Working my way back to....

I let go of myself

For a few seasons

Placed it on a shelf

For many reasons

Having a lot of fun

Caution was unheeded

When the day was done

I had all I needed

Both material things

As well as that of spirit

Songs my heart sings

I could always hear it

It's the party before the pain

So seductive was the song

I went back again & again

For I felt far too long

The journey back is uneasy

It takes time with effort with pain

Workouts that leave me queasy

I'm SkyChic once again

 

Am I Being Prepared for Death?

This blog title is from my heart & mind. It's something I have been contemplating for a while. 

It started happening 2 years ago. 

Granted, I have an excellent memory. Possibly a photographic memory. It's so strong that I have figured out how to erase those memories that I desire to erase for various reasons. The erased memories didn't begin to come back until recently.

So many memories throughout my life, which I had not thought about, are flooding my mind when I'm awake as well as when I'm asleep & dreaming. 

Some of these memories are of events that I regret or people I thought I had voided from my mind. People that are far too painful to think about. A sort of life review, if you will. 

This is why it feels like my time to pass on might be soon. 

Life Reviewing.

Around the same time, I began having these life reviews, an urgency that started small, has grown stronger since then. The urgency is to get my life in order, to finish projects I had started, years ago. I'm in excellent health, I have more freedom, more money, more control over my own life than I have ever had before.

It was a series of hurdles, sacrifice, work, perseverance to get where I am, now.

Having overcome so many fears that I had for so long, life is better for me than it has ever been. 

Learning to let people go, from my life, that have clearly shown me that they don't respect me or care about me very much, was an important lesson to learn. People may say, with words, that they care even while their actions say the opposite.

Just because someone is my mother, father, brother, sister, son, daughter, aunt, uncle, cousin or any other relation that it would seem that they would care about me. 

Sadly, it's often, in life, they don't care. Then, one day, when they hear of my death, then the regret may or may not surface.

In a divorce, after a marriage that had turned abusive & sour, I began re-inventing myself. Having lived to serve others for so long it was a foreign feeling to do things just for myself. 

Except for needlework patterns, fabric, fibers & beads.

Even my needlework was most often for others. Pouring my love into each stitch, wishing to delight the person I planned to gift it to. Looking forward to the day when I finished the stitching, then, making it into a Christmas stocking or ornament. A wedding sampler or a birth sampler. A just because I love you, thingamabob.

It was rare when I stitched something for myself, just to delight my senses long after the stitching was done then finished into a "whatever I want it to be."

I began changing back into who I really was or some variation of who I wanted to be. I was no longer the wife who kept the bed hot, the children clean & happy. I was no longer the woman who loved creating a beautiful home for others, whether it was to my personal taste or not. I was no longer the wife who was constantly being manipulated, frozen out for days or weeks at a time. I was becoming my own person apart from the one that other people wanted me to be, for their comfort.

This scared & baffled people around me.

In a psychology journal, I read that when a woman makes a noticeable change to her coiffure, LOOK OUT! 

She is planning other changes that might make some people feel threatened. She might be reaching down deep in her spirit to comfort herself in an attempt to fight back against that which is causing her to feel physical or emotional pain or both! She might be working through pain from the past, self-healing in order to foster her personal growth or in preparation to make changes in her life.

A possible stab at taking her personal power over herself back from people or events that made her feel stagnated, shackled, unwell.

This form of changing or refusing something that a person can, is seen most often in children in their single digits of age. They have little or no control over their lives. They will try to control what is well within their span of control. The child can poo or wet themselves, which causes the people around them to react. They can refuse to eat or sleep or refuse to pick up their toys, caring little about the consequences to be enforced upon them.

When a child feels that any of these things are ineffective or not within their control?

LOOK OUT!

The last resort is the oh so lovely tantrum.

I changed my hair constantly, when I was married, usually cutting it off. In hindsight, every time I cut my coiffure, it was a time when I was being emotionally tortured. Being given the freeze out for longer than was comfortable for anyone in the home except for the one who was ignoring everyone. It was so abusive, so, I cut my hair to feel like I had some modicum of control over my life in my own home.

I wear my hair longer than I ever have, now. So very telling.

In present day, I have nearly complete control over my life. Although the career I love, came to me later than I would have liked. Maybe it was predicated on just the right timing. I'm doing something I love that feels more like play than work. A bonus is that I have much more autonomy, am appreciated much more, can do this until the day I die! 

I probably will. Whenever that is whether sooner or later.

