Sometimes I catch myself whining inside my head…ever do that? This whining lives in my brain in a space between where I am and where I want to be. My fierce determination to achieve my goals sometimes causes me to I live in that between space called “where I am not”, whether it be that house I want; that book I want published; or how I’m not giving my daughter more space to express her feelings. The list can go on and on. Even as I think I’m pointing myself to a greener pasture, I’m creating a bigger island called “What and Where I’m Not.”
My brother, Tom, has a sort of dance and bob he does with his head that just makes you feel like joining in with “Oh yeah”, in that deeply self-satisfied way. Perhaps much less often than my brother, I feel like that too. That’s the land of “I am here, I am happy- oh yeah!” I’ve thought about what it would take to live in that world instead of the “What I’m not”world and realized I was wanting to be like Tom, which made me compare and think “That’s where I’m not.” Oh brother!
Appreciative Inquiry (AI) http://www.appreciativeinquiry.case.edu/ is a wonderful methodology and philosophy I learned a while ago that says that if we can find the places where we have been successful in the past, then tell ourselves or others those stories - rich in detail of how it felt - that we can then face challenges and goals from a position of strength. It’s like telling our unconscious mind that what is in front of us is another opportunity to succeed with the same confidence as we had when we did it before. It’s called “The Discipline of Positive Change”. Isn’t that a great moniker?
So today I’m asking myself: how did I ever find a house as wonderful as the one I live in now? What was the process that made writing my magnificent 120 page dissertation work so well? How did I contribute to my daughter’s laughter and joy today? And how am I - oh yeah! - so satisfied with myself today?
Time to appreciate and inquire about the best of What Is.
Susan knows what work she wants to do that is in alignment with her heart and purpose. And she wants to be faithful to it. However, Sue’s finances are dwindling and she doesn’t know how she can manifest her dreams. She is tired, worried and anxious about doing the right thing. Is this a test of her willingness to stay faithful to her mission?
Should she borrow money and continue down the “nobler” path, or “cave” and make money doing something she knows isn’t her long term “mission”. In my Reading with Susan, I saw a “past life”/story where she talked a Bishop in the Church into letting her carve stories in relief sculpture inside a Cathedral instead of outside. As she looked up at the spires of the Cathedral, it all seemed very grand – representing to her a God for the upper echelon of folks who could reach that high in life. She was concerned for the common worshipper who might want to see themselves represented in a story that touched their hearts in a simpler way.
Susan was now asking whether she had to keep “aspiring” to her grand call, or whether it was OK to do some common work and feel more “relieved”, grounded and financially supported before attending to the work she felt called to.
I told Susan there was a place for her to work and earn money that was close to her talents but not what she wanted for the long term. She asked me to look at specific opportunities she had considered and even whether they ought to be full time, part time or per diem. The path became clear as Sue said she resonated with what I Read about a particular opportunity.
The most important learning from this was that Spirit is a companion of the heart, not the “shoulds” of our mind. Spirit honors our timing. In this human journey, there are insights and learning to be gained by the brief exchange of a smile at a difficult time or an act of kindness like not shouting back at a driver who is angry about how you drive, as there are when you are feeling “in the flow” of doing the exact work you feel called to do in the world.
We are learning about all aspects of love in our lifetimes- and our career is not the only one, nor often, the most important. At a time when many of us have the opportunity to rethink and reshape our work so it aligns more with our heart, we must also remember to be patient with ourselves –and remember that every day and in every moment that we choose to be mindful, we are doing our work and fulfilling our mission.
Having a four year old is like being given the gift of a Light that never goes off - even in the middle of the night. Four year olds also offer the opportunity to be in touch with viral contacts that are not web-based nor healthful.
I felt like a good Mom this weekend. On Friday, Ana got uncharacteristically clingy, which is the first sign that her health is going south. I rearranged my workday and kept her home from school to keep an eye on her. I took her to the doctor, who prescribed some medication, which I picked up at the Pharmacy. Ana developed a fever and I stayed up with her all night. The next morning, with the little energy either of us had left, Ana helped me in her own way to change sheets and pillowcases as we tried to disinfect the house.
