childhood
Soul Circle Family Ties
Children choose their parents and families before they arrive in this world. In spiritual terms there is therefore no difference between a biological child and an adopted child. All souls belong to a soul group or soul circle, no matter what their chosen physical incarnation and human family structure may be.
The soul of an adopted child is just as much part of her family’s original soul circle as that of her sister, who chose instead to be physically born into the same family. They have both been part of their soul circle for eternity, and always will be.
Parents of adopted children, who also have biological children, will tell you that they feel the same spiritual and emotional bond with all their kids. They experience the same levels of attachment, connection, and love with each child. Spiritually aware parents often also report that they feel they have known the souls of both their adopted and biological children in previous lifetimes, or that there was an instant soul recognition the moment they first saw each child.
We choose our earth families, parents, and physical bodies before we are born. Our soul knows before birth the physical traits, capacities, and disabilities our body will have in this lifetime, as well as the talents, gifts, shortcomings, and limitations we will have in our chosen incarnation.
We also decide how we wish to join our chosen human families, including by birth, surrogacy, adoption, and even the blending of families. These choices our souls make are determined by our chosen soul purpose and life path. There are many karmic reasons why soul circle members may prefer adoption, instead of biological birth.
The Courage To Rescue Your Inner Child
Many people wish they had better memories of their childhood. For some the traumatic experiences of their youth is something they would much rather forget. But spirit has shown me that each piece of our life happens for a reason.
Learning to overcome and rise above the negative events in our life enables us to grow and expand. We do not get to pick and choose the parts we like, and discard the rest in the deepest closet of our mind. We become an empowered, improved version of ourselves when we find healing and forgiveness by redeeming even the worst parts of our life experience.
We all matter. We all bring unique gifts to this world. No matter what has happened to us, we must rescue every lost or damaged moment of our life journey. Those tragic events and awful experiences are what molds us into who we are today and who we are meant to become.
Nobody chooses some the things that might happen to them: family dysfunction, separation, divorce, rivalry, abuse, loss, death. As children we often blame ourselves for the things that happen around us, or we block it out, never wanting to remember it again. But this only means that you have left a part of yourself behind in the darkness of the past. But now that you are older and wiser, wouldn’t it be awesome if you could go back and save that part of you?
As a little girl I loved horses and dogs, but we could not afford to keep any. I made up for it by drawing them. My parents could also not afford to buy me expensive drawing paper, so I had to wait until my mom returned from the grocery store, because I would then get the used brown paper bags to draw on. It may seem somewhat silly, but to this day I still buy lots of paper whenever I get the chance! One would think there was going to be a shortage on paper, based on how I tend to stock up.
The Babysitter’s Near-Death Experience
While I was working out at the gym one day, I saw a little old lady who used to babysit me and my brothers when we were little children. I will never the wonderful times we had with her. She was always making it so much fun. She wasn’t on the phone all the time or watching television. She wasn’t ignoring us kids like so many of the other babysitters my mother sometimes hired for us.
When I spotted her and her daughter in the gym, I walked over to greet her, and told her that I remember her very well. I also thanked her for giving me some wonderful memories and teaching me so many valuable life lessons. The one thing I specifically remember her telling me was to always be careful about what we “put into our minds.”At a young age she had already made me realize that what we think about can either help us or harm us. I have always held on to that wisdom in my life. Because it is truly worth more than gold.
One time, I asked her how she knew so much about things. She looked at me and said,“Moon, you know what, I died once.”
“What? No way!” I responded. I went to catholic school growing up, and near-death experiences were certainly not the kind of thing we were learning about in class.
“Yes, I was in the hospital,” she continued. “I had a major operation and I could not wake up afterwards.” Apparently, she had flatlined during surgery and they had struggled to revive her.
“I am very lucky to be here,” she said and then shared some very interesting things with me about her near-death experience (NDE). I still remember that when she first left her body her parents were both there to meet her and she could hear loved ones on the other side of the tunnel having fun. I also remember she said she felt like a ball of light at the time and that it felt so good. The next moment she was being pulled back into her body. Continue reading
If Bumble Bees Can Fly, So Can We!
When my teenage son was only two years old, he was in the living room one day, jumping from the chair to the couch with a towel wrapped across his shoulders like a cape. He was joyfully singing that he was a superhero and that he could fly. His father looked at him sternly and told him humans cannot fly. I nudged his father, “Don’t tell him that!”
To salvage the situation, I then proceeded to tell my son about bumble bees. I explained that it is aerodynamically impossible for a bumble bee to fly. Their bodies are way too big, and their wings are way too small to carry their little bodies through the air. Yet, they still do manage to fly. This was probably so because their bumble bee ‘mommies and daddies’ never told them they couldn’t! So, bumble bees fly through the air, never knowing that it is by scientific standards technically impossible.