This brings me to the queries of why I'm experiencing all of the recall of distant memories. The urges to finish projects that laid untouched for a decade or more. I'm working on the bigger ones, finishing the smaller ones. I have stopped buying needlework supplies unless they are needed to finish an existing project. Holding drawings, online, for patterns that I see, are fetching hundreds of dollars, to bring delight to the recipients. 

Many stitchers who only discovered a certain designer, recently, or only began stitching within the last decade, find these beautiful patterns for sale at grossly inflated prices. When the patterns have gone out of print, the prices go up. My aim is to somewhat counter the price gouging while showing others that the patterns are within their reach. I do these prize drawings online, usually on holidays or in the month of my birthday.

My attitude, regarding my birthday, is to give to others. It makes me very happy to do this. 

I'm that girl who LOVES ~ Valentines Day!

Every year, on Valentines Day, I pass out roses to people who seem to need a bit of love in their life or in their day. Usually I have a dozen red & a dozen pink, long stemmed roses. I tie a length of curling ribbon around each one. I put them in a large vase, securely anchored onto the front passenger side seat of my car. Passing the roses out throughout the day, makes me happy to give a bit of love to others.

Giving other stitchers these high dollar patterns, even paying the postage, creates happiness in the various stitchers. Yes, I'm aware of the dollar value of these patterns. I know I will not stitch them, ever. The joy of giving them away usurps having them. There is more in life that is more fulfilling than having monetary wealth or possessions that others deeply desire. 

Giving them away is uncommon.

Effortless benevolent life practices which are uncommon is a thread that flows through my life.

It's how I roll!

Another aspect that may or may not be ominous is that a year ago, neighborhood cats have begun gathering on my front porch. On any given day when I haven't stepped outside due to a heavy workload, there are 4 cats hanging out on my front porch. Often there are as many as six! I don't feed them or have a water source for them. Nope, they are just laying all over the porch & the railing. 

It's nice that they are so comfortable, it's also a bit eerie, as it only began happening a year ago, soon after the life reviews along with the feeling of urgency to finish projects.

Here, kitty, kitty!   😺

This feeling that my life may be ending soon, has a serenity to it. While I know fully that I have made mistakes, as everyone has, I am fine with dying today or tomorrow or a week or more from now. Knowing that my children are doing well, they will be just fine without me.

Learning from mistakes I have made I have worked to be a better person. Helping others, being a kinder, more compassionate being than I was yesterday. 

Imperfect as I am, I'm unafraid of death.

