Inner Focus Reiki

Kyle

When Corey tried to schedule a session, I didn’t have any openings until the end of June but I had a suspicion I’d get a cancellation. Sure enough, the next day I had an opening for mid-May and then within a few more days, I had another for the following week. Evidently “someone” had pulled some powerful strings as Corey was able to see me the week after his initial phone call. That’s virtually unheard of.

Corey tells me his brother, Kyle, has been appearing in his dreams and most recently, at the foot of his bed. Kyle said, “You’ve got to call her.” Corey replied he’d do it when he was ready. Kyle, in a voice that brooked no discussion said, “Now” and so Corey did. He laughs and says when Kyle used to say “jump” he would respond, “What boots do you want me to wear?”

Corey’s younger and only brother died in a tragic auto accident over two years ago as he was just beginning his adult life. He was going to college, had a girlfriend and wanted to farm the land. He was just 20 years old when he left us.

Before Corey can verbally ask Kyle says, “There was no pain.” Corey’s eyes widen and Kyle says he was unconscious once his head hit the ground. As he begins to tell me what happened, I feel a blinding headache and then all sensation from my neck down is gone. I feel paralyzed. Kyle validates my empathic feelings by telling me he remembers a sudden bad headache and then there was no feeling after that. He said he wasn’t “there” when the weight of the vehicle crushed his spine.

Corey begins to ask more questions about the accident but Kyle has had enough. He gets a bit testy and says, “No more! I’m done answering questions about my death. Move ON!” This elicits a smile from his older brother who responds, “Typical Kyle.”

Corey was a flight paramedic but left that job for something emotionally safer after Kyle’s death. He tells me he did it because he wanted to be closer to his parents. Kyle snarls and I relay, “You fucking pussy.” And then to me he vehemently says, “Don’t let him by with his lying bullshit.”

The reality is Corey developed PTSD after Kyle’s accident and he started to doubt his own ability to help others. He also admits he feels dead inside. Kyle, in no uncertain terms, is NOT happy about Corey’s decision to hide and to stop living.

Corey asks Kyle, “What is it I’m supposed to do?!” and Kyle answers, “Follow your passion, what’s in your heart and head, man?” And then I’m shown an image of a premature, tiny baby. I ask Corey about this and he makes a grimacing face and chokingly says he’s afraid of babies.

I continue to see images of him holding wailing, distressed babies and them calming instantly because of his energy. I hear he is maternal and has an innate gift of knowing what needs to be done. He says he has no interest in working with babies. I tell him I may have uncovered a seed for him but it’s up to him to see if it will grow.

Kyle tells me a name, “Shep.” It’s the same name I’ve heard for all three of his family members. I thought it was a dog but Corey tells me there’s a doctor – a PEDIATRIC doctor – he used to work with by that name. Hummmm…

Kyle moves on and teasingly confides in me that he hasn’t forgiven his brother for pushing him off the roof. He admits to totally pranking his older brother by having books tip over, the garage door open and repeatedly knocking on walls. Corey says with a smile, “I KNEW it!” and then good naturedly admits yelling at Kyle to “knock it the fuck off.”

This is brother stuff. Teasing, bugging, irritating and pushing buttons but the comradery and love between these two hasn’t dissipated one ounce because one of them has changed appearances. Kyle compassionately says, “Tell my brother I love him, I respect him and I’m proud of him. Tell him he was the best brother I could have hoped for. Tell him to keep going and to get in the game. Tell him to start living.”

Kyle tells me that there is no anger where he is and so for us to keep housing anger is just bullshit. I’ve been told this by angels, but hearing Kyle say it, in the manner in which he SAID it, makes me smile. Corey admits he is still working through some anger. Kyle then says, “Forgive” and smiles while he jokingly says his name should be, “Friggin’ Kyle Forgiveness.” He then dramatically raises his arms out to his sides and up over his head while theatrically breaking into the song, “Don’t Cry For Me Argentina.” Corey looks incredulous, cracks a smile and says he JUST watched that movie. Of course you did, Corey. Uh huh.

Kyle, now switching gears and becoming very earnest says, “Tell him I love him. Again. Tell him again. It’s important he hears it.”

As I am finishing his brother’s session, Kyle reveals to me why he had to leave this earth. He softly and quietly whispers there was a baby who needed him. He says he always wanted children. My eyes widen and I sense that this baby was worthy of giving his own life for. What I felt was the unfailing and unquestionable love of a parent who unselfishly and unhesitatingly gives their own life for their child’s. Kyle didn’t even question it when he was Called; he just folded his cards and left.

Kyle is clearly just as alive in death as he was in life. He is funny, quick tempered and a prankster. He calls me a “cool chick” and tells me he wants to hang out with me even when his family isn’t around. His energy is big and he easily fills my head, overriding anything or anyone that wants to appear or talk. As Corey said, the party begins when Kyle arrives. Yes, as in life, as in death. Kyle is, again, proof positive that life doesn’t end just because we die.

About 2 weeks after I published this blog, Kyle started telling me to tell Corey, “You’re picking up what I’m LAYING DOWN.” I poo-poo’d Kyle as I don’t like to do my Work outside of session. This morning Kyle had enough of me saying no so I text Corey. Here was Corey’s response:

“Yesterday I had an ambulance call for a baby having a seizure. When I got there, the baby was not breathing and unresponsive. I was able to get the baby back and awake.

When we got to the ER, he was snuggled up in my arms. He didn’t like the nurses and just screamed and screamed when I gave him to them. I then picked him up off the ER bed and he immediately stopped crying and laid in my arms….

Before bed last night I was thinking of that call and it came to me what you said about me calming a crying baby. I called my mom and said, ‘Holy shit! It happened!’ Just unbelievable.”

So now it makes perrrrfect sense why Kyle was being such a Kyle and wanting me to tell his brother exactly that.

Kyle has appeared many times in both his mother and his brother’s sessions. He most recently became very agitated towards his mom for “not moving on” and made no bones about it. He is often in my personal life and I welcome his appearances. If you’d like to read about how he helped me with a personal issue, read “Sober.“

Anxiety

I can’t pinpoint when my anxiety started but I can tell you when I realized something was not right. It was a day in early August when my husband and his employees moved their offices out of our house.