At 4pm, it felt like someone struck me with a hard blow and I had to lay down. I was simply and suddenly unable to function. At one point, I would have been attending to Ana, taking her temperature and applying the appropriate medication, but I was in the bathroom, giving over the contents of my stomach. From my position on the floor of the bathroom, I could see Ana’s little face and big round, scared eyes peering at me from beneath the bedcovers. I wanted to tell that I’d be right there and that everything was fine, but words were not what was forthcoming.
While I felt entirely helpless, I thought of how much more helpless my little girl was - the girl who tells me at least once a week that she can take care of herself and asks how old she has to be to have her own house. I try not to take that personally. And at that moment, I imagined how frightening it would be if I saw my strong, capable Mother, completely incapacitated. She might be worried about who would take care of her if Mom can’t.
When I finally rolled back into bed, I talked to Ana about how Mom was only sick for a while and that I would be strong again soon and take better care of her. Then I thought of all the single mothers (or fathers) out there, who have one or more children, no relatives close by, and who struggle with this same situation. I thought about Mothers who are sick a lot - who can’t say that it will be just a little while until they are well - and want to take care of their children, but simply cannot.
At that moment, I imagined all the Mothers around the world who felt helpless to take care of their children in a circle of Light. I asked the Spirit of Light to come into each Mother’s heart and to bring them strength, courage, and self-compassion.
Then I thought that the next time I got to know a single Mom, I would ask if I could help or if I might even be that person on her speed dial in case of emergency.
Isn’t it amazing that a little, tiny four year old can be the instigator of global awarenss and prayer?
When Dr. Oz asked me on his radio show what the connection was between past lives and current work life, I told him a story about one of my clients who is the senior leader of a mid-sized company.
The information I had about this woman besides her work was: her name; her feeling that she had recently started to like her work less; and that sometimes she felt uncharacteristically tired. She wanted to know what was behind her feelings.
After I closed my eyes and heard her say her full name, I immediately saw a symbol of a very large, firm stick, which had been planted there a long time. This stick was accompanied by a sense of determination and discipline. A vaguer image around the stick was a file cabinet, neatly marked, and infinitely efficient. There were hard edged objects precisely placed, and I noted no sense of softness or even flexibility. Everything in her seemed “fixed.”
It was apparent that she defined herself by her ability to fix almost anything and/or anyone by focus, force, discipline and determination. As I brushed aside this image, I immediately felt a sense of exhaustion. The next thing that appeared was an image of Quan Yin, who is called the female version of the Buddha and represents the heart of compassion. I hesitated a moment, not knowing if this woman was Christian and might be offended by what I was about to say, but I plunged in anyway, committed to being honest about what I saw.
“You are very hard on yourself,” I said. “It is a strategy you have used to earn love and to survive when there was no one to help you. You have perfected this strategy and used it to excel in your field. Now, however, you are being invited onto a kinder path – where the challenge is to befriend and find compassion for yourself. Quan Yin is present with you (I explained who she is). You had another life with her where you were tending her garden – devoted to her. (this story unfolded as Quan Yin’s image lit up) She has returned to you with blessings, wanting to help and guide you toward self-compassion, which will result in more satisfying relationships at work and even change the way you prioritize and focus on work. In addition you will feel less exhaustion when you stop funding this strategy of earning the love you already possess – and that possesses you. I facilitated some energetic shifts that resulted in Sandra saying she suddenly felt calmer. Then she said something quite curious:
“I have a two foot, jade statue of Quan Yin in my garden and I never knew why I was so attracted to her. I never knew anything about her until now. I was just drawn to buy the statue and put her in my garden.”
So, Dr. Oz, that’s one thing that other lifetimes have to do with current work life!
One day last week Ana Joy, my almost five year old, asked, “Mom, do angels ever become people?” Based on my experience with having met some Angels in ny Intuitive work over the years, I replied: ”Most stay Angels, Ana, but some decide to put clothes on and become human beings.” She paused and then said, “I know someone who did that.” “Really!” I responded, “Who?” She said “Me.”
