How did the stars seem to know so much about me?
My mother’s mental illness had her looking for solace anywhere and I was one of those objects of solace. She would tell me of her deep sadness and I would say positive, encouraging things to her often. Most of the time, I had no idea what I was even talking about. I was in elementary school, I hadn’t learned too much about the world. Yet, she would always say I knew exactly what to say and when she asked how I knew, I would reply, without hesitation, that God told me to say it. Ain’t no big thang.
Looking back as an adult, with skeptical and questioning logic, I would say, “well, of course it was comforting. She was as depressed as it gets and I was young, hopeful and positive spewing whatever desperate ray of sunshine I could muster.” But the truth is, I was far from hopeful and positive and not full of sunshine. I wrote one poem after another of darkness and misery, of sadness and anger, of living in a dark hole. So what if, maybe, just maybe, God really was speaking through me to offer my desperate mother some sense of hope?
My interest in the occult ended somewhere in adolescence after my mother died and was replaced with booze and numbing out any uncomfortable emotion. If God had any chance of speaking through me, it was going to have to get through the layer of toxins I’d put in my body.
Somewhere in college, my beloved grandmother started talking to me about the afterlife and her spiritual beliefs and because I loved her so dearly and respected her so much, I jumped on board to the New Age train. We traded books, talked of God, spirits, energy and strange, serendipitous events. It was so fascinating and the more I learned, the more peaceful I felt. Like the missing puzzle pieces were being handed directly to me.
The busyness of full time work, marriage and children distracted me from furthering my spiritual side and instead left me with lots and lots of anxiety. Although I loved being married and being a mother and greatly enjoyed the work I did as a counselor, the pressure I put on myself to do even more was huge and the voids I felt were large and looming. There were many whispers and opportunities for me to change my attitude and shake things up, but I tuned many of them out. After all, change is scary!
In the winter of 2013, I was in the darkest place of my life. My marriage was ending and life as I knew it and dreamed it would be would never be the same. Yet the entire time, I heard those whispers of support, encouragement of which direction to take and distinct ways to take care of myself. I began to meditate daily, withdrew from my everyday worries and spent months healing with my long time best friend I once married. It was both incredibly painful and incredibly rewarding. I began to understand myself and who I was and appreciate all I had to offer. I allowed my nonstop chatty mind to slow down so I could actually hear my inner thoughts and not just the babble that rambled all day.
In the early Spring of 2013, I approached the hardest part of my new reality…the physical separation of my family. I dreaded it immensely and questioned myself daily. It was at this point I was introduced to Integrated Energy Therapy, quite randomly I would add, at a holistic health fair I wasn’t even sure I’d go to. But I was drawn to the table and the description of what the modality offered. One empowerment session later and the warmth of the amazing woman who’d eventually be my teacher, and I was hooked. In my typical inquisitive fashion, I skipped receiving a full healing and chose to learn IET instead. I was intrigued how this stuff worked! The first class was incredible, but wasn’t sure I needed to continue. In my also typical fashion, I questioned everything. Maybe I just needed a flavor…yet I continued to be intrigued. I took the Intermediate class two weeks later. The class that changed my life.
A week before the class I was in court to officially announce my dissolving marriage. The following week my best friend purchased a house and moved out. The night before the class I sobbed for hours. The morning of the class, I remember standing in the shower willing myself to move. I don’t recall ever being so depressed. I just kept telling myself I had to get there. I forced myself to go.
I can’t say there was an exact moment or a lightening bolt or anything, but the healings I gave and received that day altered me forever. My natural skeptic wanted to believe there was something to this energy stuff, but I couldn’t see it, I couldn’t rationalize it, I just had to hope it was true. I knew it made me feel good, but could that be enough? I could tell you how I physically pulled an energy block out of my friend’s third eye (with lots of angelic help) or how I received “messages” that were loud and clear for me to share. But what made me a believer from that day forward was how I felt, right down to my soul. By the end of the class, my despondent self was long gone and an excited, energized over the top happy me talked my friend’s ear off the entire hour ride home. We still laugh at how I was seemingly on speed!
I have since been trained to become a Master Instructor with lots of fun angelic energy tricks and am able to teach the modality I’ve come to love and immensely respect. I know, with the utmost confidence that we all benefit from opening ourselves up and allowing ourselves to heal. And with that healing and trust, our lives can and will change for not the better, but the best!
Looking back, I do believe that God, the Universe, the Angels, my guides, whatever you want to call that Divine help, played a role in helping me help my mother and every other person who comes to me for help. I feel so fortunate, so grateful, so blessed to be able to share my gifts. After all, they are meant to be shared!