Now you would think that I would be thrilled about that. I mean, we had dreamed of having our house and privacy back for so long. But when I was faced with that reality, something fragile, a tiny thread that was my last connection to logic and rationale, snapped.

The day of the move, we loaded boxes into his pickup. As he backed out of the garage, I felt irrationally frightened. It was as if I was watching the one person who could save me, had been saving me, abandon me. I felt crushed.

When the external garage door closed, my smile faded and my waving hand fell to my side. My face crumpled. My breath caught in my throat and I felt the tears prick and burn my eyes. I took a huge gulp of air and started sobbing. In an effort to find comfort and to try to run away from the problem, I, in the style of my childhood, raced into our bedroom shutting the door on the fly. I threw myself on to our bed, curled up in the fetal position and cried. I was thinking that I should be happy but I clearly was not.

A few months prior to this, I was confronted with a situation that undid months and months of my emotional progress. My husband and I were having an alcohol fueled (tsk, tsk! I know better!) heated discussion about it and I remember saying, “This is too hard. Why does this have to be so fucking hard?! Oh my God! I wish I was dead.”

I want to be crystal clear, dear readers, I was not thinking of suicide as I do not believe in it for spiritual reasons. I also knew I needed to be here and stay healthy for my little girl. The truth is, I just didn’t want to be here anymore, on Earth. If I, say, happened to be in an auto accident, I wouldn’t fight to stay here. The thing is, at that moment, I was in such intense, deep emotional pain and I couldn’t see my way out of it. I just wanted the pain to stop.

Looking back, my outburst was a verbal cry for help. I’m still not sure exactly who the cry was meant to be heard by; me or him. But, in the blink of an eye, the external and internal conversations moved on. Sadly, even that admission wasn’t enough for me to understand how far I had fallen from my true self.

I told one of my besties about my admission and she, professionally trained to look for these signs, questioned me intently about it. I told her what I believed and that was I would NEVER commit suicide. I didn’t believe in it as I knew that I would have to relive every craptastic thing I had gone through in this lifetime again. No. No thank you. Not for all the high-end coffee in Costa Rica. What I didn’t know is that over the next few months my chemical imbalance and emotional health would continue to deteriorate until I barely recognized my emotional self.

40 million adults in the United States have anxiety[i]. One-third get help. That leaves two-thirds, TWO-THIRDS, that don’t.

What I also ignored or attributed to something else was the physical symptoms. My hands would uncontrollably shake, my mouth would be dry, my heart would race. I even went to the doctor thinking I had high blood pressure. My insomnia worsened, I cried alot and I had the most illogical, neurotic thoughts. I found myself being overly impatient and quick to anger, especially with our daughter. I chalked this up to just being stressed or needing a night or two off from being a momma.

One night in late August my husband came home late, very late. It’s nothing new, in fact, it’s quite normal and it shouldn’t have affected me like it did, but that night I was a train wreck. I was neurotic and imagined all sorts of heinous activities on his part. I was convinced he was doing something nefarious or was dead. I called his phone and had my irrational suspicions confirmed when he didn’t answer. I sent a text to him saying that I was frightened. My heart was beating a million miles a minute. I thought it was going to jump out of my chest. A few minutes later he walked through the door.

I raced into his arms, viscerally sobbing in relief. I hugged him like he was my breath. I shook uncontrollably and babbled incoherently through a deluge of tears. He hugged me and said, “Honey. Honey! What is going on? This is not like you. Honey. What is going on?!” I pulled back and relief-sobbed that I had been imagining all sorts of horrible things happening to him and because of him. I told him I was so frightened. He continued to hug me and said this wasn’t like me.

I clung to him in our bed that night like I was his second skin. I needed to talk with him about what I was feeling but when…when? The next morning, after only a few hours (or minutes) of sleep, I completely lost my shit in the shower. I felt completely overwhelmed and paralyzed. My best friend, the one I confided in whole-heartedly, my forever husband, was someone I was now struggling to speak with.

I exited the shower, robotically dried myself off and burst into tears again. I was miserable. I wrapped the towel loosely around myself and walked, zombie-like, into our bedroom. My husband, just clearing the sleep from his eyes, took one look at me and said, “Oh my God. Honey! What’s wrong!?”

My tears broke free and I sobbed while saying, “I don’t know. I think I’m broken. I need help. Something’s wrong with me. I thought I was doing ok, but after last night and this morning, I know I’m not. I’m having horrible thoughts and my neuroticism is not fair to you. I think I’m suffering from PTSD or anxiety. I need help. I’m going to call my midwife about anxiety medicine and try to find a counselor today. I’m a fucking mess.”

Then I cleared the tears from my eyes, wiped the snot from face with the back of my arm and locked my swollen, blood shot, tired eyes on his. The energy surrounding us became palpable. I took a deep breath and said, “I don’t know what I’m capable of. I don’t think I would ever hurt myself but I’m NOT myself right now. I’m just….broken. Can you either hide the guns or the ammunition immediately, please?” He didn’t question me, he just did as I requested.

I scheduled an appointment with my midwife and found a counselor that morning. My midwife started me on an anti-anxiety/anti-depressant. The counselor saw me that week.

I’m a good mix of believing in Eastern and Western medicine. I believe they both have their places in my life. What I was doing with Eastern medicine wasn’t helping so I immediately sought out Western medicine. I also believe that pills are just a band aide and that I have to address the problem, hence the trained counselor. I previously wrote a blog called “Crazy” that spoke of how powerful the mind was and how it can control your body. My physical anxiety symptoms proved that, yet again, to me.

The medication and counseling have had a vastly positive effect on me. I feel “normal” again, like the old chemically balanced me. All thoughts of not wanting to be here have vanished. Everything isn’t oppressive and I’ve even caught myself genuinely belly laughing. The first time that happened I thought, “What was THAT?! How long has it been since I’ve laughed this way?”