Underneath our clothes, inside our skin, who we are is a mystery. I have the privelege of looking into the hearts of clients and what I see is often not apparent in my first conversations with them. Some people feel like saints to me as I get to know them, and then I look intuitively and find that they are quite lonely or depressed inside. Others seem to have little to offer or say, and when I look inside, I see a brilliant light or an extraordinary gift. What is in common in all the Readings I’ve done over the years is that whenever I describe what I see, the client most often grins or nods in a kind of private way that says “I know, but I don’t say.” Clients often respond with some amazement -sometimes about the information they receive that matches their own experience so closely. More often, however, I think it is the miracle that someone sees, acknowledges, and Knows them - recongizes them to their very core - that touches them deeply.
How often have you felt Known? In a world where we have the luxury of waiting in long lines for $4 coffee at any time during the day, we still fail to find truly receive each other. What would it be like if we had the intention to receive everyone we encountered in a day? When I say “receive” I mean that we intend to open up to hear and see the gift that this unique individual is to us and perhaps to others. This is, I believe, in imitation of our Creator, Who I suspect is fascinated with us - with what we choose to do with the gifts we’ve been given and the relationships around us. This Creator can be experienced by some of us as very personal - One who cares as much about helping us find our misplaced keys or our lost purse, as how we are coping with dying loved ones. This Creator must receive us as fully as S/He accepts us. What would like be like if we cared just that much about each other…
When Dr. Oz asked me on his radio show what the connection was between past lives and current work life, I told him a story about one of my clients who is the senior leader of a mid-sized company. I knew the woman’s name, her feeling that she had recently started to like her work less, and that sometimes she felt uncharacteristically tired. She wanted to know what was behind her feelings.
After I closed my eyes and heard her say her full name, I immediately saw a symbol of a very large, firm stick, which had been planted there a long time. This stick was accompanied by a sense of determination and discipline. A vaguer image around the stick was a file cabinet, neatly marked, and infinitely efficient. There were hard edged objects precisely placed, and I noted no sense of softness or even flexibility. Everything in her seemed “fixed.”
It was apparent that she defined herself by her ability to fix almost anything and/or anyone by focus, force, discipline and determination. As I brushed aside this image, I immediately felt a sense of exhaustion. The next thing that appeared was an image of Quan Yin, who is called the female version of the Buddha and represents the heart of compassion. I hesitated a moment, not knowing if this woman was Christian and might be offended by what I was about to say, but I plunged in anyway, committed to being honest about what I saw.
“You are very hard on yourself,” I said. “It is a strategy you have used to earn love and to survive when there was no one to help you. You have perfected this strategy and used it to excel in your field. Now, however, you are being invited onto a kinder path – where the challenge is to befriend and find compassion for yourself. Quan Yin is present with you (I explained who she is). You had another life with her where you were tending her garden – devoted to her. (this story unfolded as Quan Yin’s image lit up) She has returned to you with blessings, wanting to help and guide you toward self-compassion, which will result in more satisfying relationships at work and even change the way you prioritize and focus on work. In addition you will feel less exhaustion when you stop funding this strategy of earning the love you already possess – and that possesses you. I facilitated some energetic shifts that resulted in Sandra saying she suddenly felt calmer. Then she said something quite curious:
“I have a two foot, jade statue of Quan Yin in my garden and I never knew why I was so attracted to her. I never knew anything about her until now. I was just drawn to buy the statue and put her in my garden.”
So, Dr. Oz, that’s one thing that other lifetimes have to do with current work life!
When the call came in, I was toweling off the water from both the shower I’d just taken as well as the lingering after-effects of a 90 minute Bikram Yoga class, where yoga poses are done in 108 degree heat. Clumsily trying to push the “accept” button on my softly buzzing Treo, I heard a voice and knew immediately it was a teacher at my daughter’s school. After I heard: “there’s been an accident”, I think I went into shock. I suspect this because all I heard afterward were select phrases: “head injury”… “eyes rolling back in her head”… “ambulance”…”hospital”.
