PSA for all my fellow co-dependents

PSA for all my fellow co-dependents
time to reclaim YOU!

This is a quick dispatch from the front lines for those of us who have addicts in our lives.

What if you got, finally, that you can’t save anyone? I think this is the hardest piece to accept. We think that by giving up controlling and judging the addicts in our lives it’s a short hop and skip to their ultimate demise. So we don our savior caps, jump in and make it our job to do the savior routine. And how’s that working for you? Not so great I bet. The fact is they will either live or die, and nothing you say, do, or attempt to manipulate can change that. They are choosing addiction and only they can choose recovery. Is it easy? Nope. Can you change that for them? Double nope.

And here’s a massive wrinkle to consider…how much of your control and manipulation is actually a judgment of them? Ah yes, judgment – the quick-crete of this reality. Could it be possible that your judgment is in fact helping to fuel their addiction? I wonder what would happen if you gave that up?

A solution? Get into allowance of everyone’s choices. Let addicts choose. And let you do you Boo. You have your whole life to live, can you choose it?

Being Pathetic

Being Pathetic
and what’s required to gtfo of that

Back in 2018, I suffered what’s called adult-onset trauma. Essentially close family members, people who’d told me they loved me unconditionally, collectively turned on me. But it didn’t end there. They used their power, time, and attention to turn every other family member against me as well. It was war, everyone against me. It was an emotionally devasting bloodbath. The effect this had on my body, life, and living can’t be underestimated. I suffered profoundly for over 2 years. 

Relentless insomnia, anxiety, depression, an exaggerated startle response and so much more. I was diagnosed with PTSD and C-PTSD. I didn’t put together, till much later, that all of the physical symptoms were my body’s awareness of their plotting and planning against me. Awareness of the truckload of lies they were spreading about me. It would come in waves that seemed to track with the “family meetings” they had to discuss the problem of Emily. Being an empath, under these extreme circumstances, with my sensate, spherical, somatic awareness, was both a gift and largely a curse.

What had I done that was so evil, mean, and vicious as to be compared to Hitler and the killers of Matthew Shepard? Yeah, they went there. To compare intergenerational family trauma to geopolitical insanity and lethal rage for queer folks seemed a tad over the top within the context of our family therapy session. And the fact that our “therapist” did nothing to reign their abuse in further solidified what I knew to be true. That everyone had collectively lost their fucking minds, the therapist included.

So, I staggered forward. I managed and not very well if I’m honest. I was profoundly pathetic. I tried negotiating with them for a while. But I could no longer be controlled. They could not stomach not controlling me. So, we were collectively done. I, for the first time, chose me, and I have not ever looked back.

From there I settled into a deep hurt. But I also blossomed which gratefully confirmed I’d made the right choice. One day, after I had declared that I was no longer in the fight, a family member who was still under the collective familial delusion, reached out. A sweet and manipulative email, attempting to draw me back into the fight. 

My response? To FINALLY get angry. Finally, after years of abuse, I had access to my rage. I didn’t need to let it all out, I just needed to express the top notes. The fragrance of my rage was enough.

And that was it. After a lifetime of being nice. A lifetime of being conditioned to turn the other cheek. A lifetime of feeling wrong in the midst of their rightness. All of it came to its natural conclusion. I was right for me and I no longer needed anyone’s validation. My anger healed me profoundly. My body was less reactive. I began to sleep better. I stood taller. Hell, I even made more money. Such is the power of choosing to confront lies with your righteous anger.

So, can you let a little bit out? Can you finally get fucking angry? I hope so. You, the real you is waiting on the other side of it. As always, I’m here to hold your hand if need be.

Destination Consciousness

Destination Consciousness
a most uncomfortable journey

With signage like this quote, it’s hard to know whether to take the detour to consciousness or stay on the unconscious superhighway with everyone else. What’s worse? The sameness and smallness of you and your life – that which you call fate? Or the deeply uncomfortable journey toward consciousness? You have my deepest sympathies as you ponder this.

I felt trapped in that long-haul semi-truck of sameness for most of my life. In many ways I knew I was living an inauthentic life but, beyond Marge, I didn’t have much support in changing it. Whatever changing it even meant I hadn’t a clue. Eventually, life and consciousness facilitated me toward reaching for more. Being the same old same old was just too uncomfortable. But, it was never, not ever, easy. Every turn was always painful, difficult, flabbergasting, frustrating, devastating, traumatizing, and eventually generative and expansive. 

Somewhere, just after college, and long before I knew anything about anything, I chose to take the path less traveled. I took the exit that read: Consciousness. Sadly no one warned me about all the back allies, dead ends, unpaved roads lined with tacks, roundabouts to nowhere, jug handles, and super highways paved with slippery glop that I’d need to traverse.

And that’s the rubber on the road. The journey toward consciousness isn’t cute. You have to condition yourself to the discomfort of full awareness, knowing, being, and receiving. You, along the way, reconcile that consciousness includes absolutely everything and judges nothing. It’s the whole enchilada like it or not.

And now that I’ve reached the destination, I’m also wise enough to know it’s no destination at all. It’s a constantly shape-shifting twelve-dimensional road map made in dream space. There is no one road, there is a bazillion of them and they’re entirely ephemeral. And yet, here I am, I’ve arrived, in a still moving vehicle – my body – and discovered this expansive and generative state of consciousness will only continue to exist if I remain totally awake at the wheel of it. No pit stops, no snacks, no peeing. That means totally awake to my own bullshit, and that of others, and totally awake to the abundance and gratitude I have for what I’ve created for myself. My new life. What’s required is to never fall asleep (again) at the wheel. I got here by:

my willingness to ask questions that opened me up
my willingness to be deeply uncomfortable for what felt like an eternity
my willingness to invest lots of money, time, and effort into my own self-discovery and healing
my willingness to lose absolutely everything and everyone, in favor of me, my truth, and my wellbeing

This journey has prepared me for exactly what I’ve always wanted to do since I made that request just out of college. I now facilitate consciousness. It can be a hard sell, who wants a ride on a glop-ridden road? Not many. But for those that choose it – choose themselves – there is no greater reward than arriving at all of you. The ease of having all of you, at the wheel of your own life – in your potency – and true power is a gift that no one can take that from you.

