Category: Identity

Posted on in Healing, Identity, Spirituality

Blooming with Deep Roots

Envision a beautiful flower; a deep, radiant shade of purple, with sturdy, full petals, a thick, hearty stem, and roots reaching deep into the soil, able to withstand any storm. See it as a plump bud being kissed by the springtime sun. As the rainy season ends, the sun comes close and wraps it’s light all around, nudging it to awaken. The petals take a deep breathe, opening wide, falling against one another, in a magnificent display of beauty, resilience, and purpose. A flower may blossom many times as it grows, starting to unfurl and showing glimpses of what it someday will be. Then, when fully developed and in its prime, that flower will bloom and fulfil it’s purpose of supporting life, creating new life, and bringing pleasure to the world around it.

The analogy of blooming with deep roots is one that resonates with me and my spiritual journey. In this season, I am blooming, fully rooted, resilient, and ready to fulfil my purpose. It was around 12 years ago that I began working as a spiritual coach and mentor. This preceded my start as a counselor and therapist, and ultimately, it’s what I came back to. Over the past 20 years, I have had mentors of my own from a variety of backgrounds and viewpoints. I have learned to value diversity of opinion and admire the way that many sources confirm the same truths. As a child, I was raised in a variety of religious settings rooted in Christianity. Even at a young age, I had evident spiritual gifts; knowledge, discernment of spirits, dreams/prophecy, and healing. As I have gone through my life journey, I have come to understand my gifts and embrace my potential. In fact, I love helping others to find their passions and live out their purpose as well.

I’ve learned that there are many names for the same things, depending on the culture that is defining it. You might accept that I’ve had prophetic dreams and spiritual knowledge, or you might understand it as clairvoyance, extrasensory perception, or say that I am an Empath. Any of those descriptions are accurate to what I experience. Regardless of the semantics, I have been using my spiritual gifts to help others for many years. I’ve helped people navigate their shadows and overcome trauma. I’ve facilitated physical and emotional healing. I’ve given guidance through deep processing, providing insight, and building up confidence through encouragement because of what I perceive. I’ve found a variety of tools to be helpful and as a lifelong student, I believe in sharing from an abundance of resources that provide support beyond my connection with someone.

I meet with people in dark places, in uncertainty, and with needs that require a kind of intimate knowing to grow through. We thrive in connection. We heal through connection. Even as I myself am healing parts of me, I have so much to offer others who are going through the places I’ve been. After all, I must heal myself if I am ever to help heal another. That is a life experience I have plenty of. Be Blessed.

Photo by Billel Moula

Posted on in Identity, Spirituality

The Woman with a Message

It was Mother’s Day, and I decided what I needed was a little spiritual healing. I chose to visit one of my favorite shops for something to light up my soul. There I met a woman with a message for me. From the very first exchange, she spoke words that were familiar to me; things I’ve been hearing a lot lately. She confirmed deep feelings I’ve been carrying. Some of it shined a bright spotlight on what I’ve been struggling with, revealing a need to let go, forgive, and move forward into blessings. Some of it spoke to my life purpose, which I am intimately aware of, and my deep need to embrace my confidence and do what I am meant to do. The thing is, I have been holding onto some old ideas, some expired dreams, and some parts of my past that simply aren’t meant to move with me into the next chapter of this life.

She saw my blocked voice and my hesitation to speak. Ironically, she is not the first person to point this out to me. It’s a message I’ve been dancing with for some time. She connected it to my purpose as a spiritual teacher. No less ironic, she is not the first person to boldly proclaim this calling in my life without knowing a thing about me other than my present energy. I’ve had a handful of guides over the years tell me directly that I am a spiritual teacher and healer. I know this with a certainty in my bones that it’s as much of who I am as the color of my eyes. Even my eyes reveal my destiny.

The most profound part of her message was how she honed in on my gift of writing, the fact that I’ve been stuck and not writing, and the intense need I have to write and share my story as part of my purpose and path as a healer. I’ve danced with this gift for years, writing for fun and education. I’ve worked on books that have never made it much farther than my fingertips. I experience great confidence and also great insecurity about the vulnerability of publishing my own mind. Yet, on a sunny May afternoon, I was brought to a woman with a message for me, which was that I am a woman with a message that needs to be shared. So here I am, taking the first step in a new direction, and telling the story of my own life.