I always wondered how I would react when an emergency arose for my own child. Having ten siblings, broken bones and bruises were as attention grabbing as yesterday’s news. With all that experience as an observant elder sibling behind me, I imagined myself calm, cool and able to see the situation from a symbolic and spiritual perspective.
So when I got in my car and started sobbing and screaming “my baby, my baby!!!”, I realized that old saying is true: “No matter how old your child is (Ana has newly turned four) she will always be your baby.” I also remembered that no matter how much training you get in life, you don’t know what will happen until you get there. That’s how it was when Dad died too. Prostate cancer slowly morphing to his bone, Dad had a very long season of death preparation. I said my good-byes. I grieved before he breathed his last. I was fully prepared…until he died. Then I cried like a baby for my daddy. Sheesh! Losing a parent is like joining a club to which you definitely don’t want to be a member. It turns out, so is the first emergency room visit for your child.
As I flew around the corner toward the emergency room, it looked like someone put a bullet hole in the side of my baby’s head where blood continued to leak even after it had been properly mopped. I didn’t know we that much skin on top of our bones. In her usual Aries fashion, Ana had been racing with her friends at school, proving she was the fastest, when she tripped and her head crashed into the window sill.
I reached out and pulled Ana into my arms, and held her tightly as she cried. Then she said, “Mommy, is the doctor going to come and put my head back together?” “Yes, Sweetie, they will put your head back together” I replied as I sat down from the dizziness that accompanied that thought. After I calmed down, I talked Ana though each step of what would happen. Then I said, “Dr. Ana, I just fell and hit my head and it split open. Will you fix it for me?” Dr. Ana got to work on me so that when the doctor finally did arrive, there were no tears as they superglued her head back together.
“So who cried more,” the nurse finally inquired, “mommy or child?” “Definitely mommy,” I replied arrogantly, thinking that no matter how terrible Ana cried in the ambulance, it couldn’t have rivaled my anguish on her behalf and mine. Then the nurse said to me, “Don’t worry. This is only the beginning. You have another 15 years of this.” I sighed loudly.
I learned a lot about myself in this new experience. While racing through traffic to get to the emergency room, I did have the presence of mind to watch my ego try to get its greedy arms around this situation. First, I wanted to blame someone for “my baby” having to go to the hospital. “Why weren’t the teachers watching her more closely? How could they let the children run so fast?” (I heard another voice in my head say: “oh, yeah, try to stop 3 and 4 year olds from running – that works”) As I sped to the hospital in the pouring rain, I was upset with how slowly and safely people in front of me were driving: “I don’t care how old you are,” I yelled to the back end of an elderly man’s car, “my baby is in the hospital. Get out of my way!!!” (And to this I heard a softer voice say: “Don’t use this situation as an excuse to hurt or send toxic energy to others.”)
As I ran what seemed a mile to get to Ana, I found myself angrily blaming unnamed engineers for designing the parking lot so far from the emergency room. (While the other voice just said: “wow, I have no idea how to respond to that”) It was fascinating to track how dearly my ego claimed this situation and my emotional state as entitlement to behave anyway I wanted, disregarding anyone else’s feelings. I suspect that this emergency was not the only time that little pattern has appeared in my life!
After a long, emotionally exhausting evening, Ana got up the next day smiling, laughing and wanting to play. When I suggested she be very careful of the large gash on her head (OK, I didn’t put it that way), she nodded and then wanted to jump on the bed. Ugh! Doesn’t she get that this is not about her!?! When she got to the “gross motor room” at school, she ran to the big ball and said, “Mom, watch how I can jump on this,” I smiled briefly, and quickly turned my head away as though someone just showed me the contents of their colon. “OK I have to go now.” I looked at the teachers and said “I can’t watch.” They smiled knowingly. Didn’t Ana realize that her recent past should inform her future as to how to stay safe and avoid pain?
Well, that’s just it. She is too young to make sure her past shapes her future. Ana is in present time. What happened yesterday belongs to yesterday. Now she is here and there is a lovely, very large ball calling to her. While I asked the teachers to keep a careful eye on her – good luck to them! – and they assured me they would, I suddenly didn’t want Ana remembering the scars of the past as a foundation for her behavior in present time. In the end, that’s just a lower therapy bill– one less thing to revisit from her past so she can finally be clear and creative in present time. She’s a great spiritual teacher, my baby.