Personal Power Starter Pack

Personal Power Starter Pack 
begins with the six elements of intimacy

Perhaps you’ve heard intimacy is tantamount to sex.
Nah, that ain’t it. True intimacy, the kind you develop with yourself, is in my humble opinion, the source of your personal power.

It took me a very long time to really get this piece of the puzzle. This was largely because I didn’t really have any relationship to and with my personal power. WTF does personal power actually mean anyway? I choose to define personal power as the place where you have ALL of you. It’s the place where you have intimacy with you. You trust you. You honor you. You have allowance or grace for yourself in good and bad times. You have access to your own vulnerability. You are grateful for you. You are kind to yourself and others.

For many of us, our parental figures had no access to their own power due to the stuckness of generational trauma. So, we adult children were left to figure out how to navigate ourselves to this elusive power. Some of us get there, many of us don’t

Trust, honor, allowance (aka grace), vulnerability, gratitude and kindness are the building blocks of intimacy. But choosing the elements of intimacy, over reactivity and volitility, is much easier said than done. Our unconscious reactions: anger, bitterness, resentment, and controlling behaviors are at the top of our emotional toolbox. 

And here’s the kicker. As you develop your relationship with self, and increase the space of intimacy within you – YOU WILL NOT BE REWARDED. See, you having all of you, is a direct threat to anyone who benefits from you disconnected from you. So, as you navigate this, please don’t expect a pat on the back. In fact, expect a whole lot of acting up from the nattering chorus of assholes you have decided to keep close. It’s this chorus of fools that will tell you you are an idiot and that embodying these qualities makes you weak.

Hear me now, and clearly. It’s these people, the ones most threatened by you intimate with you, that are your greatest enemies. They suggest, with absolutely no experience, that you will be taken advantage of. They suggest that you, simply by exhibiting kindness are in alignment with the forces of evil, whoever they’ve determined that to be. They will cut you off wholly and completely for not obeying them – and for choosing you.

I say, keep walking. Create as much distance from these people as possible. Continue to use your awareness and perception to navigate your way to intimacy. Will you be lonely? Sure, some days will be hard. Will you make mistakes and trust the wrong people? You bet! Will you grow wiser over time? Yes to that too.

This folks is a journey worth taking. It’s a magical path where you are at the center of your story. It’s not about getting it right or doing it to perfection. Its about being embodied. It’s about self expression and self trust. It’s about you being in and exploring your full potential which you’ll need your personal power to access.

This is ultimately about you coming into being. And I for one, can’t wait for you to join me here. I’ll put the coffee on.

Feeling powerful

Feeling powerful
it’s a long game

Marge told me of her intention to gift me her yellow house, upon her departure, what feels like a million years ago, maybe 2009. It felt so large, so monumental, that despite my joy upon acknowledging her intention, I have to admit it was tough to integrate. I knew the gift in and of itself, had to do with my becoming. And I also knew, down to my bones, I was in NO WAY prepared to receive this gift and the monumental change required of me – to be worthy of it’s receipt.

And who was I to become? This question was absolutely terrifying to me. It was a void - a total unknown. What would be required of me? What would the journey entail? I know now, in retrospect, the terror was justified. I have literally changed, down to every cell in my body, in the time since. Needless to say, I am profoundly grateful to be on this side of things. To finally – after so much of life shifting and shaping me – to be in my power. 

Hmm…power. We all likely have a conflicted relationship to that word. If you’re like me you’ve often felt yourself on the ass end of it. This looks like being at the mercy of forces beyond your control. It looks like feeling powerless. It looks like being perpetually hurt by the ones that say they love you. It looks like allowing others, usually inferior to you, have a voice in who you are becoming.

And what gets you in your power? Choosing it. 

That’s it. I wish it were a more complicated formula. I wish it were a widget that in pressing the buttons, turning the dials and manuvering the levers you’d get you to that red-hot power position of YOU, all of you. 

But there is no widget. And choosing sounds much easier said than done, right? So, some questions to help jolt you from your pitiful, sad-sack, powerless state:

• Who am I being when I refuse to acknowledge my power?

• What energy, space and consciousness can me and my body be, right now, to feel my power fully and viscerally?

• Who benefits most from my lack of power, in this friendship? In this marriage? In this work experience?

• What future probabilities would be available to me if I chose to acknowledge my power?

This is a good start. Remember, we’re not looking for cognitive answers. Let consciousness have a crack at leading you. You’ve made a big decision just in the asking. 

Need more oompf to set these questions off? A lot of these other practices are helpful too: speaking up, helping and being a value to others, pushing your chest out, standing in a power position – arms outstretched above, legs straddled, speaking aloud and claiming your power, ecstatic dance to empowering music, the love and support of good people (those who don’t judge you). And of course, time. Time, like the distance between 2009 and now, is an amazing balm. Allow that to do it’s gentle work on you too.  As always, here if you need me.

Saving people sucks

Saving people sucks
and it doesn't work 

This has been one of the hardest lessons for me to learn.

If you’ve been a client of mine for a while you probably remember when I’d send lengthy follow-up emails. I would summarize our session then outline the path I suggested you take to find your way to peace and well-being. But that wasn’t before I’d already spent at least a half hour meditating prior to our session. And during our one-hour meeting – giving you my all. Perhaps you detected my longing that you choose peace?

Now, don’t get me wrong. As a service provider, I take what I do very seriously. I’ve given with my whole heart – selflessly! But what I noticed over time is that only about 3% of what I was giving was actually being received. Most folks didn’t appreciate me giving my all. In fact, if I’m being honest, I wasn’t “saving” anyone. And I was aware, that in some cases, what I was Giving (capital G intended) was actually resented. That 97%, despite wanting the change that they had come to me seeking, were in fact, actively rejecting the change they said they longed for. 

Why is that? Well, it’s complicated…and it’s here that I ask you to reflect on your own life. Have you ever given a gift to someone that you were so excited to share – only to detect resistance from the receiver? Feels kind of familiar right? Basically it’s the same dynamic at play. 