Posted on in Healing, Identity, Personal Thoughts, Spirituality

Remembering a True Identity

My mother told me, “You never lost your identity. You just forgot who you are for a little while.” A shift happened in my mind. The sense of being lost, like a dense fog, slightly lifted and suddenly there was a little bit of the road visible underneath. It felt easier to take a step, although I still didn’t know exactly where I was heading.

Identity can come from many things. We assume roles and if we are not steady in our awareness, those roles become what we believe we are. How often, when asked who we are, do we claim the identity of our roles; I am a mother, a writer, a wife, or a counselor. Which roles we highlight might depend on who the audience is which we are entertaining. In a business meeting, I am not likely to first say I am a mother. Likewise, in a social event full of women who are mothers, I am not likely to first label my career. The trouble herein comes from how fluid roles can be and therefore our identities become unstable. Deep insecurity might lead to an identity that labels us as hobbies, or religion, or sexual preferences.

When life shifts and we are shaken, an identity built on roles can come crashing down. I assumed a primary identity of ‘Wife’ for two decades, more than half of my life. That role was so important to me. It was essential to my self esteem that my functioning in that role defined my success and my value. I absorbed the multitude of messages from the culture and society around me about the role as wife and what it meant. So, when that role came to an end and I was facing the reality of divorce, I felt lost, confused, and lacking something that had become a large part of me. The loss of the relationship did not affect me at this point nearly as much as the loss of that role and title. For many years, the relationship had been gone. There was no substance left, only roles to fill. I had toiled through the slow death of the relationship and moved through deep grief many years prior. At a certain point, I resigned to going through the motions and fulfilling my duties as a wife. mother, and homemaker. I did a damn good job at my “jobs” and so even despite receiving no love or support, I was able to immerse myself in the work of being what I believed I needed to be. This was a self-laid snare that kept me trapped in a toxic situation far beyond when I should have let it end.

Then one day, while nurturing my spirituality, I was given a glimpse of a truth that gave me a sense of home. Talking about spiritual gifts, I heard someone say, “As you encounter something new that feels familiar and resonates deeply within you, you are simply remembering. Remembering who you are, and remembering the wisdom that’s been buried deep within you all along.” This took me back to the discovery that “Everything you need is already inside you.” Then my mother gave me the same message. I was never really lost, I just needed to remember. I am not a wife, but everything that made me a good wife is who I am. As in every possible role, we are not the title we carry, but the substance of what we pour into the job at hand. Roles change and end, but the person within the role is a steady and constant embodiment of attributes whose value is unchanging regardless of where she is positioned at any given moment.

So, if you are feeling lost, disconnected, or lacking, it’s time to remember who you are.

Posted on in Healing, Identity, Spirituality

Healing Hands

“You have healing hands.” It was one of the first compliments I received after giving a massage. It is still one of the greatest compliments I receive and one that I hear with some regularity. I understood this to mean that I have natural skills in bodywork. I also understood this as a way to communicate that I had done something impactful for my client. Still, at times, I have seen this in a more literal unfolding. Sometimes physical things move into repair, or healing, due to the physical manipulations of bodywork. However, sometimes emotional things are healed through touch or the exchange of energy that happens in a bodywork session. I have witnessed the improvement in mental health, the resolution of difficult emotional blocks, the restoration of the body in improved motion or removal of pain and disorder. So much healing happens when healthy touch and positive intention are placed into the same being.

Spiritual gifts do not require labels, titles, certifications, categories, or organized paths to manifest into reality. Rather, our gifts are an essential part of our identities and add definition to who we are. The magnetism of my energy, the potential of my touch, my dreams and manifest destiny, all showed through from my early childhood in my personality and the ways I interacted with the world around me. I believe this is true for everyone. Who you are, apart from the labels and roles you might pick up, will be exactly how you show up from the innocence of early consciousness.