“I really want to get in touch with my husband,” Cathy said. “Just to know he is OK. He passed away three months ago.” Even though she was the relative of a good friend, I replied, “Without doing a Reading, I can tell you he is OK.” (I have often wondered what someone would do if a Medium said, “I Read your dead husband and he is really not OK. He’s got terrible insomnia and he feels really guilty for cheating on you.”) I continued: “I only Read those who have passed on as part of assisting clients to breakthrough or move forward in their lives in peace and clarity.”
Cathy adjusted her voice. “Oh, yes, it is hard for me to move on without knowing he loved me.” (Read: “Whatever, lady, I just want to talk with my dead husband.”) A cartoon appeared in my head: “I’m Seeing your dead husband, Wilbur, now, and it appears he never loved you and is clearly relieved to be on the other side.” Even as I rolled my eyes at the thought of it, my good friend’s smile appeared in my head, and I agreed to do the
Caveat: I’m not your typical 900 number psychic or healer. I’m a business professional who thinks of herself as facilitating leadership development and the accelerated transformation of systems – whether through consulting or
The funny part came when I was driving to my office to do a phone Reading for Cathy. Being on the edge of DePaul University Campus, parking around my office is a bear. Usually I ask those efficient parking angels to make up the difference between the reality of no spots that I witness as I drive around, and the miraculous departure of someone’s minivan from a spot somewhere in front of my office door, at just the right moment. Feeling a bit disgruntled about having agreed to do this
I was desperate, as the time for the
Sure enough Officer Quite Unfriendly showed up at my window. I opened it to allow in the bellow of disapproval and he sarcastically said – and I kid you not, this is a quote: “What? Did somebody die and someone called you to go and take care of it?” I was so shocked by his inquiry, I stopped to think. “Yes, actually,” I said calmly, “someone did die. And someone else called me to take care of it.” He hesitated and said: “You can’t park here!” I replied: “Officer, I’m not parked here. As you can see, I have my flashers on. I only stopped in this space because I knew you were going to give me a ticket and I had to call my assistant to tell the client whose husband died that I would be late taking care of it.” He angrily grunted. “Let me see your driver’s license!” I gave him that and my insurance card. He came back after assuring I was not an escaping criminal and almost yelled: “You can’t drive like this!” Even as he said it, I heard a voice-over say: “Your gift has not been given to you so you can Read dead people!” I smiled inside and said to him soberly: “You’re right, Officer. I can’t drive like this.” And what a surprise, he handed back my driver’s license without a ticket. I suppose when you get the point, no more reminder is necessary!
As soon as he turned around to leave, the person in the metered parking spot in front of me drove out and I gently moved forward. My parking spot was secured for the next two hours. That’s how I learned that Allison Dubois and I would not be sharing a profession, despite my proclivity for dead-man-talking.
Epilogue: toward the end of Cathy’s
This image came through a TI Reading yesterday:
A Mountain. Majestic and still - with the moon rising over its peaks, shedding new perspective on its crevices and bold jagged edges. Then the night changes into day and the sun reflects on the rich green trees and meadows of meticulously unkempt flowers. The season moves the focus from icy caps and scattered beds of soft white blankets, to dry yellow grass, whose backbends become their final resting place.
Like Monet’s haystacks which never change form or position from the first to the 100th painting and yet seem each so unique, this mountain stands in its Is-ness. Changes in the mountain’s relationship to the elements or seasons may make it appear a very different creature in each moment, yet the mountain remains itself, unmoving, even if its edges are slightly re-sculpted by weather.
How does this remind us of ourselves? Lynn, a friend of mine, told me that one summer her boyfriend, Joe, took an assignment out of the country, in a place where communication would be challenging. Frustratingly, snail mail became their best friend. One morning after Joe left,
If we can remember that we are the mountain, then when the sun shines happily down, or the rain pours tears everywhere, or the flowers show their smiling faces, or the icy darkness chills us to the bone, we will know we are still safe. We can notice, observe, and appreciate the movements that are part of our relationship with life. And we can stay still in our majesty as a unique expression of the Creator’s beauty. Namaste.