Giving and receiving is a balancing act. Most folks are excellent givers. We know how to be in the upper position – the control position – of gifting. It’s easy. Receiving on the other hand is WAY more difficult. It’s as it we’re automatically on the defense. We’re calculating what is required of us, what transaction we need to employ, before we actually receive said gift. And that’s really what it boils down to. What is required – to change – is more chew then most folks are willing to bite off. It’s infinitely easier to give up, get angry at yourself, and abandon you.

See, change, true change requires you to Choose, capital C intended. Choosing you, choosing whatever change you are gunning for, is a massive commitment. Sometimes you have to remind yourself of what you’re choosing 80 times a day, lest you fall of the wagon.

And where does that leave me? The over-Giver? Well, it means that when I over-give, what I am actually being is a controlling cow. Yes, that’s right, a Class-A Controlling twat. What’s worse is that the longing I’ve had to produce change for resistant clients and loved ones has ended up dynamically screwing me from the boomerang effect. YES, I can both emotionally and physically alleviate your suffering by taking it on myself! Cute, eh? Not so much.

So, I’ve learned my lesson. I now know to stay in my lane. I give, A LOT and I’m learning to stop and let people receive what they can from our exchanges. I’m a recovering selflessness addict. Can I invite you to recovery too?

Drugs, alcohol and addiction (oh my!)

Drugs, alcohol and addiction
miseries layaway plan

It's so strange to me that I've been surrounded by addicts my entire life. Because they were closeted in their behaviors the effects on me were cognitively unknown yet quite visceral in their presentation in my body, through disease. Years and years of seeing doctors, of shaking proverbial tea leaves to discern what was wrong with Me, when it was never me after all.

I also learned something else, all of the suffering I experienced was actually a superhero capacity. I learned that my body is aware and displays symptoms and sensations when it's experiencing an awareness. It's not a linear understanding but if I stay in a state of questioning, I'll arrive at a knowing of who those sensations belong to. They are never, ever mine.

And that's the bad or perhaps good news, when something isn't yours you can not fix it - full stop. You can only be aware. Magically though, when acknowledged that something isn't yours, the condition or symptom will lift - as if by magic.

Now how does this square with living within the self-abusive domain of the addict? Well, it means when someone chooses to lead a life of shame, secrets, and denial - through addiction, they are, in fact, imposing it on you too. The abuse of self becomes an abuse of the entire family system. And if you're young, blind, kind, and idealistic, you're doomed to go down the road with them. 

In the 12-step world the counterweight to the addiction groups, the family support group, Al-ANON, suggests that these partner qualities help solidify the addict’s choices. They maintain that our kindness and idealism are part of the problem. Interesting and convenient, huh? 

Now if you are a typical Al-ANON member, you come from a system of addiction in your family of origin. This means you will seek to duplicate that childhood experience in your future relationships. So, from that vantage point, Al-ANON ain't wrong.  We love our addicts, right? We want to support them, right? We want to live without conflict, yah? It’s this formula that solidifies miseries lay-away-plan. But make no mistake. I part with Al-ANON quite significantly and lay the responsibility on the addict who made the choice to deceive. We co-dependent, anxiously attached spouses and children play supporting roles. We may come from systems of abuse, but we are not responsible for it. No way. No how.

I've found that there's only one way out, and that is to facilitate my own consciousness by:
• Asking questions. 
• Unabashedly choosing to put myself first. 
• Giving up "saving" anyone. 
• Being brutally honest with myself, and being brutally honest about how others in my life are operating as well. 

And what about the addict? You can put that concern down now. They have the benefit of knowing their lies. You're at the deficit of having to figure it out blind. They'll chose the light of consciousness in their own time. Or they won't. And none of that is yours anymore. It never was yours to begin with.

Need help turning your lights on? You know where to find me.

Right for clients

Right for clients
wrong for me

When going through this breakup my second most nagging thought I had was: OMG, what will my clients think? Followed by, How this would affect my business?

Perhaps you’ve heard the adage before, that psychics are right for clients and wrong for themselves. I had never lived through this principle so viscerally till this year. There’s enormous truth in it. See, when you’re living your own trauma and drama, you can’t see the forest through the trees. While working with clients, while I care for them enormously, I’m not at the effect of their choices or the choices of their loved ones which in turn effect them. I have no risk in the outcomes. Thus, I am clear-eyed. But, the lens on myself? Yeah, that can be quite cloudy.

Why? Because psychics have needs, wants, yearnings, the desire to be right, and oh so much more crap that we create for ourselves. It’s all these factors that help the psychic to turn off their own awareness and self-knowing. These wants and yearnings are the seeds of the fantasies and self-limiting lies that we perpetrate on ourselves. And while I’ve demonstrated an unwavering commitment to becoming less cloudy - less stupid - I too am not above trying to tip the scales in the favor of my own crafted fantasies.

And there you have it. Psychics are human, with a dash of the supernatural.

The antidote to this is the same medicine I preach to you all weekly.
• Be unafraid to be brutally honest with yourself.
• Acknowledge what I know, be, receive and perceive.
• For the whispers of awareness that do pop into my consciousness, ask: Is this mine?

These tools are just some of the starting places I now have the gift of facilitating myself back to. Acknowledging the gift of what is. Acknowledging reality. And reality is always a gift, but only if we’re willing to receive it.

Acknowledging Everything

Acknowledging Everything
and living without subtext

We all do it. Hell, I just did a 25-year stint of it. It can be called a lot of things:
• Chosen ignorance
• A commitment to stupidity 
• Putting your head in the sand

What it boils down to is this. You know. You don't not know. The problem is that awareness comes in a variety of ways.
• we'll get a whisper in our ears
• flashes of insight that come and go as fast as lightning
• our bodies scream at us with one problem or another

Hell, I've had scenes from childhood that randomly pop into my awareness at semi-regular intervals. Only later did I put together that that was a pivot point of childhood trauma. Those "random" popping scenes were my body’s way of saying, hey could you spare a minute for me?

If left unattended, all of these bits and bobs of awareness become like a garbage barge floating through your consciousness. And the little bits of detritus that make it off that barge? Say hello to your disease: depression, anxiety, cancer, and so so much more! 