Malama Na Koa

Love for a Koa wood box where I put my most loved things

A ticket stub from Iolani a few pretty promise rings

Small photos of my children whether close or lost to me

When they were my sweet babies this is what I see

Koa wood has a distinct scent as a cherished wood

I would furnish my house with it if I only could

The Hawai'ian spirit lives in me deep within my heart

A feeling of aloha while the islands and me are apart

Na Leo music plays as tuberose wafts through the air

Closing my eyes I can dream that I'm back there

Warriors of times past so primal so brave in their quest

Fills me with a yearning to be more than just a guest

Today the islands are a shadow of how they used to be

When every state park beach was unowned and free

Capitalists along with tourism on rampant overdrives

Hurt the natives of the land complicating their lives

All natives had to become warriors to protect the lands

Their hearts turned to something no haole understands

Being a girl who has known the beauty of many hearts

Aloha planted a seed in me with the feeling it imparts

Though I have lived there then was a tourist as well

Going back treating kindly to make a difference I can tell

It's small it's short it means so much to see their smiles

From this haole girl to the people so far across the miles

It Was Always There

The love I had in my heart felt like something was missing

 More about who I was less about who I was kissing

So many people search for "the one" for most their life

Only finding the pain of abuse laced with strife

Still others will find their soul mate with all happiness

Losing them sooner than planned back to loneliness

Often the pain drives them to drugs or to alcohol

The higher love you feel the deeper you can fall

I lost myself to become someone I didn't recognize

Becoming what he wanted though imperfect in his eyes

Ending a long marriage is painful even when it's for the best

Turning back into who I really was put my wits to the test

Being about revenge dress or revenge body wasn't my way

More about mending my soul for myself day by pained day

Deciding to fly solo like an eagle or a strong lady hawk

Changing everything to match my inner private self-talk

Happiness paired with meaning is the key to staying strong

Having myself as my own best friend for a blessed lifelong

That which had been forgotten I restored in my very own soul

Better than any man could do in making me again feel whole

Here on Earth

In this world where very little is as it seems

It's so pure to have only the belief in your dreams

Liars will lie users will use cheaters will cheat

Worming their way into your very heartbeat

Belief in yourself with quiet confidence

Can be your savior sent from providence

Those who are supposed to love you 

Will only be heartfelt as one that is true

Children grow up receiving then they surely forget

Sacrifices of their mothers which later they regret

For the parents move through time then cease to be

Their children soon find that they are never regret free

Those who have more love for money than anyone at all

Will be convinced it's wrong at the second trumpet call

It's only then they will see the deep pain they cause 

When they are shown how wrong in self-given pause

Sexual harm perpetrated on hundreds by those males

Who sought in selfishness in self-control fails

This too will visit the minds of those who can't forget

When the wracking of evil doing comes back as regret

Here on Earth we are acting in the time all are alive

By spirit by hormones by all that we can strive

At times we feel that we can't be touched not ever

Deep down we all know that none of us lives forever

What can we do with our mortal lives our mortal selves

We can place I and me upon the much lower shelves

Let your light of kindness take over in the rule most raw

Strive each day to live in the spirit of the higher law

This will bring joy as we were meant to have each day

Which light brings to us when darkness is pushed away

The higher law gives birth to charity to self-respect

Serving up abundance to guide to sweetly protect

Adulting

 

When I was a child, I didn't think adult life would be a challenge. 

I KNEW it would be.

All around me, I saw the strife of interpersonal relationships, financial worries, health difficulties, fatigue from a long workday, emotional difficulties, mental health difficulties, deep insecurities.

One of my cousins was mentally handicapped. I never knew his exact age. He constantly slobbered all over himself plus anyone within a 6-foot radius around him. He made very expressive noises, he laughed a lot, suffered the occasional cold or flu. He couldn't feed himself very well, he still tried. Sometimes he made it to the toilet, sometimes he didn't.

With all the difficulties in caring for him, my aunt & uncle loved him, took excellent care of him. 

He was a very loved child. The medical people told my aunt & uncle that he would live for, maybe 10 years, more or less.

He proved the doctors wrong!

He lived until he was almost 50 years of age. More or less. I had been out of touch with extended family. When I heard of his passing on, I cried, I loved him so much. Serving in the USAF had taken me so far from the small town in Michigan, life kept me hella busy.

They had 3 more children besides him. They treated him as equally as possible, like their other children, while expecting less from him.

When my aunt & uncle along with their other children visited us, they brought him with them.

Some people might think it would be unpleasant to have this wild child with them when they visited. He was actually quite charming; he was loved & accepted by extended family as much as his siblings. 

He was a very loveable happy guy!

He laughed a lot, he hugged a lot, he made some disgusting noises which was so entertaining. When he made fart noises or really any noise, we all laughed. He would clap his hands, grinning & making his happy noises. It was hilarious!

He was a world class belcher. To get the show started, we would give him warm root beer! 

He would deliver, every time! He belched & laughed, most of us around him would laugh. Sometimes someone would fake belch or deliver a real one, the kind that echoes.

He loved hugs, long tight hugs which delivered enough saliva from him, if you just added some shampoo, you could wash then rinse your hair, maybe your body, too. 

My aunt tried to keep a bib on him, he hated that, often he would rip the bib off then hand it to her & shake his hand at her in triumph! 

Sometimes, when his parents had to get things done, they would put a bib on him that was very difficult for him to take off. It kept him busy for at least 30 minutes or until he figured out how to take it off. This also served to tire him out. When he became tired from trying to take the bib off, he would go to his bed to sleep. Sometimes he would be so tired, he would drop to the floor, where he stood, too tired to make it to his bed. Smart tactics, I thought.

Whatever he was or was not, I loved him! Not like a brother, I was more fond of him than I was of my 3 brothers. My brothers were siblings with the rivalry that naturally occurs between siblings.

He was vulnerable, yet strong.

He loved unconditionally, though he sometimes let others know that he was not happy about something someone said or did.

He had a slight temper, angered quickly, became happy just as quick, all was forgiven within seconds. Big slobbery hugs followed.

When my aunt & uncle, along with my cousins visited, I volunteered to watch over him. Sometimes he liked that, sometimes he didn't. Even though he couldn't talk, he communicated very clearly.

It was my task to make sure he didn't run out into to the dirt road my parents' house was on, to keep him from being hit by passing vehicles. We lived in a somewhat rural area, on a dirt road, there was plenty of acreage to run & play. He was so much fun!

If he became a bit bored, he would drop down to the ground, cry out loudly. That was my cue to think of something fun to do. It was always something simple for him. Yeah, he was easily amused.

Sometimes, I would start pulling weeds up out of the ground, then, shake the bits of dirt from the roots, onto his hair. He would laugh, then do the same thing, sometimes shaking the dirt into his own hair, sometimes into mine. I had to pace this activity as he would sometimes escalate into finding a pile of dirt, then throw double handfuls at my face or his own. 

