healing

275: The Stepping Stones to Glory

| Aspergers Girls
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From Twin Flame on Facebook

I was prepared for this time.

I was prepared by prophecy and my angels.

Fifteen years ago, when I was in my late-twenties, I heard my angels; they told me: “You are going to write your story. You are going to write to heal others and yourself. But it won’t be for a long time. You still have a lot to go through. You will not use your real name and you will not make money. This is your gift.”

A year before that, a seer  told me: “The best part of your life will begin in your early forties, when half of your life is over. Until then your life will be very hard. Your life career will change, and I see you in front of many people teaching and touching people all over the world.”

Eight years ago, during a powerful vision, I was told to write my story to heal others and to heal myself. I was told I would not be writing for profit. That I was not to make money or this would take away from the healing. I was told to start writing. I fell asleep and dreamt I was a giant oak tree, and people were gathered around me in unity celebrating and crying. They were healing through me, through my journey. When I opened my Bible, after I woke up, the Book fell open to the passage of the tree on the hill and the prophet. I began writing that day.

Seven years ago, a seer told me: “Everyday You Write the Book, the spirit of your grandfather is here singing this song. You will write and your words will reach people in a profound way, and you will bring healing to the world. It will touch people in a way you never imagined.”

Two years ago people began to remark on the healing energy surrounding me and of my “glow.”

Last year, a seer told me: “You are going to write. You are going to teach. You are going to reach people, and help them to heal.”

Having been told in several ways my destiny, there was definitely many times I felt inadequate, and many other times I felt I was insane.

There were times I pleaded to God to make my passion to heal the world stop.

Times I pleaded not to see and know so much.

I wanted a normal life.

I wanted the simple.

Still, after the vision of the oak tree, I spent everyday for a year, (except one day), writing. The end result was a release of so much negative energy and past wounds that I sank into a deep depression.

I cursed the heavens for what they had ‘made’ me do, and for the resulting failures. My writing wasn’t up to par. My skills were mediocre at best. After a year of tears and sweat, there was still so much more work to do.

I took a year off. Not planning to write ever again. The prophesies and my angels were clearly mistaken, and I was surely crazy.

The third year I was called again, and spent months redrafting my first writings. Still no luck. No one would look at my work. No publisher, at least.

But still this longing. I was supposed to write. I had to write. The second draft was not one of sorrow, but one of rage. I was so angry at my mother and for my past. I spent months in isolation and pushing others away.

I rested, almost another year, before writing again. The third draft was magic. My heart sang. The anger and sorrow released. And there was a lovely healing rhythm and love to my writing. The third draft was of forgiveness. By the end, when my manuscript was done, a large part of my past was healed.

Still no audience, though. No way to share my works.

I let it go. I’d done all I could. A part of me gave up. A part of me thought everything was just a coincidence, and that I only heard my angels to make myself feel special. I cried over the loss of my calling. And I mourned a part of me. Primarily my ego.

It wasn’t until this year that I began to share some of those writings and much new writing through this blog..

I hadn’t realized that just like my grandfather had sung those many years back: Everyday she writes the book.

I had absolutely no idea I would be writing for an audience any larger than a handful of people. Mostly, I wrote for me. I wasn’t intending to heal or help anyone, but myself. I’d let go completely of my calling, at least in regards to healing others through writing.

Slowly, through the months, I began to see that what I had been told all along was coming to fruition—the reaching others around the world, the different name, the no need or desire for profit.

The last seer I saw, a little over a year ago, she said I had the gift of creating a safe haven for people. I was a guardian of sorts. I didn’t understand then.

Remarkably, in the last months, through this blog, I have healed more than I ever thought imaginable. Not just at a physical level, but at a spiritual level, and even at a cellular place.

My husband and I both agree that the light in me has returned, a light I think I lost about the age of thirteen, when the fear of what life entailed set in.

Age Thirteen Me 8th grade

At times, I truly feel like I went away for a couple decades, just slipped out because life was too much. I don’t know who took my place, but it wasn’t me. I look back at this woman I was, and I don’t recognize her. I truly don’t. I love her. I know she was in essence a part of me. But she wasn’t me.