But you know what we all do. We distract. We've got responsibilities to attend to. We're off and running and the avenue to self-understanding closes, till next time. So we keep busy. Sometimes busy for entire lifetimes to avoid the pain of knowing. 

You know, that I know all about that.

More big picture, we've been trained out of listening, looking, and trusting. Literally conditioned by this reality to trust family, friends, and the government before believing in ourselves. Now I'm not a big conspiracy theorist, but given what I know now, it is concerning. The forces that would rather us not know, to not keep our own council, are immense. 

But the antidote isn't to try to change family, friends, or government. Trust me I've attended enough manipulative and dare I say abusive family therapy sessions and social protests to know how futile those efforts are [not that all protest and therapy is ineffective!]. The more effective route for self-trust is to ignore all the noise and center you. Can you believe you? Can you trust you above all else? 

I hope you can.

What I Don’t Care About

What I Don’t Care About
your thoughts, feelings & emotions

And I’ll also add: your points of view, I don’t much care for any of those either. 

Does this feel like it hits a little hard? Let me clarify. Last week I slipped a phrase in my newsletter, the term “infinite being”. It’s the best language I have to capture what you and I actually are. You, are consciousness, and as such you have no beginning or end. In the space of consciousness, everything - absolutely everything - exists. It’s soup to nuts rainbows all the way to pedophiles! I know, I know, that’s something you don’t want to consider, but when you wrap your mind around the fact that we live in a polarized, everything-exists (like it or not) world, it gets a little bit easier to navigate. Then true choice can come from a space of total awareness. We can also choose where we want to show up within this reality system – or decide whether or not we show up at all.

Now begin to contemplate what being an infinite being might actually mean to you. In my world, it means I’m basically a walking, talking weather system. I am aware of most everything I need to be aware of. I am free to be who I am. I trust my perceptions and I can receive absolutely everything – even what I conclude as “good” and everything I conclude as “bad”. 

Acknowledging myself as an infinite being also means I’ve had to get really real with myself about my own pontifying mind. Becoming an excellent observer of thought has lightened my load considerably (thank you meditation). And from there I came to the realization that once my own mind was managed, my ability to perceive what other people were thinking, feeling and emoting skyrocketed. And of course, as an empath, I also became subject to what was going on in their physical bodies. It wasn’t but a short leap to the conclusion that our thoughts, feelings and emotions are just noise. That’s right – I am disrespecting your thoughts, feelings and emotions. And I’ll challenge you to consider that 1) The thoughts, feelings and emotions that you hold dear aren’t yours at all. An antidote? Ask, Is this mine? And 2) Your thoughts, feelings and emotions are not your identity nor are they important to your being. In fact, without your thoughts feelings and emotions, who could you be? What could you accomplish? The possibilities are endless.

So, what do I care about? I care about what lights you up. I care about what you are creating. I care about what you are grateful for. I care about your art. I care about your pets and loved ones, I care about what you’re exploring. I care about what and who you actually are, underneath the heaviness of your thoughts, feelings and emotions. 

There, take that thoughts, feelings and emotions. xo

A Little Bit Broken

A Little Bit Broken
a story about all of us

Shadow work is all the crap you’ve decided is too hard to metabolize, look at, deal with or change. Or if you’re like me, you’re in such deep denial, you don’t even hold the slightest idea or awareness of what needs to change. And why are we reaching for change? So that we can get everything we want?! Am I right?

This phrase: A little bit broken, used to bang around in my head over the last ten years. I joked that it would be the title of my memoir. But who wants to identify as broken? Not me, not any more at least. And if you’ve ever visited me, that’s something you’ve likely been trying to change too.

Being broken, feeling broken, identifying as broken – is a lie. We may experience sensations such as having been throttled, cracked, burned, poked and prodded. We may be or have been legitimately abused. But is it true that we’re broken? Do infinite beings ever break? Nope, not in my experience, not ever.

So, what is the antidote? We begin to uncover some over arching, gleaming and transcendent qualities that we possess. Better yet, we begin to make dynamic lists of these attributes. 

What is unbreakable about me? 

How muthafucking special am I - really? 

What is so unique about the quality of my very being?

Universe, what is great about me?

We make these questions our starting point. If nothing comes and you can’t fill the page, fear not. Simply stick with asking the questions daily. When you ask a question the entire universe is chomping at the bit to answer you. Conversely, when you come to a conclusion (I’m a little bit broken), nothing that doesn’t match that conclusion can surface.

Can you give yourself the grace and patience to hang tight while it readies itself for you? Can you be kind to you? I do hope so. You loving and appreciating you is the gift we’ve all been waiting for.

How to Facilitate Your Own Miracles

How to Facilitate Your Own Miracles
the fast track version

Good people, it took me a solid 10 years to get to the root of my own health issues. To my credit, I was tenacious. I knew intuitively not to stop at whatever the doctors were saying. I knew it didn’t make sense that I’d been healthy for the first half  of my life and that turning 40 should not have completely upended me. So, I began to dig and I’ve shared with you, in the last 6 weeks or so, the evolution of what transpired.

It’s been a lot.

So, to distill it all down, let’s look at how this process may apply to you. How many of us are legitimately looking to make change? We say we want it, but secretly we avoid taking the action or doing the work necessary to facilitate the change we so desperately desire. Now, I know, for folks reading this, many of you are willing to do the necessary shadow work. And more then a few of us are less then jazzed at the prospect of looking under those shadowey covers. I have no judgment either way. We’ll all get where we’re going in due time.

But, if time is of the essence, I suggest following these steps below. You can focus on one line per week. That should be enough. Repeat the question or statement of kindness to yourself every morning and let it work on you. Feel free to rephrase them so they make sense for you and your life circumstances. You’re not looking for a cognitive responses, but rather you’re inviting new awarenesses as they come. Most importantly, remember to not judge you in any thing that bubbles up. The simple act of observing is valuable enough to facilitate change in most cases. And when necessary to facilitate your miracle, you’ll also get impulses for new choices to make.

Finally, have courage. All change, even the change we so desperately want, usually comes at a price. And, more often then not, the price, be it the beginning or ending of something, is shrouded in fear. Once we traverse the fear and not give it more power then its worth, we gain momentum and inch closer to our miracle. As always, I’m here if you need me.