Like a broken record, I consider myself one of the lucky ones. Not only did I recognize something had changed in my brain, but I asked for and received help. Have you?

[i] https://www.adaa.org/about-adaa/press-room/facts-statistics

Between

It’s a place that’s not here and it’s not there. It’s a place of nothing and of everything. It’s a place people go when they are not dead but they are not alive. It’s a place I’ve been to only a few times.

This is something that is new to me as I’ve never been particularity comfortable with death. I feared it as a child. I always thought death was going to take my mom and there would be no one to care for me. I was so afraid of it, in fact, that I would often sneak into my mom and dad’s bedroom just to listen to her breathe. I sometimes slept on the floor next to her just to make sure I could keep death away. I won many battles but lost the war in 1999.

When my dad died, I had aged and matured not only physically but spiritually as well. My dad’s death was met with wonder instead of fear. I saw the angel who came for him. I saw my dad standing at the end of his hospital bed, even though he had just taken his last physical breath. My dad appeared before me months later to let me know he had “made it.”

So with my evolution into no longer fearing what I didn’t know, new gifts began to emerge. When I was still in my infancy stage (and I’m not sure I’m out of it), a friend of mine came to me. “Friend” doesn’t quite encapsulate what Eric is to me. He is the most upbeat, positive, quirky enigma I know. He’s difficult to define. He is scientific but has deep roots in spirituality. He was my first Reiki student to become a Reiki Master. His brain is wired to create and to seek out ways to make and do things better. By day he is a computer software geek. By night a cross between Doc. Emmett Brown and Einstein. To say Eric carries a special place in my heart, in a lot of our hearts, is an understatement.

Eric’s body was rejecting his second liver. His body ate through his own years ago and he received a successful transplant. All was going well until his body started to cannibalize this new liver. Eric’s demeanor, even when his eyes and face were yellow with jaundice and his belly was severely distended, was upbeat and positive. He insisted on working right up to the point where he could no longer do so. Sometimes when I saw him, it made me realize my problems were just that; problems. This man was once again fighting for his life and happily doing so.

Prior to his second surgery, Erik and his wife asked something of me that made me somewhat uncomfortable. They asked that I give spiritual feedback of what I was seeing and hearing from Eric when he was no longer able to speak for himself. I said I would, I signed a legal document, but I was sure to state not to look to me if they were looking to pull the plug. I didn’t want that on my shoulders.

Eric’s condition deteriorated. He was admitted to the hospital while awaiting a new liver. He soon lost consciousness. His wife would email me and ask me very physical questions and I would let her know my gift didn’t work that way. I could tell her Eric was comfortable, not in any pain and that he loved her very much.

Hours passed and Eric slipped deeper into unconsciousness. So much so that when a new liver became available, the doctors thought of giving it to another individual as Eric’s vital signs were far from where they needed to be. His wife, not a believer in the spiritual realm but a supporter of her husband’s belief, emailed me. Again, she asked me physical questions and again I told her my gift didn’t work like that. I then set out to tell her what I did see and this I will share with you now.

Eric was far away. Not here, not there. He was in a place much like outer space (I hadn’t seen the movie “Gravity” yet, but now that I have, these visions are very much like being in outer space) but different. More vast, if that’s possible. “Eric!” I internally cried, “Eric! You’ve got to come back. I know you are an explorer and probably loving all the places you’re traveling to, but you’ve got to come back. They’ve found a liver for you and you NEED to get back here.”

His wife emailed me the next day and said a new series of tests showed improvements. But that didn’t last long. His vitals and other test results started plummeting. Eric didn’t want to be here; he had gotten a taste of what was out there and he, ever the explorer/scientist/student, wanted more. I’d be damned if I was going to allow that to happen.

Not really knowing what I should/could do, I went in after him, spiritually speaking, with guns blazing. “ERIC!” I yelled inside my head, “ERIC! WHERE ARE YOU?! ERIC! YOU HAVE TO COME BACK!” No response. No response inside my head or medically. I repeated, “ERIC! I’m not kidding around! There is a liver for you and you’ve GOT to get back to your body or they’ll give it to someone else. ERIC! DO YOU HEAR ME! You’ve GOT to get back here and give the doctors something they can go on. Don’t you DARE leave your wife. The last thing you said to her was that you loved her. GET BACK HERE, DAMNIT! ERIC! Where ARE you?!”

Then I changed tactics a bit and said, “Eric. I know you want to explore. I know you are enjoying all of this, but you need to come back. Before you left, you were clear you wanted to come back. I need you to hear me. We need you to return, RIGHT NOW, Eric. The doctors will give your liver to someone else and you will not return. You will not kiss your wife or pet your dog again. ERIC!! COME. BACK. NOW!!!!! EEEEERRRRRICCCCCCCCCC!!!”

I’m not saying what I did worked, but it was shortly after that Eric’s tests showed promise and he received his new liver. Eric tells me he has memories of where he went and that I “got through” to him.

What I didn’t see for Eric, I did for Michelle and Cindy. Both of these ladies had left their physical body. One was end stage brain cancer and the other was in a medically induced coma. I saw both of them floating in a place that looked like outer space. They both were attached to Earth with an umbilical cord of sorts which looked like a very thin strand of hair. This told me things were not good, not good at all.

Michelle spoke to me and said she wanted her husband to kiss her on her lips once more. She wanted her three boys to tightly hold her hands and feet. She told her mother she loved her and had the utmost respect for her. She said she had no regrets.

I argued with Michelle about telling her husband this. Her husband does not know me and isn’t familiar with my Work. I told Michelle my kind was burned at the stake for this kind of stuff in the past. She was insistent and so I trusted and did as she asked. I sent a text to her husband but I didn’t hear back from him. I wasn’t really expecting to. Part of me is glad he didn’t respond because I couldn’t have handled anything but kindness. Michelle passed away shortly after I relayed her messages.

Cindy is a friend of mine from way back who has never experienced my Work. I received a phone call from one of my besties that Cindy had gone into cardiac arrest and had been in a car accident. She was in a medically induced coma and it didn’t look good. Once my adrenaline evened out and I was able to quit crying, I spiritually looked for her.