Sometimes he would start eating it!

There was never a dull moment with him.

If I was not at home when his family visited, things would sometimes get out of hand with him. He may have sensed that I truly loved him. Yeah, the family really loved him, too, all family members understood that he was different, required more patience, sometimes more than any of us had. We still loved him; still understood he was doing all he could.

To put this dynamic in better context, if you have ever seen the movie, "Nell", it gives a clearer idea of what my adorable cousin was like. Except, the character, Nell, was most likely born less mentally handicapped, she seemed to be more of a product of her environment.

She was, just as my cousin was, a pure soul. She had speech impairment though she communicated quite well. She was aware of her surroundings some of the time. Some of the time she was oblivious. It was, sometimes difficult to perceive which.

These were fun charged moments when my cousin visited.

These snippets might give you, dear reader, a bit of insight into some of my fear of going out on my own, into the adult world.

If I were to be injured to the point of becoming mentally handicapped, would people be as understanding of me as everyone had been with my cousin? In life, not all that goes around comes back around.

If I were to marry, then, give birth to a baby with the mental capacity of my cousin, how would I handle it? 

It would be entirely different to have a mentally handicapped child vs occasionally entrusted with watching over my cousin, keeping him entertained & safe.

There are, of course, many different people in the world who are unkind, who have their own agendas. People who harm others for their own self - serving purposes. People who engage in casual sex, robbing, killing, manipulating others to their will.

I have one or maybe more cousins who is like that. One, in particular has been repeatedly incarcerated for 90% of his life. He would serve his jail time, often being released early for good behavior. Within days after he was released, he would rape or commit armed robbery or some such offense. He would be picked up by LE's, back into the pokey.

As ridiculous as this sounds, my particular cousin was (maybe still is) just as charming, adorable, quick tempered then quick to forgive, as my mentally handicapped cousin.

He gave me the same vibes as a spider, biding time in a web for a fly to come along. Just like the fly or other such insect, the future prey would approach somewhat cautiously, get drawn in. By the time the prey was firmly stuck in the web, it was too late. 

My cousin figured out, early on, that he was very attractive, that he appealed to most girls. He was an accomplished pinball wizard, a drummer in a band at a very young age, which appealed to guys who admired his skill. He had a way of drawing both genders in for him to exploit for whatever his purposes were.

I will always remember the "aha" moment when I realized that it was best if I stayed away from him. He really was so multi-talented, it even amazed me!

I went with my parents to my aunt & uncles' home for a visit. My cousin was older than me, he was about 17 or so. He had a new drum set that he was practicing on. He wanted to play the rhythm portion of a certain song; he asked me to listen to it.

It was so fascinating to listen to him, drumming. He seemed to morph into a music God when he played drums. He was self-taught, had such flawless rhythm. When he had played the drum solo for me, he had worked up a sweat from the effort, he actually smelled really good!

I asked him:

"What are you thinking about when you play drums?"

His answer told me all that I needed to know to stay away from him.

" Do you really want to know, it's kinda scary!"

I said, "Sure."

He said:

"Usually I'm thinking about f*cking 6 chicks at the same time or that the drum is a rich guy's head & I'm smashing his skull so I can rob him, go out, have a good time."

It was so truthful, brutally so.

When he said this, I knew to stay away from him.

With strong certainty, I say, members of my extended family are probably smiling, maybe nodding in recognition. Most likely, they know, they remember, exactly who these 2 people were or are. 

These life experiences, early on in my life, made the adult world seem so scary. Akin to a field of land mines that I could possibly step on, be damaged for the rest of my life. It told me to be very careful around people. The ones I thought I knew well, more so the ones about which I knew very little. These experiences told me that the world is full of good, kind people along with predatory people. I realized, early on, that it would often be tricky to discern which was which.

Somehow, I learned to discern this. Though I have encountered more than my fair share of each plus all the variables in between. A burning curiosity combined with a love for adventure can pose problems. It seems that I learned quite well how to navigate, if you will, adulthood.

Although, I see clearly, I have so much more to learn. With the high level of curiosity, a strong desire for adventure, a willingness to take calculated risks, remaining humble & teachable, I'm doing okay.

While many people see being an adult human being as such a drag. Seeing responsibility as a fun sucker, hating their jobs/careers, wanting so much that seems to be out of their reach (material good as well as nonmaterial).

Having a strong sense of optimism & burning curiosity about everything is butt kicking armature for an adult life that is filled with wonders.