Ask: What have I been avoiding knowing that if I knew it would facilitate a miracle? 

Ask: What have I been avoiding being that if I were to be it would facilitate a miracle? 

Ask: What have I been avoiding perceiving that if I were to allow for the perception would facilitate a miracle? 

Ask: What have I been not allowing that if I were to receive it would facilitate a miracle? 

Ask: As a compassionate observer, befriend your disease, abusive relationship or environment. Then, ask: What is this experience keeping you from? What do you get out of this?

Kindness to you: Release the need for timing

Kindness to you: Release the need for knowing how it’s all going to turn out.

Kindness to you and others: Release all judgments of yourself and others. Destroy all tallies and records of wrongs that you are keeping.

Kindness to you: Be 1000% willing to lose absolutely everything (yes, including your kids, your spouse and your home)

Bitch I’ve been trying to tell you!

Bitch I’ve been trying to tell you
my body’s voice to me

As a child empath, I was the family healer and peacemaker. In this role, you’re simultaneously loved and hated for it. It’s the ultimate catch-22. The thing about being an empath is that you experience every ding dang thing that those close to you are experiencing, both psychologically and physically. It may be blunted a bit, and not as intense as how the originally afflicted person is feeling it, but trust me when I tell you – my body is AWARE and mirroring. 

An easy peasy example of this? Last fall my husband was complaining about a knee pain that had been plaguing him for months. His progress reports repeated for a few days. In the midst of this, I noticed that my right knee started to ache when I walked downstairs. This continued for 3 days till I had the presence to ask: “Is this knee pain mine?”. With that, my husband flashed before my internal eye, and magically and instantly the pain disappeared. Viola. (please try this at home!)

Now, how does this square with the unfolding trauma of my marriage and separation? Well, this is where the rubber meets the proverbial road. This is where generational trauma and adult onset trauma meet, meld and become symptoms.

As I mentioned in the past, I did not have an even-steven, smooth, safe, and drama-free early development phase. Filling out the ACE test, was key to figuring out that some of my physical symptoms tracked with childhood trauma. On a scale of 5, I score a 4, which pretty much guaranteed that I’d have some form of lagging physical illness that correlated to said trauma.

But here’s the kicker. The ACE score only reflects what we consciously know about our histories. And what I’ve learned the hard way is that I’ve been molded, in ways large and small, by silence. It’s not what we see and hear that shapes us, it's everything implicit – everything silent that determines our life course. It shapes our physical bodies and to whom we choose to have relationships and so much more.

This shaping includes all the secrets, lies, closeted sexualities, and addictions we think are hidden, the infidelities, the children out of wedlock and never acknowledged, the secret families, it’s the shame of domestic violence, sexual assaults never mentioned nor investigated, it’s the forced births – the babies – held in our bodies – and never acknowledged because the disassociation between body and mind was so complete. And ALL OF THIS is what we call family, held together by the viscous glue of fear, shame, and unconsciousness.

As we mature, we then choose partners based on this familiarity. The familiarity of what’s conscious and unconscious unite to create a powder keg. As a next-level empath, it meant that by 40 years old I had a raging, five-alarm fire in my body, with no clear means of putting it out.

It meant that I was guaranteed to pick a mate that modeled ALL of the secrets, lies, and addictions that afflict my father. It meant that my family's commitment to silence, commitment to their shame, and unconsciousness showed up, as circumstantial evidence, in my body. And it’s that unconsciousness that’s particularly dynamic. Because when someone, in this case, me, attempts to set out to save their own lives, by tipping over every table of shame and lies, we’re met with heaps of gaslighting, rejection, judgment, distorted intimacy, projection, psychological abuse, control, and so much more! 

Ain’t family fun?!

And now here’s the kicker…the last remaining “symptoms” I’d been managing for 10 solid years: hypothyroidism, adrenal insufficiency and tanked sex hormones suddenly and with little fanfare, came to a conclusion. In the days just after my husband's broad, long-standing infidelities came to light, I got super effing manic. I was practically vibrating and speaking in tongues. At first, I thought I was having a very strange stress reaction. Then it occurred to me that these manic symptoms were evidence of overmedication. And, just like that, I stopped taking my thyroid and adrenal medication. My body, with a few more weeks into this unfolding, is doing fantastically. And as you can imagine, I am OVER THE MOON to be in complete and total health and well-being. And more importantly, I am so damn proud of myself for facilitating my body's second sudden remission.

I am now sparkling and whole, no trace of chronic illness left. The cost of a complete and total understanding of how my body and I work, in this reality system, was a very high price to pay. But in the words of the inimitable Maya Angelou, I “Wouldn't take nothing for my journey now.” And here's the thing about bodies. THEY ARE NEVER WRONG. They are the very avatar that points to the truth within all the lies that you are steeped. Should you find yourself dealing with any similar traumas and dramas, please check out these resources.

Find out your ACE score:
https://americanspcc.org/take-the-aces-quiz/

Are you the family or friend of someone struggling with sex and or porn addiction?
https://sanon.org/

Are you yourself struggling with sex and or porn addiction?
https://saa-recovery.org/

My broken picker

My broken picker
my part, my responsibility, the hard truths

(TW: this weeks newsletter discusses rape and sexual violence.)

Last week I unpacked the “evidence” that spelled the end of my marriage. I exposed how getting honest with myself, about what I knew and what I didn’t has helped me be clear eyed. But having clarity isn’t the only aim. My aim is to see, own and metabolize my part in all this. After all, a marriage is made of two people. And as tempting as it is to blame the end of a marriage entirely on a cheating spouse, it’s simply not accurate, truthful or fair.

Next week I’ll unpack in greater detail how a person’s “picker” gets broken. The picker being what you use to determine the biggest decision of your life – to whom will you marry? It’s super loaded and complicated, but in the days after all of this came to light, I did another reflection on all of the relationships and traumatic experiences I could recall. Here goes:

At 15 years old I was in a coercive relationship with my first boyfriend. He told me that he had cancer in an effort to get me to sleep with him.

At 16, I fell in love hard. I came to learn, over the course of our 2.5 year relationship, that he made a play for my best friend while I was out of town. I was so “in love” I stayed with him – without confronting, without so much as getting mad. I also strongly suspected him of being closeted and bisexual – but I had no “proof”.