I saw her way out in space but connected to Earth by a hair-thin cord. Her back was arched and there was no brain activity. She was just floating. I began to cry once again. I said, “Cindy. Cindy? Can you hear me?” I received no reply.

I laid down for a nap but couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about Cindy. Suddenly, her voice filled my head. She told me she didn’t want to go (die) this way as she hadn’t said goodbye to anyone. In an instant, and in true Cindy form, her energy changed to determination but it was tinged with fear. She said, “Where am I?! I’m frightened.”

I loved that I could hear her. I told her what had happened and she said, “I have to get back for my grand kids.” And get back she did. Within seconds, her energetic body became animated; she snapped into a forward facing position and grabbed the cord connecting her to Earth. Immediately upon doing this, the cord became thicker. It looked like twisted metal cabling which was as thick as my arm.

Cindy, with teeth gritted, began pulling herself back to Earth. Her astral travels were also having effects on her physical body. Her pupils became reactive to light; her brain scan showed promise.

But this rapid return was tiring for her. I watched as the cord grew thicker still and as Cindy paused to take a nap. When she awoke, it was with a new vigor; she was eager to get back to her body. Hand over hand, eyes focused directly on Earth (she never once looked back) and with grunts of exertion, she kept methodically going.

Her physical body was showing signs of this progress, too. She was coming out of her coma before the medical world was ready to have her do so. According to them, she had another full day before they would attempt to bring her out of the deep sleep. Cindy had other ideas. She left the hospital, on her own accord, just two days later.

I hadn’t consciously been thinking about writing this blog until a few days ago. Last night my Guys were insistent that I get ‘r done and in that, I inexplicably trust. For the person or persons who needed this (ahem!), I hope it brings you comfort.

Delete

Since my energetic upgrade a few months ago, I’ve grown very restless with certain things in my life, one of those things being my personal Facebook page. I never have been one to obsessively check FB nor do I care what people are up to that I haven’t associated with in years. I wasn’t one of those who had hundreds of “friends” and I didn’t post my every thought, event or picture. It’s totally cool with me if others do, but I never used social media that way.

Truthfully, the only reason Inner Focus Reiki has a business FB page is because years ago when a friend of mine was helping me get my website up and running, he said I HAD to have a social media presence. I reluctantly gave in and created a business FB page. He questioned me about Twitter and such but I didn’t want anything to do with it (and I still don’t). Social media sort of short circuits me; it feels like being among hordes of last minute Christmas eve mall shoppers.

I’m a very private person and I always have been. It’s how I was raised. I recently realized that my need for additional personal privacy comes at a time when my Work is expanding. The truth is sometimes when people taste my intuitive gifts they want ALL of me. It’s as if I stop being a human and become a commodity. People forget I am also a wife, a mother, a sister, a best friend. They forget I have emotions and that I bleed red when cut. They assume my life is an open book and they are the ravenous, insatiable, greedy readers. I am wholly uncomfortable with that.

I’ve seen how people who publicly use their Intuitive gifts can be idolized, alienated, harassed and even stalked. I don’t want anything to do with that as being a practicing Intuitive is just a fraction of who I am; it does not define me. It’s also one of the reasons I strive to empower my clients as I don’t want people to become dependent upon me or my intuitive knowledge.

My home, my sanctuary, has been a busy work environment for my husband’s work crew for over three years. My sense of space and privacy has been greatly diminished by this. I reached my indignity limit recently when I was in our bedroom, door closed and the cable TV dude walked right in. Didn’t knock, just opened the door and walked right in (our cable box is in the bedroom closet). Uhhhh. HELLO?! What if I had been in my pajamas or (gulp) NOT in my pajamas?!

All of this has led me to feel like I need to declutter and my eyes turned towards my personal FB page. It felt tarnished and of the old. Several acquaintances had left my life and I hadn’t had an honest conversation with – or seen – others in years. There were others whom I stopped wanting to stay in touch with and others who were just ‘Facebook Fabulous’ (Facebook Fake). I no longer wanted that social media connection. It no longer fueled me, on the contrary, it seemed to drain me. I needed to end that chapter and energetically free myself.

Of course I had the “good girl” thoughts of: If I do this, would the deleted parties go all “mean girl” on me? Would the earth still turn? What if….? Then I realized this wasn’t about them, it was about me (“It’s not you, it’s me”). I needed to be true to myself and get over some residual “what will everyone think” thoughts. Once I realized this, reducing my friend list became so much easier.

I have always been one to maintain professional distance with clients for many reasons. Going through my personal Facebook friends, I found there were several clients whom I didn’t know or associate with outside of Work, nor did I care to. That told me something.

With the desire to keep more of my personal life private, it strikes me as odd that I feel led to become more open and slightly less professional (Egads! That thought almost causes me to break out in hives!) on my business Facebook page. If it’s my quirkiness, personality, and well “humanness” you want, well then maybe I should do this more publicly? It sounds so counter-intuitive to sequester more of my personal life in one area but open it up in another, much larger, area.

The energy surrounding this feels of the new and yet sort of uncomfortable. But if you’re used to doing things one way for so long, the new will feel uncomfortable until it becomes, well, comfortable.

Flu

My client had scheduled two Intuitive Reiki sessions back to back; one for her and one for her husband, whom I’d not professionally seen before. Her session began like any other but about two thirds of the way through it, an intensely beautiful archangel popped in.

I originally assumed he was there for my client but it turns out, he was there for me. His visage was breathtaking. I don’t even know how to adequately describe his looks. He was beyond beautiful and my breath caught in my throat.

He was dressed as other archangels have been; no shirt, form fitting black leather-like pants and large black silken wings. His face though, oh my GOD, his face! It was something I could stare at all day long; a thing of great beauty. He had a straight patrician nose, high cheekbones, strong jaw, dark black eyebrows/lashes, riveting sapphire blue eyes and chiseled lips.