Of course, I encounter difficulty, occasionally. Just like the old school child's toy. I may wobble, sometimes get close to falling down.

The Spook Life

Yeah - yeah, the spooky season has passed. I ain't afraid of no ghost!

This will be a more personal blog entry. 

You have been told, proceed with a spook on, let's go!

As a child, I started having spiritual experiences at the tender age of around 4 years, it was normal for me. Reality for me was that I believed everyone had the same experiences. When I spoke to my mother about my experiences, she told me that if I told people about my connection to the spirit world, I might be taken away to a funny farm.

Needless to say, I kept it to myself.

As I lived, learned, grew in spiritual understanding, I attributed my experiences of the thin veil between the human world & the spirit world to my Native American heritage.

One day, I made the shocking discovery that my mother had some very spiritual experiences, albeit, less than me, still, very profound.

I had my first OBE often referred to as an NDE at around 4 years of age. It was beautiful, felt very serene, I wanted to stay there. Alas, I was told that I had to go back, that I would return forever when it was my time.

In addition to the first, three more similar to the first one, enraptured me, every time. Almost a feeling of limerence, maybe in agape form.

There were a myriad of other spiritual types of experiences I had.

The WUG life chose me. 

At times, I could hear other people's thoughts. One such experience was when I went raspberry picking with a friend. We were on opposite sides of the long bramble hedge. I heard her, clearly say, "This is just like the times I spent picking raspberries when I was a child."

I spoke out loud, "Isn't this just like when you picked raspberries when you were a child?"

She ran so fast, around the briar hedge to ask me if I heard what she had been thinking. Answering truthfully, I told her that I had heard her thoughts, all of them. 

Sometimes I would see what a person's future held for them. A sort of prophesy, if you will, even if you won't.  👼

People have told me, many times, that I could make some serious cheddar if I were to give readings for profit. It's my personal belief that it would be wrong for me to do this. My spiritual gift is so precious to me, using it to make money would feel like prostitution. My spiritual gift was given to me for a holy purpose, to help others, also, to protect myself. Others with a similar gift are free to do as they wish, it's a very personal decision.

A reoccurring gift that has been more frequent than others is to be able to know the gender of a baby. A few times I knew a woman was with child even before she knew. Having been 100% correct, it still amazes me that this gift is so accurate.

Maybe it happens due to the fact that I'm spiritually sensitive, very receptive to intuitions that are given to me. I just might be a magnet, the kind that attracts spirits as maybe the word got out in the spirit realm.

"Psst! There's this spiritually receptive chick who can see & hear you, you're welcome, now, get down to spirit biz."

After ending a marriage that had turned abusive, life seemed so dark, hopeless. Only a very few people who I actually thought, cared about me, stuck by me. The rest showed me how little they cared by deserting me. During some of my darkest times, I received encouragement. A voice would speak to me inside my head. Usually when I was killing it on a cardio machine. 

Be honest!

Did you think the voices of encouragement might have been telling me to eat that brownie or commit crimes? Didja?

Nay, I say, the message was the same every time. It said:

"Keep going, life will get better. All that you have lost, want to have back, again will come to you, if you just keep going."

So, I believed, trusted the message, lived with a grateful attitude that it would happen.

Little by little, the encouraging message came true. In fact, it began happening in aces!

Most of that which I had lost that I wanted to come back to me, came back plus a few wonderful aspects that seemed to be out of my reach, began to appear to me. This is more about aspects of life than it is about material things, although there were a few material things.

I had always known I had a guardian angel. Prior to that miserable, post-divorce time, I had felt the presence, had never seen her/him in physical form. When some deep, pain filled disappointments hit me one right after the other, I felt so beaten down.

There was no appetite for anything in me.

Laying on my bed, in deep despair, I truly wanted to die. Barely taking sips of water, deeply hoping I would die. I was living completely alone for the first time in my life on the third floor in a beautiful 2 BR 2 BA townhome with a lovely view of the Colorado Rockies.

Fading in then out of consciousness for a few days, taking an occasional few sips of water. The relief of feeling myself grow weaker was a comfort. I laid there wondering how long it would take for me to slip into a coma then pass on.

I felt the sensation of a presence, next to my bed. In my spirit I knew exactly who it was. A feeling of warmth in my whole body came over me. I opened my eyes, unexpectedly, standing at the right side of my bed, there was my guardian angel. Just as solid as a real, living human being. Many people might be frightened by this, it was a curious moment. 

I knew who this was.

The members of the church I had been attending, had shunned me when the news of me leaving then divorcing the abusive ex. 

This was the start of my decision to leave organized religion.

Having always been more spiritual than religious, it made more sense.