In the summer of my 16th year, my two girlfriends and I went to a party. There were five boys, to the three of us and there was Everclear. When one of my best friends disappeared for a bit I later found her, completely blacked out, with one of the boys next to her, sexually assaulting her. I stopped him. She went to the hospital the next day and got a rape kit. I lost my voice but not before I gave a grand jury testimony as to what happened that night. He was never held accountable. 

In college I met a bad boy. He partied too hard – he was an addict who came from a lot of abuse. He did 12 hits of acid in one night and took more then six months to regulate from that experience, he got kicked out. I housed him on campus where he ramped up his crazy, his addiction and then pivoted to both verbal and physical abuse of me and my room mates. 

And then I got married.

So, I’ve been with liars and cheats my entire life. So, why did I choose them? Well apparently being surrounded by secrets, lies and closeted addiction created the blueprint for the shaping of my broken “picker”. Now, I know that I am in no way responsible for my husbands fidelity, nor am I responsible for the lack of safety I experienced as a child. But I was and am responsible for cleaning up how I was shaped then and how that affects my relationships moving forward. 

Due to the childhood trauma I became hard wired to fear sex. Of course I loved intimacy, closeness and also loved physical sex, but I had a metric ton of fear. I knew all too well that the secrets and lies which rotted so much of my family could potentially rot me too, and those were just the ones I knew about. And if I could simply keep sex, the exploration, any kink and most certainly all the sexual empowerment at bay – maybe – just maybe, I’d be safe. 

So, there it is, I cut myself off. And in relationship, all of the self exploration I should have had, could have done, got shuttled to my husband’s column of responsibility. No, not fair to him, or to either of us.

Next week I talk about the MASSIVE breakthrough my body has had in the midst of this, it’s really good stuff. Stay tuned.

The 10 year trial Conclusion

The 10 year trial Conclusion
how could I not know? (I’m psychic ffs!)

Two years ago we went to Puerto Rico. It was our first trip post-pandemic. I let the kids know by buying each of them a new piece of carry-on luggage. We’d all lugged through the pandemic and this was just what the doctor ordered. Lots of sun, fun, good food, and rest.

I’d hoped, my husband and I were in step. I’d hoped this was a re-kindling of sorts. We kissed a lot. We took lots of cute pictures, creating hope-filled images. We were intimate in a way that I always longed for and asked for. I continued to hope that this surge of intimate energy would pervade our bedroom and our lives in the time to come. After years of 24/7 relentless parenting, and care of neighbors and friends through the pandemic, the gruel that is chronic illness…this could be it, this could be Our Time.

But, alas, hope is not reality. Hope is what we do to stay in a self-constructed fantasy. Hope is what we create so we can ignore our awareness of what actually is. I was completely, totally, and irrevocably invested in this fantasy. I didn’t know, cognitively, that it wasn’t the truth. I didn’t know to acknowledge what wasn’t working. I didn’t know to acknowledge that a one-off vacation would not make up for decades of a dead bedroom. I was so feverishly caring for others, for years, that I had no idea to acknowledge me.

In the two weeks after the truth of my husband's lies, secrets, and double life were revealed I pivoted pretty quickly to myself. What did I know and when did I know it? I sat myself down for a thorough accounting. It was not comfortable. What I could acknowledge is that I had about 4 pieces of hard evidence: out-of-character behavior, videos, photographs, and sex toys that I found that never seemed to make it into our bedroom. My discovery of the toys didn’t show up till the very end gratefully. He temperamental behavior? He was above self-reflection. And the hard evidence, when confronted, he unsurprisingly lied about their origin. And when you’ve got a home, three kids, chronic illness, and are financially dependent upon your spouse for shelter and healthcare, you chose belief over awareness and carry on, naturally.

But the mental accounting exercise didn’t end there. 

There was more, a great deal more. By the end of it, I forced myself to reckon with 44 other suspicions. They didn’t all track to: Your Husband is a Lying, Cheating Piece of Shit. No, these were much more subtle and insidious. These were the types of suspicions that have you doubting you. Suspicions that take you out of your own knowing. It’s these suspicions that I seemed to tolerate so well. I suspect it’s because the thinking mind never holds more than three suspicions at a time, thereby making it much easier to deny the rest. Ah yes, the mind of the abused is a wicked co-conspirator of the abuser.

So, could I have put it all together if I’d had the courage to do so? Sure, I suppose. But I know in my heart how incredibly unlikely that was. I was a true believer! I had hope! Ultimately though, what I was all too willing to ignore was my own sex and intimacy needs. And that is the hardest most tender and vulnerable truth, that I abandoned me.

Next week I’ll begin to unpack the reasons why.

The 10 Year Trial Build Up

The 10 Year Trial Build Up
began nearly 25 years ago

About 4 months before I met my husband to be I was forlorned. I wanted so badly to be partnered with an amazing spouse. To have kids. To build a home and get on with my life. In that dark hour, feeling so lonely and sad, I got a premonition (which simply sounded like my own voice in my head) that I wanted to find a guy that would bring me flowers every week. I remember feeling a mental hiccup with this, as I had never much cared for romantic gestures before. 

Fast forward, those four months and we were introduced by a mutual friend. When I locked eyes with him, over the cafeteria lunch table (so sexy!), a bolt of lightening ran through my body. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling, but it was a cascade of energy that I’d never experienced before or since. Sadly I didn’t have the tools to ask questions of that energy at the time.

So, at 28 years old, I naturally trusted and followed whatever magic I thought that was. I bought the premonition too, that he would bring flowers – which he did, and we were well on our way to matrimony. We were family planning (three kids!) by our third date. It must be destiny, right?

I met his family. I spilled a glass of water, I was so nervous. As we left his family home, his mother and a neighbor sang old Neapolitan tunes on the front stoop. And that was it – I was a goner. What fantasy story adapted for the silver screen had I just entered? 

He bought me a beautiful engagement ring, platinum with a yellow gold accent. We went to Italy for vacation and bought our wedding bands abroad. They didn’t have bands that matched my engagement ring exactly, so we bought an alternative. A white gold band with a yellow gold accent. Our jeweler cautioned us though. He told us that these were intended to be anniversary bands, and not for newlyweds. Bah humbug I thought – who needs to conform to convention?