My husband was not impressed. He looked at me and said, ”If next time he jumps off the roof, thinking he can fly, and lands on his head and breaks his neck, I’m holding you personally responsible.” “Point taken,” I said. But it was too late to redact my ‘bumble bee life lesson,’ so I then had to make very sure my son understood that he was never to attempt any flying from high places!
But, it did get me to thinking: how often do we hinder and limit our children? Some of us have psychic children. How many parents are even interested in helping them to develop their abilities? A large part of society is not so open to this.
I wonder what would happen, for example, if I were to tell a psychiatrist that I talk to spirit? He would probably say something like, “It is my observation that you are deluded to the extent that your believe you see and communicate with ghosts. My diagnosis is psychotic disorder.” Then he is likely to put me on some sort of psychiatric medication, or worse have me admitted to a mental health care facility! If I further told the same hypothetical psychiatrist that I entertained the idea of my children also having psychic abilities, he might call child protection services, to have them removed from my care for their own protection. Continue reading
How My Psychic Ability Developed
I have been asked many times over the years how my psychic ability developed. I can’t speak for anyone else, but this is how it happened for me.
As a young child, I had an imaginary friend, her name was Dee-Dee. My mother said I played with her often. She also said, I blamed Dee-Dee for almost everything. Saying things like, “I didn’t do it, Dee-Dee did!” My mother said when I was four years old, after my brother was born, Dee-Dee just went away. The rest of my childhood was pretty much uneventful, with the exception of a few prophetic dreams.
As a teenager, I had an uncanny ability to narrowly escape trouble. I probably should have been dead ten times over. Always, at the last second, I would always change my mind – decisions that ultimately saved my life.
Then, when I turned 19, about a year or two after I had my first son, things began to change. It began with a visitation from a girl who looked exactly like me, except, she had darker features. My hair was blonde, hers was brown…that sort of thing. She terrified me, but by being aware of her presence my awareness was heightened all together.
I started off going to parties and after a couple of drinks, I found myself going around the room, from person to person, connecting them with deceased relatives and friends. Mostly, giving brief messages. This became almost expected entertainment once I arrived. Doing these readings was not only mind-blowing for those receiving them, but for me as well. They caused me mind-shattering headaches.
Keeping Score In A Relationship
I believe the habit of keeping a ‘score card’ might start in someone’s childhood. It is based on developing a certain sense of duty and responsibility early on. For example, as kids I remember my sister and I had to take turns doing the dishes. My sister would always keep tabs on that chore. She always knew whose turn it was next. My sister is four years older than me, and to this day she still keeps score on almost everything in her life.
This also set the precedent for me with friends and other family members. Others keeping score just seems natural to me, so I never feel the need to do so myself.
This did not server me well in all aspects of my young adult life. For example, in relationships it always felt like I was the one trying to make things work. It did not make any difference to me who called who last. Therefore, I ended up doing most of the calling. But does it truly matter that much?
What has the other person done for me? After all I have done and given so much! What do I get out of this relationship? These are the questions score keepers are always asking themselves.
But in my view, a relationship is never 50/50, even if both people are truly happy and fulfilled. One will always be doing less or more. But it does not matter, as true love is supposed to be unconditional.
So, if you are keeping a score card things will never balance and the emotion that will come up is anger, rebellion, defensiveness, or a complete shut-down. That does not serve any relationship in the long run.
Empowering Life Lessons From My Abusive Father
My father Jim had to grow up quickly in the tough pre-war years. He was the eldest of six children and he did not have an easy childhood, nor tolerant parents.
But life became even more challenging for Jim as he reached adulthood. My parents were married at the age of 21 and had three kids by 23, and another baby at 34.
Jim faced many challenges. As a result, to vent his frustration and process all the stress, he often took it out on those closest to him, namely his wife and children.
Let’s just say my father was not always the ideal husband and parent. It became so bad by the time I was an adult that he would do whatever he could to disrupt my life and my family in any way that you might imagine. The sad part was that he actually wanted to hurt us, as doing so gave him a bizarre sense of satisfaction and control over those closest to him.
I first became fully aware of my father’s desire to disempower his kids when I was about 22 years old. The year was 1982, and jobs were very hard to come by in the United Kingdom in those days. I had an office job but wanted something better. So, I decided to attend school for a year to learn shorthand and typing at the local technical college.
One day, I asked my dad if I could get a ride with him to college, because I had to sit an important exam at 2pm that day. He said I need not worry, as he would drop me off in plenty of time. But then he proceeded to make every excuse not to leave the house!
By quarter to two, I started to panic, as I could not possibly walk or catch a bus from my house to the college with so little time. At ten minutes to two, he finally agreed to take me to sit the exam, but then when we got in the car, he said he needed to go to the garage for gas. I looked at the fuel gauge and saw the car’s tank was full.
I suddenly realized he did not want me to sit the exam, as he did not want me to pass it and better myself and become more independent. Thankfully, his sabotage attempt failed, as I did pass the exam and went on to get a higher paying job.