As we go through life, we acquire knowledge, skills, identifiers, materials, and connections that help to communicate who we are and how we operate within the systems of the world. I’ve explored the world through this lens in many ways, collecting quite the array of qualifications to help paint a picture of who I am and what I can do. Healing, especially in the category of Energy Healing, can be a difficult concept to communicate because it is so much an experience rather than a segregated idea. I have learned, studies, applied, and adopted a number of different concepts and applications of energy healing over the years. This month, I am taking a focus on one in particular that I’ve never specifically talked about at length; Reiki. Now you know a little about my understanding and belief about spiritual gifts. Stay connected for what’s to come about this amazing technique.

Photo by Arina Krasnikova
Posted on in Emotions, Identity, Personal Thoughts

Pt 3: Standing On My Own

Time is a fascinating concept. Anything can happen in slow motion or in the blink of an eye, the only difference being one’s perception in the moment. In this moment, it feels like some things are changing rapidly while others are moving painfully slow. A major contributing factor to my own perception is the work that’s already been done. Nothing spontaneously combusts. All of the proper elements must be in place to ignite, explode, and burn. It may appear as sudden, or unexpected, but truthfully it must be in progress before it can happen.

As the days pass by, I find myself swimming through deep oceans of thought, emotion, and experience. Every day looks different, even from one hour to the next. I’m no longer drowning. I’m remembering how to swim. Being on an island for so long, hanging on through massive storms, gave me a resilience I am now resting in. When my life first capsized, it was crushing being pulled under over and over again. Each break of the surface and every breath I would take, reminded me that I am alive, and I’ve survived many times.

So, I stood up. I decided that I can stand on my own, and I will. Only resistance is difficult. The moment you decide you can, and you will, then anything becomes a matter of simply doing the next logical thing and moving through each moment. Confidence is gained by stepping up to the plate and swinging until you hit. Once you’ve made a hit you just repeat that until the natural motions become the rhythm that your body knows, and the rest will flow. When you miss, you swing again. When you fall, you get back up. Sometimes what feels like a delay, or a mistake, is just what was needed for things to line up and give you a better chance. Change can bring freedom. It might not be easy but go live while you’re still alive.

Posted on in Emotions, Identity, Personal Thoughts, trauma

Pt 2: On The Floor

It happened sooner than I expected. If I’m honest, everyone expected it. Maybe it wasn’t sooner, but actually, long overdue. It’s somehow like having a houseplant in the window that you’ve watched slowly die over many years. At first, it was beautiful, alive, and brought you joy when you looked at it. Over time, it began to fade for a variety of reasons. Regular care became occasional splashes of water that might give it a little perking up but never actually nourished it. As it faded, you drew the blinds to hide the painful truth. The lack of sunlight and fresh air from the outside only allowed it to wilt more. At some point, you realized it was dead and unsalvageable. So, you kept the blinds closed, you quit attempting to water it at all, and you just accepted that it was lost. Yet, you left it there because you couldn’t bring yourself to throw it away. If you looked at it, you would remember fondly how beautiful it once was and how it made you feel when it bloomed. Sure, it only bloomed a handful of times but while it was still green you embraced the hope that it could bloom again. The more it faded the more foolish that hope felt and at some point, you traded hope for reminiscing. You stopped looking to the future and just wouldn’t let go of the past. Until the moment came, someone threw open the window, knocking the plant out of your reach and it shattered on the floor. The dry, exhausted plant laid shriveled up on the floor, roots exposed, surrounded by dirt too deep to just brush away, and shattered pieces of the beautiful pottery that once contained its essence now looking like total devastation.

I take in a deep breathe that feels like it’s crushing my soul in such a tight space in my chest. In this moment, I realize I am the plant. My world is shattered around me. The dirt is everywhere, too deep to even see through at this point. My roots lie in the open, forcing me to see every wound that contributed to the rot of my foundation. What was once alive, cared for, wanted, and beautiful, is a shadow of the past and resembles an identity that doesn’t look anything like the truth of the seed it grew from. I remember the seed. I look up at the ceiling and know I have to clean up this mess. Just for today, I will not worry about tomorrow, or think about yesterday, because I’ve been there for so long that I missed this moment for far too long. So long in fact, that the end of forever came suddenly, so it seems.

