Tag: Spirituality

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 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?