This is Eleven Years ago. My son with ASD and Me 399296_4993278079825_2087537885_n

I know the light returned because despite the trials of my life, I never gave up hope. I never let the world destroy my heart. I never stopped loving. I never stopped believing I could make a difference. Even when I wanted to die, my angels led me forward by reminding me to: Think of the Children. I know that in addition to my three sons (all birthed on a Sunday) that they meant the children of the world.

I’ve known since I was a very young child I would be called to be a healer. Probably at the age of four, when I stopped eating lamb as I didn’t have the heart for it. Probably again when I was nine, and I hid in the bushes weeping as I couldn’t comprehend the vastness of the universe and the depths of human suffering. Probably too, when as a child I would sit with people in convalescent homes by myself, just so I could be near the lonely at heart.  I knew I was a healer when I became a teacher, and later when I served as an advocate for children with special needs. I knew too, when I began to write.

What I didn’t know is the profound effect the healing would have on my own life and journey. I didn’t know how deeply I would be blessed.

Today I woke up frightened. I felt like I regressed. I began to cry. The fear was back. I couldn’t see a way out.

All about me the walls closed in. I became immobile, unable to do anything but feel and respond to the fear. My body shut down. I had pain everywhere. I was taking on the world, taking on the fear, taking on the dark.

I couldn’t stop.

I was brought back to a place I sat months ago. To a place I don’t wish to return.

But this time something was different. I had another me. A stronger me. And she was there holding me and cheering me on.

She shook me out of my place. She made me reach out. She made my light shine. She led me back to the amazing place I created on a social network site, filled with the most beautiful, caring of souls.

A safe place.

And I reached out.

I wrote: Please send me positive vibes….not doing well today physically. Frustrated. Thanks so very much. xoxoxo Brain fog, too. ♥ love to you all.

Within moment, before me, people reached out in all forms and ways from all over the world.

I received messages of:

Hearts

Wind from the Valley

Positive Vibes

Positive Energy

Hugs

Music

Lots of Love

Sorry you are having a rough time

Looking North

Much love Sweetheart

Big Bear Hugs

Loving healing bubbles of light

Dark Chocolate

Smiley Faces

Mashed Potato

Hope

Within a few minutes my pain dissipated, my fear decreased ten-fold, and I was able to breathe again. I was able to live again, and to find myself.

I was only lost for a moment, just long enough to be reminded that I am never ever going to be alone again.

Just long enough to know that I have created through vulnerability, honest, and pureness of heart the most wonderful place that draws to it the most wonderfulest of souls.

If ever there was to be a people I’d want to cherish, it would be these people. For they face challenges upon challenge. They face ridicule, displacement, misery, isolation, worry, dread, and pain on a daily basis. Their days are never easy. Their minds always searching.

And still they shine; they shine like no others, giving and loving unconditionally.

They have freed me. As have the people who read my words. And the people who write to me. The people who hold me in love and in thought. The people who thank me. They have freed me. You have freed me.

If there is one thing I could tell you, I would say this: Be you. Be the best you that you can be. Shine your light so brightly that your own soul sings out in celebration. And then watch how the light follows you, how the world unfolds, how your richest and purest dreams become the steppingstones to glory.

Thank you from every part of me. Thank you.

Photo on 12-12-12 at 2.02 PM
Me today.

262: Healing: Falsehoods and Rotten Apples

| Aspergers Girls

Sometimes I download information.

The following message came to me yesterday afternoon in the form of a vision during a James Bond action movie at the local theater. Not the best time, I say while laughing. Nonetheless, I took in as much as possible. I believe I do not do the visions justice as they come through a channel I cannot duplicate with words.

Whether this  message breathes from a corner of my mind, the collective unconscious, my angels, or other, I make no claim; I only share what I see. I found this fascinating myself, and the process has freed up much stagnant energy in me.

Interestingly enough, I have processed through many relationships and “gunk” these past couple weeks at high intensity, and this processing has freed up much space inside of me.

The more I process, the more rapidly information collects within me, and the more I process out. This current post led to a deep philosophical discussion between my husband and myself, which inevitably led to more healing and recognition.