Then about a year ago I looked at my husband while he was sleeping. I finally allowed myself to wonder what he might have to do with all the health problems I’d experienced over the last 10 years. I was finally willing to ask THAT question. 

We had made it, by the skin of our teeth, through the pandemic, which seemed a miracle. But our post pandemic recovery wasn’t what I’d hoped it would be. We’d had two cataclysmic, totally out of character, fights, these were two strikes on him. He literally appeared as a different, vicious, mean-spirited person in these moments. I wondered, what and with whom was I dealing? 

In the weeks leading up to this last trial I had been on a business call with a couple of friends. We were strategizing how we could propagate the world (or at least NYC) with consciousness. In the middle of making a point, I gesticulated with my hands, flinging them outward. With that whip of a gesture, my wedding band flew from my left hand and onto the floor. That’s awfully curious I thought, knowing full well that it was an ominous sign.

Then our kids, despite making it through covid home schooling for two tortuous years, were back in school. And while they had some good days, all three of them seemed to be struggling through this winter. One of our kids in particular, was in a level of trouble and trauma that needed us, as parents, to be SUPER conscious and present. Such is the business of saving your kids life.

It was in the midst of this parental nightmare that the third strike occurred. My husband made the very last flip and hurtful comment that I was willing to receive. And with that I delivered a letter to him, outlining my separation. In it I referenced what I’d known to be true. The feeling that I no longer knew him. The out of character fights. And finally, I confronted the sexual secrets I knew he was keeping, based on the scant evidence I discovered over the previous year.

What unfolded from there, was the completely predictable and unremarkable truth. My husband had not for one minute, hour or day ever been faithful to me over our 25 year relationship. The revelations were eye popping and stomach churning. It wasn’t the simple porn addiction I'd hoped it might be. It was a tale, sordid, tortuous, self hating and painful beyond measure. He admitted that he was a sex addict.

And so I left.

More next week.

(correction: last week I mentioned we were married 25 yrs. Incorrect, we dated and were engaged for 2 years and married for 23 this coming May)

The beginning of the 10-year trial

The beginning of the 10-year trial
a knock on the head

March 19, 2011, was a supermoon. It’s called a supermoon when it’s at perigee, the closest point to Earth in its orbit. It’s also the date that I gave birth to my youngest child. His arrival came on the heels of premonitions I had about his name which means moon. Despite having this premonition, this kid came with his own POVs and oooh so much attitude! All I could muster as an exhausted new again parent was the lament: why couldn’t the third baby be my easiest baby?  I soldiered on. 

In a sweet moment, that first year, I was breastfeeding him, snuggled on our big master bed. The room was quiet and filled with beautiful light. After feeding him we both drifted off. Then, out of nowhere, I felt a rap on my head. It was the kind of heavy-handed thud a friend who knows you well (and can get away with) would do as they crept up from behind you. My eyes snapped open. My eyes darted around the room, where did that come from? Who did that?

There was no answer.

I thought, HEY now - maybe this means I’m enlightened! But that idea was quickly dislodged by the sinking feeling that I, in no way, felt any more unburdened or wise than I had the previous 5 minutes. (as if experiencing enlightenment is the equivalent of instant wisdom and unburdened life circumstance - but that’s for another newsletter!).

Sadly, what unfolded from that point on is what I call the trial. 

The trial picked up significant steam in 2013 and since then I managed a cascade of relentless health problems. My sex hormones tanked, my thyroid & adrenals crashed, and seemingly overnight I became super sensitive to light, sound, drink and foods that I’d once enjoyed. 

The collection of illnesses I was now managing presented a string of devastating symptoms. Heart palpitations, shortness of breath, inability to cope with minor stresses, nervousness and anxiety were constant, night sweats, panic attacks, substantial weight gain, flushing or the inability to retain fluids, low blood pressure, blackouts, fatigue, depression, multiple skin cancer leisions and of course, my dear friend, insomnia. As you can imagine, I did not leave the house much.

A huge kick in the teeth was that, along the way, I broke down and asked my doctor for something ANYTHING to help me sleep. They prescribed a benzodiazepine. And thus began a 2.5-year dependence on that helluva drug. Which was then followed by protracted withdrawal symptoms – which were way worse than the original symptoms I was attempting to eliminate. 

The best way I can capture the trial with words is that I felt like an orchestra conductor. But I was a conductor thrust into a spotlight – having never picked up a musical instrument in my life. Doctors (so many doctors!) were at a total loss, as was I.

Simply existing became a chore. Ironically, I thought, I’ll get all this symptom stuff figured out in 6 months, ha!

By 2018 I had found my way to a brain training program that helped me calm down the reactivity of my nervous system. I worked this program as if my entire life depended on it. In two and a half years, I would say I made a 70% improvement. Ah! Now I was finally cooking!

But what about that other 30%? Why was I still carrying around these symptoms like an albatross? Finally, I zeroed in on the skin cancer I’d been managing. And with the tools of Access Consciousness, I experienced a spontaneous remission. Like the recovery with the brain training program, it felt like a miracle. So I kept working the tools. For the most part, though, I felt like I was flying completely blind.

Then 2 things happened in the last year. First, I attended an Access class last spring. When I got up to ask a question about my relationship with my husband, I waxed on about him. What a great guy he is! My facilitator replied: What is it about your partner that you are making so perfect, that if you were not doing ‘perfection’ and were willing to actually know everything, would change all future probabilities and outcomes? Whoah, she gave me a monster of a mental wedgie. But, I must know everything about him, right? We’ve been married for 25 years right? I AM psychic, right?

A few months after that class, I was having yet another bad night, I looked over at my sleeping husband and tought...Huh, I wonder if he’s connected to my insomnia? This was the first time I pivoted in his direction and asked a question related to all the suffering of the last ten years.

What other questions could I ask that would facilitate my awareness? (hint – a lot) More next week.

