection and make whatever bracelets we wanted at just the cost of the beads. What the heck, why not? After all, I was here for transformation wasn’t I? (Why was I so resistant to the rocks?)
I sat down, and before I knew it I was making a bracelet. I didn’t have anything specific in mind, I just let my intuition guide me and I made two beautiful bracelets over the course of that weekend; I also made one for my daughter, V, who at the time was 5 and would be having a birthday soon.
I love those bracelets and wore them almost exclusively for a whole year. Then a friend gifted me a beautiful bracelet almost exactly a year after that. She told me the lady she bought it from said the bracelet was called “Energia del Universo”, or energy of the universe. Wow! I wore that often too, until one day it got caught on something as I was unloading groceries and it broke, exploding all over the ugly floor of my dark garage. I managed to rescue most of the beads, I think all of the important ones that represented the planets and I have to add in a few other beads and spacers to make it complete again.
That same summer when my universe bracelet broke, I bought a beautiful Throat Chakra bracelet, with blue lace agate and crackle quartz and a dangle that said Laugh. That bracelet broke one day, too. I managed to find all the pieces and put it back together again, even though shortly after fixing it the dangle mysteriously got caught on something and catapulted somewhere in my bedroom––I still think I’ll find it again when the timing it right. That bracelet broke again not long after I fixed it. I was down in my basement beating the punching bag while wearing it and my other two first bracelets that I had made. The throat chakra bracelet was the only one that broke. I found out later that, at the time when it broke, a dear friend of mine was having a severe allergic reaction in the middle of a parking lot––she had lost her voice in more ways than one; the throat chakra is all about communication.
I have never had one of the bracelets that I’ve made fall apart or break, until today. I was wearing one that I made recently, within the last month. It was beautiful with Red Garnet and Red Tiger’s Eye, Amethyst and Rhodonite. But, earlier today I had been thinking that I should maybe remake it; it was a touch too small, I didn’t quite like the way it fit but I wasn’t really willing to take it apart because I wasn’t sure how to give it a better fit without fundamentally changing the pattern, which I liked very much. However, life was telling me it needed a change because it fell apart when I took it off. I managed to find all the pieces so tomorrow I will have to take a look at it. Red Garnet is about self-confidence and finding life’s purpose, issues that are staring me in the face these days as I am making lots of moves toward my dreams. Bold moves that I would not have dared to do before, but I’m stepping out in faith and not even my fear can stop me now.
Maybe at first I didn’t want to lend any truth or consideration that rocks could have their own properties and purposed because I didn’t know how to reconcile that with the religious teachings I’d been exposed to. But as I listen to the guidance of Holy Spirit, I am reminded of how all of creation sings God’s praises, and reminded of how very specific the instructions as to which stones should be laid into the breastplate of the High Priest in the Old Testament. As I have learned to open up to my intuition, I have developed a real joy of working with the beads and following the promptings I get to use certain stones or colours and specific combinations. Some people enjoy bracelets made of only one type of stone, that’s fine. I enjoy making a symphony of stones that are suited to the purpose they are to serve and the frequency they are to carry for the wearer.
I have made lots of bracelets now, since those first two. I have made plenty as custom orders or ones that I have premade and sold. I know that each of the stones have their own properties and always work intuitively with them. I love to do this for clients, too. When someone orders a custom bracelet for a specific purpose or person. I love to get feedback from people, like the client who was feeling a lot of anxiety and persecution, telling me that she feels so much calmer since wearing the bracelet I made for her. Or the lady from my dad’s work who wanted a bracelet to bring her good luck and good fortune for when she plays cards with her friends sending him a picture wearing the bracelet with her winnings in front of her, to name a few. I’m not a pro, I don’t have all the properties of all the stones memorized, I just follow my heart and put all my love into each of the bracelets as I make them and I truly believe the wearer of each one feels that as they wear them. I like knowing that each time they put on a bracelet I made, they are wearing a little piece of joy around their wrist.