I currently like how things are rolling; though painfully gut-wrenching in experience at moments, the joy I feel is equal in measure. Thank you for being part of this journey. I count you as a true blessing.

In addition, I would like to share, that after writing post 261, I was able to release a lot of frustration and lost hope, and see and hold the individual mentioned in the post with more love and forgiveness. So something is working; I’d rather not dwell on the source of my continuing emotional and physical healing, but rather embrace the occurrence and give thanks.

I’d thought about deleting post 261, as my nature is not to spew harmful intention or words of any sort, and I know the vibration of the words are not of my typical writing. Yet, I chose to keep the post, as I am part of the human condition that endures times of deep suffering and doubt, and don’t want to present myself without flaws and confusion at time. Again, I chuckle, as this whole blog seems to be one big blemish exposed to the world. In peace ~ Sam

Falsehoods and Truth

Some say I am crazy, a magical thinker, a dreamer, a pretender, someone to avoid and beware.

This is a falsehood.

Some say I am an attention-seeker, self-centered, someone with too much inside my own head, someone to correct and humble.

This is a falsehood.

Some say I am fooling myself, I have created this calling, I am trying too hard, someone who lacked love in youth trying to compensate through sacrifice.

This is a falsehood.

Some say I should paint these pages with images and quotes of their prophet, savior, or deity, that I am someone misguided, misinformed, not awaken.

This is a falsehood.

Some say I am ugly, big-nosed, big-eared, and old, someone to be fixed, repaired, or enhanced.

This is a falsehood.

Some say I am an example, living truth of light and goodness, someone to be adored, someone to aspire to be.

This is a falsehood.

Some say I am loving and sweet and kind, and adorable, someone to cherish, and hold, and uplift

This is a falsehood.

Some say I am wise, beyond my years, selfless, giving, someone who can prophesize and help others.

This is a falsehood.

For when I accept one truth, I must too accept the rest.

I cannot pick what I choose from the collection of illusions and discard the rest. The rest remain.

When I accept others’ perceptions of me that I deem beneficial, then I must also accept others’ perceptions of me that I deem non-beneficial.

I do not have the power within me to decipher others’ views and decide which are real and which are false.

I do not have the pride in me to take what I value as uplifting, and ignore the rest.

In truth, every word whispered is alive, and in so being a truth of its own form.

In truth, every thought born is alive, and in so being a truth of its own form.

I have not the capacity, nor want, to siphon through a multitude of endless words and thoughts focused upon me to decide which is real and which is fantasy—which is accurate and which is false as applies to my worth and identity.

All are false and all are true.

All are a falsehood, and in being so all are a truth.

They speak of the illusion I am.

They speak of the mystery that cloaks my true self.

That beneath these layers of illusion of word and thought, at my core is where I breathe.

I can only be sensed in silence, at another’s very soul.

And there, I rest, love upon love, the essence of another.

And so, today, as every day forward, I recognize the falsehoods as truth unfolded as illusion.

I recognize every thought of judgment I too hold, every evaluation my mind makes from habit and survival, is mere illusion.

That as I am love: As are you.

And I release the demands I have placed upon your soul to form you into something other than love.

I release the need to lessen you, to build me.

I release the need to build you to make my reflection brighter.

I release, and rerelease, over and over, with the still voice of love whispering: Illusion.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The Apple Tree

There grows an apple tree, in the valley, upon a hill, and there the people gather, one by one; they collect the apples green and ripe, still hanging from the tree, or nearly fallen; if still good, even a semblance of good, they gather

In other ways and times and places the apples appear golden, red, or mixed between; still they are gathered in the same manner, as people set about to gather what is deemed salvageable and decent.

Yet, on the ground remains the rejected, the left, the abandoned, stepped on and forgotten. Some overlooked, some lifted and dropped, some bitten into and spit out with distaste.

And too, up above, on the branches once full, remain the other fruit, the ones marked by time, or insect, or bite of animal friend. Those as well remain, slipped through fingers and not taken from where they live.