Posted on in Emotions, Identity, Personal Thoughts, trauma

Pt 1: The Descent

She let her mind go first, then her body followed. Understand, when a woman “let’s herself go” there is a slow, painful death of part of her soul that must occur before she can burry that pain deep in her body. It starts with a question. She deflects criticism and doubt as long as she can, until the question appears. It is a question of personal doubt, a confusion, a foggy reasoning, because her understanding of who she is and your revealed perception of who she is can’t both be true. She loves you, so she will doubt herself in order to cling tight to her beliefs about you. She believes you love her, you cherish her, and that you want to give her the world. How could she not believe all of that? It is what you promised, after all.

Then comes the tearing; her mind is split in two as if each truth can be hidden from the other. Then nobody has to be wrong, or a liar, or delusional. So, one side believes she is strong, capable, worthy of love, and will thrive. The other side believes you hung the moon, even as the light grows dim. She becomes two personalities, upkeeping both facades. She is your every dream. She is her own hero. Neither has to compromise for the other. A breathing, walking inconsistency.

Inevitably, there is a break down. You see through the facade. You call her out. She can’t accept it because it is the very thing that keeps her alive. She must deny the truth of the imposter she has become in order to not lose touch with the reality she has created. So, she dives deeper into the programming and pours her energy into being enough for everyone. She has never been enough for you, and she makes up for it by appearing to be more than enough to everyone. It’s exhausting, living out stories so grand, but she can’t stop, or she will lose touch with the character she has created to replace her weaknesses. She creates space between her and every offense, every rejection, every doubt, every criticism, and soon she finds that space hurts less than emotion. In the space she appears strong, independent, even admirable. So, she gets comfortable there.

Posted on in Identity, Personal Thoughts

Purpose is in Your DNA

Before we lay 2023 to rest, I want to tell a little story. Have you ever wondered what hopes and dreams your ancestors had for you? Have you ever thought about what hopes and dreams you have for your lineage that comes after you?

This story could go back for centuries, into the beginning of time. To keep it relevant and relatable, we will only go back to the early 1900’s. It’s important to start with a simple fact; both of my parents were adopted. The story of my paternal grandfather and paternal grandmother could be a book or even a soap opera. Both of these individuals were married and had families. Yet, they shared a love story that is something truly wild and mostly left to the imagination. I do wish they were alive to tell the story in their own words. I did meet my biological paternal grandmother, but I never met my biological paternal grandfather. Sadly, I have no depth of knowing either of them or any personal conversation to contribute. What I do know is that despite having spouses and families, these two produced four biological children of their own. To my knowledge, they were never together in relationship and their long-term affair was somehow overlooked while they remained in their marriages. What a scandalous heritage! The point is, there is a story of forbidden love, a repeated return to something passionate, and in a time when divorce was not so common – a moral taboo too great to even speak of, all on this one branch of my family tree.

Fast forward a few decades and you’ll find me in my awkward adolescent years. I was the new kid at another new school, but I was quick to make new friends. One friend in particular just happens to be in the right place at the right time and discovers an amazing connection; we are actually cousins! When I think about the odds that we would both end up at that school at the same time, become friends, and make this discovery, it blows my mind! I think we would have been friends no matter what, but learning we were cousins added a very special seasoning to the recipe. We weren’t just any number down the line kind of cousins, but first cousins. My dad and his dad had the same dad- whoa! They didn’t grow up as brothers or even know the other existed. Similarly, we didn’t grow up as cousins or have any of that family roots kind of connection. In fact, we have no common family practically speaking. Although we are technically, biologically related to many of the same people, there is no relationship shared among us all. That’s another very unique aspect of our connection.

The most incredible thing to me is the spiritual connection we share. Throughout the many years of our adult lives, we have often met at the same crossroads and navigated a path together. A couple of times he has been my beacon in a storm, and I hope that I’ve at least been a true friend when he needed one. We’ve shared our gifts through dreams and discernment with many hours of discussion. I believe that so much of my personal, emotional, and spiritual growth has bloomed because I have this reflective soul in friendship who sees me and understands me in such a deep way. As if that’s not already the most amazing gift, he married a fantastic woman who has become one of my best friends and mirrors these qualities too. Their union is such a blessing and I have two best friends who’s intellectual, emotional, and spiritual depth reveal to me a glimpse of what human connection is meant to be. For that I am so grateful.