My 10-year Trial

My 10-year Trial
and the conclusion of a cycle

Oh, dear reader. I hardly know where to begin.
As you know by now I use my own life, my fodder, to turn the wheels of this newsletter. I do so because the discoveries I’ve made, my hard-won truths and realizations, and the wisdom I’ve gained appear universal in their application. I hope that, in sharing, I can spare you at least an eighth of the traumas and dramas I’ve experienced. I do so, also, to dispel any notion that I am somehow apart from you. I bleed. I hurt. I know physical and emotional pain quite viscerally. 

The last ten years of my life have been nothing short of devastating, yet also miraculous. As for miracles, in my work with clients, we have achieved the impossible. I’ve known things about your lives that I should not know and hopefully given you valuable insight. I’ve facilitated miracles for your bodies, that as the rules of this reality dictate, I should not have had the capacity to perform.

Concurrent with the miracles has been an undeniable energy of “stripping away” in my personal life. A not so gentle removal of people, places, and things that have not been for my highest good. 

Ten years ago this journey began when I dared to know that my 17-year corporate career had come to an end. I was terrified. What would become of me? How would I support my 3 kids, the 2 mortgages, 5 cats, and my 20-year-old car? I’ve often referred to this time in my life as stepping out onto thin air. It seems the only appropriate metaphor.

After that season I came to terms with the fact that my “friends” were not friends so much as they were people who wanted me to affirm things about them. Or worse, they were out-and-out liars, folks who pretended not to remember I was psychic and gaslighted me to my face. I let them all go.

Then there is the tangled web of generational trauma. At root were lies, addictions, and secrets in which my very young life was shaped. It’s these weights, that my body has carried most heavily via long-term chronic illness, depression, anxiety, and poor decision-making. This all culminated in 2018 when a season of adult-onset trauma began. My relentless pursuit of physical healing and my commitment to being me (no matter what!) brought a conclusion to some of my closest familial relationships. To say I was rattled would be an understatement. But my body – my guide brought me out of that fire with renewed vigor.

And now another chapter of change is upon me. It will take me some time to unpack it all over the coming weeks. Baby steps and walking gingerly are the order of the day. And roller skating. Lots and lots of rollerskating. In the meantime, I’m taking some time off. It’s time to be quiet for a bit. I’ll get back to doing readings sometime in May and I’m available for energy work and classes in the meantime.

Wishing you all a beautiful spring.

A Fool on wheels

A Fool on wheels
Skating into joy

So now that you are better acquainted with your being, knowing, receiving and perceiving – I need to let you in on a very big secret. Drumroll: your body has an awful lot to do with your being, knowing, receiving, and perceiving. 

Before I deep dive, let's first decipher what I mean by You. The “you” we generally think of as us is our mind. Mind is the sum total of the thoughts, feelings and emotions we experience. 

Now I invite you to consider that your body is a whole other entity. Your body is imprinted by the sum total of these thoughts, feelings, and emotions. Science calls this neuroplasticity. 

Now, let's dive into the stand-alone, wholly miraculous awareness that is your sensate body. Given the journey I've been on with my body I know viscerally how my body is impacted by thoughts, feelings, and emotions. What was more of a mystery to me was acknowledging that my body as a whole organ, had its own POV. 

Here's an example…a friend gave me some financial advice about a year ago. Initially, I got very excited by it. I attended a seminar on the subject and it's safe to say I was titillated. Then I proceeded to open about 15 browser windows so I could do further research. Weeks went by and I could never seem to open my wallet and put money into it. Eventually, the titillation gave way and my excitement fizzled out. Conversely, a different investment opportunity came up, and I observed myself getting my wallet, pulling my plastic, and with complete ease, making a large purchase. It's as if my body carried out the actions before my thinking mind could hem-haw and object.

In another realm, I'm learning to apply this to how I move my body. I recently took up roller skating and I'm in love. It's fluid, it's fun, the disco music makes my whole body hum, what could be better?! Welp, as I've practiced I've had a few injuries. Each and every time I went down it was preceded by a ping, a flare, a “knowing” that I should stop, pause or not practice that day. Did I listen? Nope. Has not listening kept me apart from what I really love doing? Yup. Am I committed to being a better listener of me? You betcha.

Now I’m beginning to understand that if I really want to achieve whatever it is that I'm going for I would be well advised to ask my body for its input. It's as simple as Hey body, what do you know about this opportunity? Hey body, how would you like to move? What would you like to wear? What would you like to eat? And on and on. If you start to play with this (and play is best), I wonder what you could learn from your sweet body?

No Right, no wrong

No Right, no wrong
choose, then choose again

I had a meeting with someone recently that was stuck. The rock and a hard place they'd created for themselves was becoming a vice grip and decisions needed to be made. 

I'm very deliberate when I say “they created” because a thousand other choices could have been made along the way so as not to end up in that tight grip, but they let the clock run out. They refused their own knowing and awareness to the point that they were up to their necks. And the water was rising.

It's a cute trick that I know from personal experience. The thing is, we usually do this when we've abandoned ourselves. We've made someone, something, or someplace greater than us. We do this to not upset the apple cart. We do this because we’re committed to remaining small. And we mostly do this to entertain ourselves with trauma and drama. Getting freaked out makes life worth living, am I right?

What they were most concerned about was not making the “wrong” decision. And what defines wrong? 

• Causing other people pain and discomfort, (the antidote: make yourself wrong continually so they feel comfort)

• Knowing and perceiving more than you “should” know, (the antidote: dumbing yourself down, ignoring precious information, and generally denying your knowing/perceiving) 

• Being genuinely happy (antidote: make yourself do as everyone else does: suffer, judge, and delight in misery, then you’ll fit in!)

So they were functioning on a tightrope. So practiced was their self-denial that they genuinely had no idea how to satisfy themselves, much less navigate the mess they’d created. In a situation like this, there's only one thing you can do. Make a choice. When making a choice I always suggest going for whatever makes you perceive space and lightness over heaviness. “Right” and “wrong” are lies of this reality that help keep us locked into the looping outlined above. And heavy choices create more heaviness in the world. 

The only problem is, we’re so programmed by the fear of getting it wrong, we let the clock run out and then blame the clock. Aren’t we cute? So, do you need help with some of this de-programming of rightness and wrongness? You know where to find me.