His thick, dark black wavy hair fell to his shoulders. His body was lean, powerful and muscular. His left leg was casually bent at the knee and his foot was resting on my wall. His beauty was so intensely stunning, I thought I would cry.

What set him apart from other archangels I’ve seen was his demeanor. He was somewhat impatient like an antsy teenager wanting to leave the company of an adult to be with his friends. His energy was powerful, confident and very, very saucy. This boy oozed animal magnetism and he was fully aware of his charm. Sweet JAYSUS, Lawd ha’ mercy! He was rakishly gorgeous.

I wasn’t expecting an archangel to just pop in during a client’s session. His angelic countenance caused me to take in a sudden whoosh of air and I could feel heat rising to my cheeks; I was blushing. Clearly I was startled and off balance and geez, Louise! a little warning next time?!

But in true Melissa form, I tried to act like I had game instead of a silly little school girl experiencing her first crush on an older man. I was like, “Oh, hey, dude. Hi. What’s up?” To me, I thought I sounded nonchalant, airy and cool but I know my intuitive voice was high pitched, like I’d gotten caught doing something I didn’t want anyone else to know about. In a way I had, because he could hear everything I was thinking. Busted!

He said, “I’m here to give you an energy upgrade. Are you ready?” I indignantly blurbled, “Now?! Psssssh. I’m with a client!” I was trying to buy myself some time to think. He didn’t respond but continued to gaze at me (gulp) so I stuttered, “Well, uhh, sure, I guess.” And then I found my strong and steady voice, “As long as it doesn’t negatively affect me or my client. I have another client after her and I have to be able to function. I’m going to trust that this energy is going to help both of them as well as me.”

He smiled again (oh dear GOD, why, WHY did he do that?!) and telepathically assured me this would be gentle. I looked forward again as if thinking about this (I wasn’t, I was just buying some time again) and then nodded my internal head. His perfect 7 foot frame was instantly standing behind me. He placed his large hands on my shoulders and I physically broke out in goose bumps.

Within seconds I heard, “You’ll feel pressure in your head” and before that sentence was fully finished, I felt pressure in my head, like a vice grip. I physically shook my head trying to clear the pressure but it didn’t help. I heard, “It’ll pass” and sure enough, within seconds the pressure eased as did the shivers. The whole upgrade was finished in about three minutes but I must say I wasn’t paying attention to the time. I was focusing on my client making sure she was OK with this new energy and she seemed to be resting peacefully.

The archangel didn’t stay around once his part was completed. I felt his hands lift off my shoulders and then he was gone. Well, gee. Was it good for you? Can I call you in the morning? Humph. Cad. Rake. Rapscallion!

My client’s session ended and her husband’s began. His session was different from the get go. I couldn’t keep my energetic eyes off of him. I had never seen a person that energetically beautiful before. His aura/energy captivated me and I felt drawn in; I wanted to know all about him. I giggled and told him just that. He, being older and very modest, said he didn’t know what he did to deserve this admiration.

When we went into session, my hands remained cold. Usually my hands are heating pad hot but I trusted that this was exactly what he needed. As our session went on, my hands felt like they were getting even colder. I started shivering and my head had that weird vice grippy thing going on. I turned up the room’s heat. My client was very warm to the touch but I was ice cold. What the hell?

His session ended and I told him this was the first time my hands remained ice cold during a treatment. He asked what that meant and I said it was neither here nor there, just an observation on my part as that had never happened in all the years I had used Reiki.

I went home that evening with off and on chills. The next day I awoke feeling like there was a fire in my upper chest and my head was being squished by a vice. I raised my eyes to the heavens and said, “If this is gentle, you Guys can kiss my ass!” By the end of the day my skin hurt, my hair hurt, even my toenails hurt and I was super cranky. I internally said, with much less venom this time as it almost hurt to think, “You Guys! You said this would be gentle. This is NOT gentle. HELP ME!”

It was about then that I drug my carcass from the bed and looked up my symptoms. Was it possible I had the upper respiratory flu? Or WAS this the energy upgrade? I didn’t know and I didn’t hear an answer when I asked but I knew there were no coincidences.

One thing is for sure, I won’t play with fire next year. It’s either the flu shot or if a devilishly handsome archangel shows up wanting to upgrade my energy with promises that it will be gentle, I’ll check for horns and a tail.

Wounds

For so many of us lately, myself included, it feels as if old emotional wounds are being ripped opened and re-exposed. These are wounds we thought we had dealt with and healed. We are, quite frankly, pissed off as all hell about this.

I recently intuited some information about a client’s long dead father and her very much alive best friend. I said, “It looks like old wounds are coming up for you that need to be healed. It’s all coming around for you again. Your bestie is treating you the way your father did.” My client blinked her beautifully wise blue eyes and she said she thought she had dealt with this painful emotional issue.

She then said something so profound that I felt as if I was the student instead of the teacher. Truth be told, this often happens when I work on her. She drew in a breath and said what she had previously dealt with was the back end of her father’s abuse; she hadn’t dealt with it while it was going on. Now, she said, she’s been given the opportunity to deal with the front end of this abuse thanks to her life-long best friend.

Well, what the hell (head scratch). She’s completely right, you know.

I thought I was through with the emotional/psychological abuse I suffered at the mouth of my starter husband. I thought I had worked through the pain of the passive-aggressive and emotional abuse from my family. I thought I had healed the reoccurring betrayal and abandonment issues that seem to weave themselves throughout my life. I thought. I thought. I thought. Turns out, I thought (mostly) wrong.

Based on previous blogs, it’s no secret I firmly believe people enter our lives to help teach us lessons. Some of those lessons can drop us to our knees while others barely cause us to break a sweat. Some of the most powerful lessons we learn are from our parents, our siblings, our children, our spouses and our besties. Those that are closest to us know us the best and they also know our triggers and how to push them. It only makes sense that our families would try to teach us some of the most transformational lessons.

It’s also no secret that I long ago let go of hating someone for the pain they’ve caused me. I just look at things differently now. Hating someone who ultimately tried to help me heal/grow and may have done so at my implicit request, serves no purpose. It’s like hating your stomach for making you fat.