This is where the story comes full circle. My grandparents might well have had little foresight about the consequences of their actions. Maybe they didn’t care, or felt they had no options, or maybe they hoped for the best despite their failings as most parents do. I wonder if they ever could have imagined where we’d be today. Somehow, I believe, there is so much passion and purpose packed into our DNA that it brought together two souls meant to journey together. Maybe all of our connections are potentially just as powerful. Maybe we really do create reality and attract what is meant for us. Or maybe all good stories just have twists and coincidences. What do you think?

Posted on in Identity, personal development

Your Tribe Needs You

In a morning conversation today, a wise woman gave me the reminder that human beings, by nature, are tribal and rooted in relationship. I was in thought about how to plan my writing in a way that had the most value and was contemplating how relationships are central to the way we live. Quite often, our identity is deeply woven into the relationships we value. We take on names and titles like mother, wife, and _____ member. No single role title defines who we are, but it certainly gives shape to the greater image we bear.

How I show up to my relationships matters. Conflict is within the realm of relationship. Certainly, on my own I do not need conflict because I can do what I want to do. It’s when the ideas or expectations of others impose on my autonomy that conflict arises. So, in application, conflict is a tool for the shaping of my character. How I receive it, process it, and react to it will always leave an impression on my life and the lives which are entangled with me in that conflict.

You can’t show up in relationships unhealed without exposing others to your pain. You also can’t gain the greatest benefits from relationship until you are whole and able to give and receive without conditions. Yet, we always grow in light of the growing pains in relationship. In other words, the need for repair in relationship triggers mending of the self. If we are blessed with support, that mending reaches a deep, personal level that goes beyond the surface of the connection we are investing in.

Do the work. Heal the parts of you that long to be part of the whole. Integrate yourself so that you can show up and lead others into their greatest journeys. Allow yourself to be lead, through meaningful learning, by others who have walked where you are before you. Embrace connection for all it gives and be willing to show up for your tribe in ways that uplift the lowest and uphold the highest values.

I’m going to take you on a journey through the topic of relationships and help you find your healing. Stay connected for more.

Posted on in Identity, mindset

Trauma is a Buzzword

Everywhere from social media to mainstream media, people are talking about trauma. Like no other time in history, we have access to an abundance of trauma-informed care options that range from self-help to professional help. Even the term, trauma-informed, is a cultural norm in 2022. So where did all this trauma come from? Are there really so many people with trauma?

Traditionally, trauma was viewed as a major, life-altering, negative event. War, natural disaster, death, loss, divorce, abuse, etc. were all the well-known causes of trauma. Today, it seems like anything can be considered traumatic depending on what definition you apply to it. There is some truth to this. How we experience an event can mean much more than the event itself. That’s why a group of people can go through the same disaster and come out with very different effects. Yet, if state-of-mind determines if something is traumatic, then being stuck in trauma response would logically create more trauma with new situations. Seems like quite the cycle.

When I embarked on my journey as a counselor over a decade ago, my vantage point was a trauma-informed therapist. My own life story contains the pain which lead to me wanting to help others. Not only did I have first-hand experience, but I trained and studied in the various theories and modalities that would help me to help others the way I had been helped. At some point along the way, as trauma became a mainstream concept, I started to pull back from seeking out the trauma in others. Honestly, it is overwhelming to be aware of and intimately involved in the pain and healing process of others.

Recently, I have come to accept that the things which were healed in me, still exist in me. Even though triggers lost their power and coping was replaced by understanding, I am shaped by my experiences. Both the undoing and the rebuilding are mine. Life takes me through cycles where I find a sensitivity, I deconstruct the ideology which is causing me pain, I heal and define my own understanding, and I use it to help the next soul who is brought my way. Today, like so many years ago, my passion to heal the world starts with healing a newly uncovered part of me.