My guardian stood by the side of my bed, looking at me with such a look of pained compassion, strong silent love. While the comfort was extended to me, I had to choose whether to accept it or not. At that point, I was questioning everything. Even wondering who God was or if there was a God. For the last 5 years of the marriage, I had prayed, on my knees, crying, begging to have the heart of the man I was married to, to be touched. For him to be less selfish, less cruel, to stop lying to me, to stay away from other women, to appreciate me, more. I prayed for his guidance, direction, understanding, tell me or show me what to do, how to save my marriage.

It felt like God had turned away from me.

When the guardian angel extended love, comfort, compassion to me? 

Right or wrong, I turned away. The feeling was that God had deserted me, I didn't want whatever was being offered. Laying there in my bed, I felt the angel's presence lingering. I fell asleep again, when I awoke, I felt the presence, no longer in physical form.

There have been times when a person I was blood related to or emotionally close to, came to me to tell me good bye around the time they passed on. 

A man who was like a father to me, I had even called him, Dad, he had been in poor health for a long time. He came to me in voice only. I was having a restless night, sleep just wasn't happening. I went into the living room of the home where I lived with the huzz & kiddos at the time. I laid on the sofa, looking out at the night sky. Then, I heard his voice very clearly.

He said:

"Brenda, I wanted to tell you that I'm leaving, now. I left you a gift of a large sum of money. I wanted to tell you that you are such a sweetheart, I love you. Now, I'm going."

I answered him, "Thank you, Dad, I love you, I will miss you!"

Just a couple minutes later, his son called me to tell me he had passed on. I felt sad for a few months after that, though I was happy that he was no longer in pain.

Also, I knew that his wife & firstborn son would mistakenly believe that I didn't know about the money Dad left for me. They kept it for themselves. I suppose their integrity has a dollar amount attached to it. 

A few years after that, I was living in El Dorado, a suburb of the canal zone, Republic of Panama'. Due to the abuse, by my parents, when I was a child, then, the cruelly selfish actions of my mother when I was an adult, I had ejected her from my life a few years earlier. Sent her a letter, telling her goodbye & why. She never approved of me or anything I did. It was time to stop hoping for or putting effort in to get her love or approval. I was done.

I was lying in bed, it was around 2 am. I was married at the time, he was asleep, snoring loudly, keeping me semi awake.

I had not seen nor spoken to my mother in almost 5 years. I opened my eyes, sat up when I heard her voice. Then, I saw her, just her upper front torso, a younger looking face, her beautiful red hair.

"Brenda? It's mom. I wanted to tell you I'm sorry for everything I did to hurt you. I'm going, now, just wanted to say goodbye."

I replied, "It's okay, Mom, goodbye."

Just then, the huzz stopped snoring, asked me who I was talking to.

He went back to sleep, no snoring, so I could sleep, too!

www.miramontcastle.org

When I lived in Colorado Springs, the town of Manitou Springs was very close. Manitou Springs is one of the most haunted places I have ever been. It was sacred ground to Native Americans until it was taken from them. 

Miramont Castle is a beautiful place in Manitou Springs, to take a self-guided tour for a small admission fee. It's also, very haunted. I went there regularly, to walk around, by myself. Though no one who was alive was with me very often, I had several entities to keep me company. I acknowledged them & they acknowledged me.

There have been so many of these spiritual experiences, there are more every day. People speak of the paranormal, for me it's simply normal. Everyday occurrences.

It can be called "the spirit" or "the Holy Spirit". Whatever's clever or what name is given; the messages given to me, speaking to me usually inside my head have always been 100% correct. Kind of like a muscle. The more I exercise trust, follow the guidance that is given, the stronger it becomes. Also, more frequently.

I used to treat it like cafeteria guidance, picking & choosing what to follow, what to ignore. I learned to follow the guidance nearly 100%.

It makes sense.

If a person, mostly ignored you, when you spoke to them, you might speak to them less or stop speaking to them at all. It seems to work like that.

When I have heard the saying, "Every zoo is a petting zoo if you have enough confidence." It causes my own introspection, "Everything is haunted when a person is spiritually sensitive."

Life can be good-haunted.

Life Solution #1

Do you love summer? Do you love spring?

As one who loves warm weather, despises cold weather, snow, ice, sleet, melancholy moods set in with the first snow of the season for me. Often, I stay in bed, all day, when the first snow falls.

As much as I love warm weather, it brings something that annoys the #2 out of me. No, this isn't about potty humor. Sorry, not sorry.

One aspect of warm weather that is so irritating to me, is the common, annoying, where do they come from, how are they getting inside.