Most of the time I understand the people who cause us pain are here to help us heal and grow but in the effort of full disclosure, I DO hate someone. I hate this person mainly because of how internally ugly they are and the pain this person has consciously and calculatedly inflicted on someone I love. I can’t shake the disgust and repulsion I feel for this small-minded individual.

Sometimes, when I’m in a more spiritual place, I feel sorry for this person and their tiny self-constructed and limited world. At times I remember that this individual is in a ton of pain and has chosen not to heal. They have chosen to lash out because they want attention, good or bad. They are seeking to hurt a certain person because they feel this person is responsible for their pain and thereby owed it. They misguidedly seek to lessen their own internal pain. This lucid and spiritual way of seeing things calms me and helps me see clearly, but with this particular person, that doesn’t last long.

The reality is this person is trying to teach this someone something but they are triggering the momma badger in me and I want to rip them apart in the form of politically correct, but well directed, words. The reason I don’t is it’s not my fight; it’s not my battle. They are not here to teach me something, at least not directly. I’m just a bi-product; a civilian casualty. While I retain the ability to hate, I will not be mean. I will not yell, belittle, debase or verbally/emotionally abuse anyone. Not anymore. I do not and will not do this no matter how much a person gets my goat.

I was raised by a family who were masters at trying to control others by using these tactics. I know all about the intimidating, threatening, screaming-at-the-top-of-your-lungs-until-veins-pop-out-of-your-neck yelling. I am NOT that person anymore. Yelling has no place in my life. Yelling is just an attempt to be threatening and to try to intimidate another. Once you’re on to this, yelling is almost a laughable offense. Truth be told, you can stop a red-faced, eyes-bulging yeller with just a whisper and a steady gaze. This is a trick I learned from my girl Charmaine and then refined with the help of Jemma from Sons of Anarchy.

Back to my point; people are here to help teach us lessons. If we can believe and trust in that, then everything, every shitty little thing that happens in our life is aimed at helping us heal and grow. Why would we hate someone, yell at them or speak horribly about them, if their sole (soul) purpose was to help us heal? It sounds silly, right? And if we are all connected (we are), then hating them is to hate a part of you.

Susie uses the concept of mirroring. What you dislike/like in them is what you dislike/like in you. Let’s go back to this bitter and abusive person for a moment. What are they triggering in me that I need to heal? I, obviously, am having a very strong reaction to their tactics so I may need to examine what I thought I had healed.

If I choose to do this, I may be able to deal with – and heal – these strong emotions at the beginning of their cycle, thereby healing the entire wound. Maybe I can take a page out of Susie’s book. When life has handed her a giant load of crapsicles it would be easy for her to choose hate and yet she remains neutral and softly says, “I choose love.”

Colonoscopy

The first time I remember hearing about a colonoscopy was when Katie Couric’s husband died from colon cancer. Katie was so passionate about getting everyone tested she, herself, televised a portion of her procedure (or something like that. That was several thousand lost brain cells ago).

When you’re young (or even young’ish) you think 50 is a lifetime away. The reality is it creeps up on you while you’re busy buying dental floss and flipping pancakes. Before you know it, you’re buying Miralax and a beverage that you used to enjoy, but will now never be able to tolerate again.

Yes. Yes. It is my turn for the preventive colonoscopy and I’d like to share with you some of my thoughts on the prep work. First of all, you get the same set of instructions regardless if you are a 5’ 6” 138 pound female or a 6’ 6” 350 pound man. It doesn’t matter if you are Vegan, Vegetarian or a dyed-in-the-wool Carnivore; you get the same prep work instructions.

I decided to go rogue and buy coconut water instead of Gatorade. I, being a sometime sugar snob, didn’t want all the sugar that Gatorade contained contaminating my detoxing colon. Needless to say, I never think like this when there’s expensive chocolate or a fabulous Cabernet within my grasp. Oh noooooo! Then I wholly justify it.

I did check with the GI nurse to ensure this substitution was ok. Oh, dear Lord, how I wish she would have said no. I have effectively killed my love for coconut water in one fell swoop. What the hell was I thinking?! And to make matters worse, I use coconut oil for almost everything and I almost puked when I slathered it on my hands last night. The smell! The memories! Gahhhhhhh!

So for you readers who like my writing a little uncensored, this blog is for you. Here are a few things I’d like to pass along about colonoscopy prep.

When you know you can’t have something, like ohhhh food or water (you know, the essentials of life), you’ll crave it like CRAZY! It will consume your thoughts and you will become a food/water junky whore. Think I’m kidding?! I found myself smelling my husband and daughter’s breath after they returned home from eating out. I was like a determined dog sniffing out a drug. In fact, on the pretense of kissing my husband, I shoved my flared nostrils right to his mouth. The black heart ate at Mexican Village!! (Whimper) That’s one of my favorite places.

And my daughter? I was all wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing with her. I purred, “Come and sit by me, honey. No, closer. CLOSERRRRRRRR. Ooohh yes, that’s it my darling” as my eagle-like eyes scanned her face for any bit of food.

However, just a few hours later, my tune changed. I was very THANKFUL I did not eat or drink anything as I was doubled over from gut-ripping shit cramps. Dude, I’ve birthed a kid and this does not compare. I was thinking to myself I must have somehow become a host for an alien who is all teeth and claws. This alien is in a bitch of a mood and wants to claw its way OUT of my intestines NOW!

And then this happened. I inevitably choose a bathroom, in a most DIRE moment, where my husband or daughter used all the toilet paper leaving me with nothing. Not even the cardboard roll. If that doesn’t make your eyes widen in fear, I don’t know what will. Of COURSE both of them were sleeping by this time so I was on my own.

Before I could fully address this issue, I was, once again, projectiley exploding more pee-pooh from a place that wasn’t really designed to do that. When that passed I, slumped shouldered and possibly sweaty brow, thanked God for the reprieve knowing it would be short.

I will not describe what I had to do in order to get more toilet paper, but suffice it to say, it involved swear words.