Maybe you prefer travel as much as I do. Well, maybe it’s not really about the travel but more about the wandering. That is what I like. Wandering. I thought it was because there is so much going on in my totally brilliant head that wandering allows the words, thoughts, theories, and projects to drain into my shoes and be absorbed by the ground. Then “ahhh”, I am just me again, rather than a walking balloon-head.
However, what has occurred to me through a TI Reading I did this week is that maybe wandering has less to do with my head and more to do with emotions. Being intensely sensitive to other’s feelings (in fact psychically or clairsentiently so) has the unexpected result of not wanting to stay still – to tune into my pain or others’. In fact, for me, staying still to tune into feelings results in overwhelm, in a Pavlov’s dog sort of way. Habitual resistance to the feeling of unbearable overwhelm reinforces the wandering. And sometimes wandering means interrupting myself – remembering what else I haven’t done just as I get into what I am doing.
As I reflected on this, it then occurred to me unexpectedly, that “expectations” are tied into this cat’s hair ball of associations. Another way to leave the task of tuning into my feelings is to look outward. When I look outward, my filter on the world shows me others’ expectations. What an expert I have become in sensing and exceeding others’ expectations! I can’t tell you what a good business person that has helped me become! When I’m focused on meeting or exceeding others’ expectations, then everyone is happy and I don’t feel overwhelmed – perfect!
Except sometimes I am overwhelmed by trying to discern and meet others’ expectations – so then I wander again. See? On one side of the polarity is wandering, and on the other side is meeting expectations – two ways to avoid the same fear: staying put, grounding, and feeling feelings that are way not happy.
Rather than swing from the sweat of checking the box of meeting expectations to the relief of escaping them, I could just sit quietly, ask those feelings that are not mine to leave my experience, and feel what is mine to feel. Since “God never gives us more than we can handle” and fear creates intensity that masks the simplicity of what are truly only my feelings, I am encouraged…a bit.
But as my mother advises on matters of the self, “Don’t go in there alone.” Grace is the most informed companion which brings with it the courage to look and to accept my own felt-sense of humiliation, fear, self pity, shame, and countless other feelings that can result in self-sabotage. With guidance and discernment of Spirit, I recognize the beliefs that create these feelings, and with self-compassion and mercy, I release the beliefs and the feelings.
Finally, the polarity of wandering and meeting expectations collapse into the paradox of releasing myself from wandering away from the self-condemnation of not meeting my own expectations…and that’s what wandering and expectations have in common.
When I was invited to speak at the Psychotronics Association (http://www.psychotronics.org/) Annual Conference, I had to ask: “Psycho what?” I thought at first they’d found me out and that I was to speak to “my own kind” (psychos) or perhaps I would be fortunate enough to be speaking with other psychics. As it turns out, the audience was mostly superspsychic and very brainiac.
Walking among this crowd was like being transported to a Star Trek production– with all the Galactic Ambassadors present for roundtable discussion.While they offered talks and workshops about the fields of radionics and homeopathy, most were pioneers of leading edge science - who were showing a variety of bio-technologies that utilized electromagnetic frequencies to heal, purify, detoxify, balance, and wash your dishes. OK, so not wash your dishes - but it was more scientifically based than any Whole Life Expo I’ve ever attended. And although I’m pretty technologically savvy, I found myself slowly backing out of some of the main sessions from lack of appropriate prerequisites to the discussion. Then I found out that the underpinnings of all this technology was the commonly held belief that our intentions and free will set into motion everything we do and build. That eased my embarrassment… a little.
Then to my great delight, one of the attendees at my workshop, Ways of Knowing, Fields of Influence, who was a Russian mathematician, recommended this fabulous site: http://www.qwavetech.com/. You can buy DVDs that “effect energy and healing in digital form” through your laptop, even when it’s in background mode. They have free links at http://www.energizingtechnologies.com/ that I am finding them quite potent! Go to qwave first for a bit of an explanation, and then link to energytechnologies. Tell me about your experience with it.