Can you guess?

If you guessed that it's children, that's a big "no". I love children & most children love me. Such a gift of sweetness.

If you guessed that it's mice, I can touch on that in a later blog entry.

If you guessed roaches or general insects, ditto on that, too.

Hey! I live in a rural area where critters that find their way into people's homes are just part of the country charm!

Cutting to the chase, it's house flies. Mm Hm. So annoying!

They annoy me more than they annoy most people. People rarely annoy me. I love being around most people.

House flies!

By now, many people might know that I live in north Texas. I moved to Texas in 2012. Something I noticed after moving to Texas is that the critters are a bit tougher, more resilient. Having lived in many locations in the USA as well as other countries, the critters are definitely tougher, here.

Here is the main point of my blog entry. I started doing this soon after I moved to Texas. It seemed very logical to me, I figured everyone would know about it. As I spoke of my life hack method for getting rid of house flies, I realized that most people didn't know about it. 

As I am quite frugal, more of a saver, far less of a spender, I invented my method to get rid of house flies. The flies in Texas are tougher, they are also faster than house flies I have given a sendoff to, in other areas of the US as well as the rest of the world where I have lived or visited. 

Another aspect of my method is that it costs next to nothing!

All you need is a small bottle with a fine mist sprayer top & water.

That's it!

House flies can't launch if their wings are wet. The weight of the water also makes it difficult for them to even crawl! Just one or two spritzes on the unsuspecting fly guys, they are still alive, just completely immobilized.

Dispose of then as you like.

You're welcome.

PS ~ House flies also hate peppermint or any mint. A few drops of peppermint essential oil on windowsills. Rodents & roaches hate it, too. It cut down on the number of flies that were getting in.

The ones that do still get in will die because I'm armed with a spray bottle & vacuum cleaner with a mean clean hose attachment!

PPS At this time, a few days after the original post, there are no more house flies in my house. The ones that were in the house are dead. The peppermint oil on my windowsills has repelled others from entering my house.

Counselor Truth vs Deception

So, peeps, for the first time ever in my blogging, I will start with a disclaimer.

By trade, I am a linguist. It's something I enjoy so much; it feels more like play than work. I'm certified as fluent, at native speaking level in 6 languages. The 6th language was one I have taught myself in the past 18 months. I can speak it as well as read it. It's possible for me to write it only with a Cyrillic program online.

This is to say, I am NOT a trained counselor. 

"Dammit, Jim! I'm a linguist, not a counselor!" 

 

While professional counseling might work for others, it damaged me more than it helped. The very first formal, professional counseling I received, lasted for one year, it helped me tremendously. It helped me to heal greatly from a very traumatic, abusive childhood.

Forever & always, I will be grateful to the counselor, who stuck with me to unscramble my thinking, to understand the practices that damaged me, to be a better person, a better mother. Breaking the cycles of abuse that had been going on for several generations was worth it, so very expensive, so very pain filled. 

Completely worth it.

At this point, I have to express gratitude, also, to the woman who kindly, compassionately took care of my 2 older children. A full year, while I went through the counseling that completely changed my life. Counseling which also made a huge difference in my sweet babies' lives. The 2 youngers of my children were not born, yet it made a difference for them. Of this I am 100% certain.

Moving through time, there were still some difficulties when I sought professional counseling. After such a positive experience, it was natural to believe that all counselors & counseling could be good experiences. After all, professionally trained counselors are trained to help in healing.

It's a bit tricky to find a counselor who is adequately trained. One who is truly compassionate, who is a counselor who is working to help others as in caring more for people than the money it pays.

Finding a counselor who is a good fit is more difficult than winning a mega million lottery. In my experience, the odds have been just that low. Professional counselors are people, too. Just as some non-counselors do, they will sometimes deceive, lie, with hold, pass judgment. 

Yeah - Yeah.

I know it's unethical, it's just wrong. It still goes on, though. It has been my personal experience that some counselors have lied to me or lied about their credentials or even just used deception to get into or out of whatever they felt they had to do.

My intuition is sharper now, than it has ever been. Some people might call it gut instinct. It's sometimes referred to as the Holy Spirit. Some might say it's a still small voice.

Mine used to be still & small until I began listening to it, more. It's similar to a muscle. The more you exercise it, the stronger it will become. Having had too many negative experiences with organized religion, it has shaped me into a spiritual person vs a religious one.

That still, small voice is more like a flowing, assertive speaking one.

Organized religion is more of a making money off of the God concept than it is about doing good in the world. The simple country preacher has mostly been replaced by televangelists & super churches. People & organizations cashing in on the concepts of God. My church is the church of the elliptical, Stairmaster & free weights. A place where I get the most peace, where I do the most thinking.