While I was waiting for the next pee-pooh wave, I tried to pacify myself by thinking, “I’m so glad I’m a vegetarian. Those carnivores must have it MUCH tougher.” This became my mantra and I clung to it. I found myself breaking into a snarling smile just hoping someone had it worse than me. I delighted in this thought.

Then, somehow, as the alien was becoming quieter and I could go for more than 2 minutes without using the toidy, I came to understand that having something enter an “exit only” hole no longer seemed traumatic. In fact, it felt like a walk in the park compared to the prep work. I found internal peace at that moment.

This is where my story must end as I am almost ready to make the trip to the hospital. I am looking forward to the blissful unknown that comes with anesthesia and a return to normal bodily functions.

Liminal

The tears started almost as soon as I turned my head away from her. She was a West Fargo bus driver that was going above and beyond. She had stopped her bus in the middle of an unplowed street. I thought this was odd, but given the recent snow and slick roads, I thought she must have stopped where she did as she had slid through the stop sign. I was wrong.

She unfolded the buses “STOP” sign and opened the doors. I assumed there was an older child getting off of the bus. I turned my head back to concentrate on the slippery walking path and kept moving. I then heard her say, in a confident, happy, sing-song voice, “There you go!”

As I swiveled my head, I saw her bent over the littlest of little ones. He was so tiny his hat and jacket seemed to engulf him. She was standing closely behind him. Her hands were gently upon his back, encouraging him, guiding him, supporting him. She was helping him cross the rough, unplowed street. The energy of this simple, courteous, kind act along with the beauty surrounding the protective safeguarding of this tiny little sprout was wondrous.

The physical scene playing out before my eyes caused me to smile. I turned my head forward once again and continued on my walk. I was thinking how amazing it was that I was able to witness this kindness, this glimpse of humanity. But before I had fully taken two steps, I was overcome with emotional pain and my smile faded. I began sobbing in an unstoppable, cathartic kind of way.

LIMINAL:

of or relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process.
occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.

I had never heard this word prior to Monday. Susie said it about me during our recent Reiki session. To put it in laymen’s terms, think of “liminal” as the point where you have exhaled but have not yet begun to inhale or when something ends and something else has yet to begin. Liminal.

She intuited that I had sustained a “big hit.” That “hit” was received directly in my emotional heart and it brought me to my knees. I felt raw, exposed, and vulnerable. I was in shock. I had to draw on every bit of emotional healing and spiritual growth I had done over the years just to avoid becoming irrevocably broken.

I cancelled my yoga session for today. I didn’t really know why; I didn’t have a good explanation for Andrea other than I needed to cancel. This started a series of events. My beloved husband asked me if I was going to be out and about today. I told him no. He mentioned he wanted to check out his land and take pictures. I brushed it off and said I was comfy in my pajamas.

A few minutes later I looked up from cyber-land and glanced out the window. The snow had stopped and the wind was calm. I decided to put on my boots and go for a walk. Walking has always been my choice of mental elixirs and cardio.

I was returning from said walk when the school bus slid to a halt and the scenario began to play out. I found myself thinking that in a world that seems to have gone bat shit crazy for so many of us, there is still hope for mankind. There is still beauty to be seen. There are still random acts of kindness to be witnessed.

This…THIS was the true reason I was led to cancel my yoga session. I know it. I feel it. A little healing energy/love wrapped up as a bus driver and a littlie. THIS is why the succession of the other non-coincidental events unfolded the way they did. THIS was my liminal, my suspended breath. It’s over now. I’m breathing again and I am looking forward to the something new that is beginning.

NOTE: What emotionally took place isn’t for you to know, at least not now. Someday, I may write about it but for now, I choose to keep it private. Please respect this. I will not answer questions and I do not have it in me to respond to your individual well-wishing, encouraging emails, texts, FB posts and phone messages. If you’d like to send me love spiritually, I’d welcome that. Know that I’ll thank you spiritually, too.

Sunshine

I am a self-described sun-safety girl. I wear sunscreen, a hat and avoid the mid-day sun like a mole. If I do need to be outside, I seek shade.

Imagine my surprise when I recently (medically) tested TOXIC for Vitamin D. Oh yes! I can almost see your jaw dropping to the ground. After all, what North Dakotan is EVER toxic for Vitamin D? Well, me, evidently. Sun-Safety Girl.

I had orally taken 3000 i.u of a Vitamin D 3 supplement throughout the bleak North Dakota winters for several years. (I thought I was only taking 2000 but I didn’t account for the 1000 in my multi-vitamin.) I had always ended the additional supplementation during the summer months but this year was different. I was experiencing a lot of symptoms that led me to believe I was deficient in Vitamin D. When I had previously (last year) visited with my doctor she said she had quit testing for Vitamin D deficiency as everyone seemed to be deficient.

By July, I had been experiencing overwhelming lethargy for several weeks. I’m not just talking about being tired, I’m talking I couldn’t function. By early to mid-afternoon on most days, I was a zombie. If I was able to nap, I fell asleep within minutes. If I wasn’t able to nap, I could barely get my eyes to focus. I’m not exaggerating, this was very real.

It was a blessing and a curse to be so busy with Reiki energy/clients. I would feel amazing while I was working with them, but once my workday was finished, or sometimes even in-between clients, I wanted to collapse. Several times I worried I would fall asleep in the car, while driving home. THAT is the crushing tiredness I felt.

My body seemed to be constantly hot, too. I’m not talking about hormonal flushing/flashing, either. I’m talking about a constant internal thermometer that was several degrees higher than the norm. Sleeping was incredibly difficult as, I imagine, my body felt like it had continual internal sunburn.

The days where I would get some sunshine were worse. It seemed to intensify the negative effects. I would find myself mumbling to my husband at 6:30, “I have to go to bed. Now.” This didn’t happen often as I felt like I had to power through my tiredness. Of COURSE I did, right moms?

My brain was having issues, too. Foggy thinking, memory problems and impatience were common. My body had lower abdominal pain, muscle weakness, ringing in my ears, bloating and joint pain.