I learned a wonderful metaphor that helps me get quickly in touch with Spirit. It was offered by Dannion Brinkley (http://www.dannion.com/) in a keynote speech and I have embellished here:
Imagine an incubator for premature infants with the gloves attached to it. Imagine putting your hands into the gloves and holding the tiny baby inside. Now imagine that instead of a preemie, all the dramas and traumas of your whole life are inside the incubator. Your focus is very intense! Again, notice the gloves that give you an opportunity to move and manipulate what is inside the incubator of your life. Go ahead, feel into your life. Well, here’s the deal (explained by someone who has died and returned three times):
When you cross over to the other side, all you do is soften your focus away from the contents of the incubator, and then move your hands out of the gloves and return to who you are – Spirit. That’s it… Isn’t that great?
…Uh, except for the part where you then get to become all the people with whom you have ever interacted to really know and understand how they felt…YIKES!
I now use the image of the incubator when I make my life too serious or intense. And then when I’m in traffic or trying to go over my erroneous bill for the fifth time with the customer service representative, I try to remember that whatever I’m dishing out will indeed return to me after I take my hands out of my gloves!
The other day I played the CD Spinning by Claudia Schmidt (claudiashmidt.com). The song was called Here Comes Joy and the lyrics continue, “Let Her In…”. After I played it, my three year old Chinese daughter leaned her head forward from the back seat and said “Mama.” “What. Ana Joy?” I asked. “Mama, Let her in. Let her in, Mama.” Out of the mouth of babes.
The song says Joy is a deliberate destination – that you can’t stumble into Joy like you fall into despair. The song implies that Joy want us. Isn’t that a beautiful notion? Joy wants us. Are we paying attention? Sometimes just the idea of joy makes me think of the plethora of self-help books that have formulas for attaining this compelling state of being. Someone called too much education “the curse of knowledge” because it makes us all filled up with “I know”, leaving no space for curiosity or even “I’m not sure.”
I find meditation gives me the space to breathe… before launching into my “I know” . I sometimes forget that the insights I’m blessed to receive from client readings are only foundation pieces for new questions. What would I do without a three year old to inform me that Aunt Mary’s house lives in Chicago and that Monkey (her favorite stuffed animal and best friend) is from Russia, and that Monkey’s Mama (she refers to herself like this in third person) is from China? She helped me understand that Snoopy is Monkey’s father and that she has no problems with this interspecies family. Such chaos she makes of my ordered reality – the one that thinks it has answers from Spirit. So Ana Joy teaches me that Spirit is pure creativity – a creativity that laughs at our notion of how things should be; what constitutes a gift and what is a challenge; and who is our friend and teacher and who is our nemesis.
Today I promised myself to open, allow, and receive some unruly, illogical, and unsanitized versions of reality so that Spirit can get through my highly knowledgeable and dense head! “Mama!” “What, Ana Joy?” I asked again. “I’m joy, Mama. I’m Joy!” “Yes, you are, honey, yes, you are.”
My journey has been long and unconventional. Here, you’ll find my ever-unfolding reflections born of roles as both corporate consultant and intuitive healer.
A friend of mine, Diane Rossell, once said: “no matter what you are doing, you are always doing your work.” What is the work you are always doing, no matter what you call your role in work or life?
My work is to accelerate transformation toward more inclusive consciousness and love. I facilitate the movement of perceptions and educate people about maps of reality that are different than the ones they hold dear - or the ones that form the bases of whatever challenges they ask me to address. I do that with myself, friends, colleagues, and clients. I just do it. And, as those of you who know me can attest, I’m just that wordy most of time.
I will focus on stories and/or reflections that I hope inspire you and encourage your heart, as you have done for me through whatever relationship we have been blessed to participate. Let’s shape maps of reality that reflect purpose, meaning, and wisdom through the anecdotes we relate to each other.
I invite you to read, connect, comment and help me build a reliable pool of wisdom that will both enrich this space and expand our mutual horizon.