Counseling? F that S.

(For me)

My last experience with a professional counselor, I determined, was the last professional counselor I would turn to, ever.

While prayer is less of a constant in my life, I do turn to it occasionally. Sometimes it even turns to me in the form of guidance, intuition. The flowing, assertive inner voice that guides me.

As I was trying to heal from various sources that had done damage, that is something that happens in every person's life, I sought a counselor. At first, it seemed to be helping. I'm far less trusting than I have ever been. It took time for me to trust this counselor. Just as I had begun trusting the counselor, the betrayal of that trust set in. 

Yep, betrayed by the counselor.

At the counselor's suggestion, a regular weekly appointment was arranged. This was of great comfort to me. The thinking was that maybe this counselor was of the ilk of the compassionate, caring one that I had experienced the most healing from.

There was hope.

At the point where I had been seeing the counselor for one month that the assertive inner voice, spoke to me, making spidey senses tingle that all was different than it seemed with the counselor.

A person who I had known for many years asked me if I could do an enormous favor. 

The favor involved, staying in her rented home for 2 months, then signing the closing documents for a new home to be purchased. The place I would be house sitting was in another state, about 600 miles away. I am described by many people as a trustworthy, wise, consistently truthful person. ESPECIALLY when it concerns money.

Because I had some misgivings about the counselor, I prayed about it. The answer was that the counselor was, specific to me, not as they seemed. 

That the counselor was going to cancel all future appointments with me. 

That the counselor was close friends with a previous employer who had lied to me to cover themselves.

Therefore, the counselor was going to use an excuse to cancel all of our regular appointments, using a weak, made-up excuse to halt our appointments, in loyalty to her friend.

Water seeks its own level.

In answer to the one who had asked me to house sit for 2 months; my answer was that I had a personal revelation that the counselor was not as they seemed. That they would employ a deceptive reason to cancel the regular appointments. That, when, vs if, the counselor cancelled all future appointments, I would say "Yes" to house sitting as well as standing in to signing the closing of the property purchase.

The Holy Spirit is correct, 100% of the time. 

On that day, when I went to the counselor's office, it happened just as I was told it would. All future appointments were cancelled, it was also revealed to me, in time that the counselor was buddy-buddy with the previous employer who had shafted me.

There is a double rose to this. Double rose as opposed to double edged sword. It even smells a bit sweeter. While the counselor used a deceitful method, it was a good thing that I had my future appointments cancelled. I could do the home sitting & document signing, would have a change of life pace. In addition to that, there were some visits with family & prior acquaintances during the 2 months I was there.

While it's unethical for a medical or psychological professional to deceive or outright lie to a client, it worked out after all.

Something that also happened was to cement my resolve to never seek out a professional counselor for the rest of my life. The counselor's deception was the proverbial frosting on the cake plus the cherry on top, in one.

Yet another bonus was that the intuition I received was proved 100% correct. This served to strengthen my trust in my intuition, to give stronger resolve to trust then follow the advice it gave.

People, even professional people, are only human. Humans sometimes lie, cheat, steal, for whatever of their reasons. Counselors also, sometimes lie, cheat, steal, for whatever their purpose is.

From what I learned in this last experience, though I only bear goodwill. I will never seek a professional counselor, ever, again. 

Every person's best counselor is their own intuition. Although most of the media distorts, makes fun of, totally negates beneficial promptings of a spiritual nature, it has been repeatedly proven that it's mostly lies, deception designed to entertain. 

Also designed to dilute the spiritual aspect of being human, so much, that most will be very hesitant to consider or speak of it. 

Fears of being disbelieved as a minimum, being dubbed as a kook or mentally / emotionally unbalanced are the danger.

A caveat to this, is that, intuitions used or given by any source or any person rarely if ever applies to all. Intuition is such a personal aspect of human spirituality that it will most often only apply to the one spirit of the person receiving it.

There may sometimes be a ripple of benevolence from just one person listening then doing as instructed, that affects many others.

If only the people who say, "As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord" because we know the Lord doesn't need to eat (a bit of humor). If the same people actually lived by, "As for me and my house we will listen to then apply our benevolent intuition". 

The world might, just might have less suffering.

As for me, I have learned to listen then follow my intuition. It is truly a learned aspect, it takes practice. It also, sadly, takes as many experiences as it takes, of the pain when intuition is ignored. Some people learn sooner in life, some learn it later, some never learn.

The lessons learned in my life, thus far, I attribute to the one who has guided me, less so, to myself. 

I am only human.