I couldn’t know that my body was feeling as if it had just spent all day in the summer sun, at the lake, in the water and without sunscreen. I just thought it was more menopause fun and games. After all, the symptoms are very similar.

Finally, at the end of August, I couldn’t take it anymore. I knew something was seriously wrong when I was thinking thoughts that were very unlike me. I emailed my doctor and said, “I know I’m deficient in Vitamin D, I just don’t know how much. Can you test me, please?” So she did. She not only tested me for Vitamin D but for thyroid, parathyroid, iron, ferritin, B-12, etc.

As a side note, during this time Susie and I would work (Reiki) on each other and Sus kept seeing lots of red, orange, yellow and a smidgen of blue and white colors being absorbed into my body. She kept saying I was assimilating the sun; I was becoming sunshine. I was also experiencing “solar flares” (yes, just like the physical sun) which caused my body to run hotter at times. She saw a sun-like orb being absorbed into my solar plexus area.

Once I received my test results, I immediately stopped all forms of Vitamin D. Well, sort of. I still took my fish oil and ate copious amounts of organic eggs. I didn’t know, until writing this blog, that eggs and some fish oils contain Vita D. (Head slap) Good Christ. How much Vitamin D was I REALLY getting?!

Within two days of being off most forms of Vita D, I remember thinking, “Oh my God. I have patience (with my daughter) and I’m actually smiling and enjoying playing with her again instead of wishing I could go to bed. How long has it been like this?!”

It’s been a month now since I’ve severely reduced my consumption of Vitamin D and I am significantly less fatigued. I am sleeping better and my body seems to be several degrees cooler at night. My brain fog has lifted slightly and my joints no longer ache. I seem to be able to make it through my client load without crumpling.

I’m by no means feeling like a spring chicken. I AM dealing with hormones (egads, that’s almost more scary than being Vitamin D toxic!), but I am much, much better. When a gal in my gym class recently said, “You’re just like sunshine!” I smiled but muttered inside my head, “If you only knew the half of it, sistah. If you only knew.”

Mahalum

She’s been coming to see, off and on, for years. She is an artist, a painter, a writer, a photographer. She earns her living by marketing for a local non-profit. Our Intuitive Reiki sessions are often filled with whimsical colors that she often incorporates into her art.

I love our sessions; she is never demanding and always respectful. She is understanding of my limits and accepts that I don’t have all the answers. She recognizes the worth of Reiki and she delights in my “humanness.” Our sessions have been nothing short of reverent.

She is, thankfully, the poster child for the norm in my Intuitive Reiki business. I’m writing about her, specifically, because of something that caused my jaw to drop to the floor. I could be writing about any of my clients as I’ve had these moments before. But this one? This one left me shaken in a crikey, Scoob! kind of way.

When she entered my office she said she felt like a bird in a cage. She wanted some direction as to what she should do next. As she was telling me this I heard the word, “book” so when she finished I told her just that. Her hazel eyes misted over, she smiled and her hand went to her upper chest. She said she SO wants to write a book. I tilted my head and smiled a little “well, there you go” smile.

Our session began like any other. As is often the case, the Guys love to pepper her sessions with some inanity. They recently told her not to walk away from an impulse buy or she would regret it. They tell her she’s taking life to seriously; she needs more laughter. They tell her to urge her daughter to reconsider how she’s wearing her hair in her wedding. Yes, seriously.

I chuckle at this stuff, but it’s no secret my angels deal with the spiritual so each one of these seemingly trivial things is designed for my client to grow/heal spiritually. My client gets that and doesn’t dismiss these lighter toned messages.

The energy changed to all business when I quit channeling and began delivering pure Reiki to the top of her head. I heard that this session wasn’t going to be as relaxing as her previous sessions; it would be more intense. I relayed this information to her and as is her usual, she accepted it with grace.

It’s not often anymore that I’m led to telepathically infuse the Reiki symbols during a session but this time I was. Sort of. I began with the first two symbols you learn in Reiki II and then I heard, “Mahalum.” Whaaa? That’s not a Reiki symbol. What is THAT? Mahalo? Mahalum? I shrugged my shoulders, mentally cleared my mind and tried again. I repeated the two accepted healing symbols and when it was time for me intone the sequential third, I once again heard, “Mahalum.”

Well, what the WHAT?! Mahalum? What IS that? I had no idea but went with it. As is the standard, I repeated the name of the two symbols again and then “Mahalum” was again inserted. I thought it was just so odd as you don’t muck with the Reiki symbols. Ever. I have great respect for these symbols as they are powerful little things. To just throw a “Mahalum” in there floored me.

After her session ended, I looked up Mahalum in my trusty 1986 dictionary. Hummm… Mahalum. Nope, nothing and that’s normally where I’d leave it. But something was “encouraging” me to look further. I typed, “Mahalum” into my search engine and nothing came up in the drop down box.

I left it at that and talked some more with my client but it was still bugging me. My client said it would come up for her somewhere in some unexpected way. She was fine with that but I picked up my phone again and entered, “Mahalum” and this time I pressed the magnifying glass (search) button and don’t you know, low and behold, there was information on this word. It was in Hindi so I had it translated to English and my eyes, which have spiritually seen so much, become as large as the eyes of an owl.

My jaw hit the floor. I looked at her and then back to the google search results. I read the answer again and then I looked up at her slightly shaking my head in disbelief. I managed to stammer a very unprofessional, “Holy SHIT! You are NOT going to believe this!” before my mouth fell open again. I was having so much trouble coming to grips with what I was reading.

While I was getting my freak out on, she calmly sat leaning forward in her chair and didn’t say a word. She knew I’d get there eventually and no worry crossed her face. She patiently gazed at me as she had a hundred times.

I stammered again, “You, uhhh, you are NOT going to believe this. Ok. Ok” as if I was talking myself into doing something. Yes, that was how astounded I was at what I was reading and how deeply my intuitive abilities sometimes flat out flabbergast me. I looked at her, took a deep breath and said, “Mahalum is Hindi for “to write.”