The people, they take the apples, and they create, they divulge, they slice and cook, they dice and dunk, they mix and drink. The apples chosen are greeted mostly with delight. Fed upon. Eaten to the very core. Tossed out when no longer needed. Or perhaps set in bin or yard to decompose into ground. Still they are used. They are gathered. They are wanted.

People do the same with words. People stand outside the tree of words and watch with wonder. They have an ache and need to feed upon the words. To digest the words. To take the words. They stand outside the tree and pick what they want to keep, and pass by what they deem distasteful, rotten, or flawed. They avoid the words of bruises and blemishes. They step upon the words of rotten worms.

What people forget is that the words left, like apples, to fall or stay resting upon the ground, broken and forgotten, do not weep. They rejoice. For they are the nurturers of the earth; the chosen ones to feed the soil and meek and tiny animals of the earth. They are the source of newness, rebirth, delight, and new blossoms of spring. They are the deep seeds that rest in the cold and darkness alone to begin again in light or to be taken away to distant land, by wing of flight or animal travels.

When you gather your words. When you collect your words, to signify who you are as a person, who you are as a soul, you cannot just pick and choose the very best apples. You cannot say: This is me, because she says so or he says so. You cannot just be the desirable apples. You are as one with nature. You, too, are the apple on the ground, stomped on and forgotten, bleed out to the earth to be reborn. You too are the distasteful and unwanted. If you are to collect the highest brightest apples, you must also recognize the fallen and forgotten apples. They are all aspects of yourself. Each and everyone. None greater or lesser. All serving purpose and truth.  You are a rotten apple. You feed the earth.

Thoughts on Healers/Leaders

  1. He or she recognizes life is ever-changing, that nothing stays the same, and thusly no list of a true leader can ever exist; that to scribe a list, to produce a list, in actuality goes against their belief system. A belief system that in and of itself shifts based on the release of attachment and widening of awakening.
  2. He or she prays or meditates or visualizes or simply thinks without thinking the potentiality and path of the higher good for all beings, whether this affects his or her current state of serenity.
  3. He or she will recognize a truth that vibrates from the core level of a person. A truth that is sometimes based on fear and false messages to self. He or she will recognize his or her own vibrational level and inner core truth, and help lift the vibration of the seeker to an optimal level through seeing, words, or simply holding the person in thought or light.
  4. He or she will sense the presence of a vibrational force in and throughout the world, in objects, thoughts, and words, as well as what is deemed living and/or breathing. He or she will have a reverence for all thing and people, and strive for unconditional love and acceptance.
  5. He or she will question both his or her actions and choice, until a time comes when action and choice moves freely in open form, embracing and loving without thought or intention.
  6. He or she will accept his or her truth as passing and pliable, easily shifted and reformed. Nothing is deemed stagnant or unmoving, even stagnation in and of itself is seen as a powerful energy, as are all things when seen in particular light.
  7. He or she will have released most, if not all, attachments and will for material gain and recognition, and hold instead the good of all as aspiration and goal. Such goals in and of themselves are offered as release, as well, as attachment to goal is too attachment in form.
  8. He or she will not see things in degrees or categories of right and wrong, or good and bad; instead the meeting point between to concepts deemed opposite shall be sensed as a vast expansive universe onto itself, incapable of comprehension or refinement. In sensing such a vast endless cavern separating two extremes, he or she will thusly understand the varying degrees of separateness of right and wrong are impossible to pinpoint, for there is no place to place a pin in an ever-expanding universe.
  9. He or she will look upon others with kindness reflected in manner, breath, presence, and perception. They will radiate light and love, and be understood as one who heals from near or far.

10. He or she will create a climate for healing through words or thoughts, providing shelter for the weary and searching without pride or condensation, see him or herself as equal, a soldier too, to self and ego, and wanderer indeed, ever-moving and journeying through tides and truths.

Yes..all these messages I heard/saw/sensed/felt/experienced during the first scenes of high-speed car chases and train escapes. Isn’t life grand!

And life isn’t all seriousness and such….sometimes it’s about finding the perfect little red dress for an upcoming event…or almost perfect! Still dress hunting….