memories
Strange Connections
A few years ago, one of my daughters and I discovered the intricate and intriguing world of the meditative state. As it turned out, my daughter had an inherent ability to bring anyone who was interested in participating to a complete and extremely fruitful outcome. This could mean meeting a spirit guide, animal guide, finding and understanding of one’s own soul color, or a plethora of other magnificent occurrences that can help to enhance an individual’s life.
It soon became known in our area that we were offering a free and viable service, and it was not long before our little workshop was at its full capacity.
One particular day, as we were getting ready for our next workshop, my little three-year-old granddaughter informed us that a deaf man would be arriving that day. We never thought to question the validity of her statement or even questioned how she would know this for a fact. She said it, we believed her, and simply waited for him to arrive. That’s how we do things in my family.
Well, the next thing we know, one of our regular participants pulls up in his vehicle and out comes another older gentleman, who we find out fairly quickly is completely deaf in one ear. As we became more familiar with him, he was more inclined to share with us his life’s story.
He was born and raised in South Africa, came to North America as a teenager with his family. Although the medical community could not determine a real cause for his hearing impediment, they did conclude that he was indeed legally deaf.
‘Decoration Day’ At The Old Home Place
Memorial Day, which we referred to as ‘Decoration Day’ in my family, is full of precious childhood memories and nostalgia for me. My folks were of Southern heritage mostly, although I grew up in Oklahoma. We lived in the country, on an acreage we called ‘The Old Home Place,’ because it had been handed down for generations.
We had big ole vegetable gardens. In fact, we called one of them a ‘truck patch,’ because it was so large. Soul food, ya know. Nothing better! The truck patch covered five acres. A truck patch is when so many vegetables are produced, there’s enough to truck them out commercially, although we never did. We gave all our friends and relatives what we couldn’t preserve (can) and store in the cellar. In those days we all shared whatever we had.
We also had a small vegetable garden right behind our house, for every day fresh veggies, such as beds of lettuce. In front, we had a potato patch. In other areas there were blackberry bushes, a pecan orchard, a fruit orchard, plums, blueberries, and so on. We were pretty much self-sustaining.
All of the vegetable gardens were plowed by hand with mules, in rows for planting. I used to help with the planting and canning when I was just a little girl. We also butchered our own chickens, pigs and cattle, and made lye soap in a big ole iron pot outside on a wooden fire…all in the old ways. I don’t miss butchering the critters and to this day, I can’t eat animal flesh, except for fish and seafood.
Spirit Courage, Body Bravery
We all know someone who clearly walks to the beat of their own drum. These people typically have a robust inner strength, and refuse to accept at will any pertinent information handed to them by anyone in a position of authority. The one such character that stands out in my life is my maternal grandfather.
We came from a small town of 8,000 souls. Although our neighbors enjoyed the comforts of electricity, running water and all the modern conveniences of that time, my grandfather instead chose a code of living that suited him best.
The farmers in the area also had the use of tractors and other types of modern farming equipment that enabled them to work in a more worldly fashion, but my grandfather stubbornly refused to adhere to these modern trends. He had reliable horses to pull his plow and haul the hay, used kerosene lanterns when electric lighting was easily available to him, and firmly kept to his agenda with a tedious water pump that was needed for the normal household chores.
He was a very dedicated and diligent employee, working in the shipyard. He helped to load cargo ships from all corners of the globe, which came for the mighty salmon our region was extremely well-known for. Papa, as he was known to one and all, married at a very young age, which was a normal occurrence in those days, and managed to sire 15 children. He was also very well-versed and totally immersed in politics. The entire neighborhood would first ask his advice before casting their ballot, or not, for any politician brave enough to run for local office.
Humor – A Message From My Guides
We encourage everyone to remember the expression, “Laughter is the best medicine.”
Gossip and rumors abound. People overreact to perceived slights and unintended insults. Hair-trigger tempers flare and social media platforms expose issues for all to see. Friends interject their opinions without all the facts. Disagreements become exacerbated in the resulting spotlight. Politics can be polarizing. Stress levels are through the roof. Road rage is no longer an isolated incident. You can feel surrounded by potential conversational landmines.
At times like this, it is important to step back, take a breath and take a break. Come back to the issue with fresh eyes and determine whether it is truly worthy of consideration and comment, or whether it is a tempest in a teapot that will pass on its own. If necessary, deal with the issue using logic and forethought, rather than high emotion.
In times of stress, seeing the lighthearted side of anything can seem difficult, if not altogether impossible. However, there are some ways that you can soften the impact.
If you can come to terms with the idea of worrying only about those things you can really control and take the necessary action to control them, it will make it much easier to compartmentalize and to choose where to focus your thoughts and resources.
Put Your Phone Down, And Start Living!
I was blessed to be born before the arrival of the Internet and smart phone technology. It was a time when kids were playing outside all day, and we often did not want to go home, because we were having too much fun. It was a time when people still connected with each other in person, and on a deeper level. It was a time when we lived life in a much simpler way.
Since then the rise of digital technology and the Internet seemed like it happened overnight, and everyone was instantly hooked, including myself! It was exciting, because information was now just a click away. Communication was faster and easier, and you could ‘connect’ with just about anyone, anywhere, anytime.
But then social media and smart phones came along, and before we realized what hit us, it began to gradually cripple our ability to focus, to truly connect, to be present in the moment, and to be in touch with our spiritual nature. To make matters worse, we started comparing our lives to others: friends, enemies and idols… only to diminish our sense of self-worth.
Last weekend, I was playing the board game Monopoly with my teenage son and his best friend. His friend seemed unable to put his phone down and pay attention to the game. I asked him why, and he said it was because he was addicted to knowing what others were doing, and that he didn’t want to feel “left out.”
Apologies From The Other Side
Departed loved ones have come through to me many times over the years with a message of apology for how they treated me, or one of my clients. There is typically a common thread in these spirit messages: they didn’t know better at the time, but they do now, and they now see things differently. With the apology usually also comes great regret and remorse, acknowledging the pain they caused us.
For anyone who has been on the receiving end of abuse, I have come to believe that there is also a lesson in this. For me, the lesson has been learning to love myself. I was a people-pleaser for most of my life, and to some extent this is probably still the case, but there is a lesson in this too, in learning about self-love and learning to put my own needs first. My experience has been instrumental in enabling me to identify with others, and, in turn, I have become more able to help others the best I can.
I love the teachings of the spirit guide Emmanuel, as channeled by the late Pat Rhodegast. Emmanuel says, “If we were not meant to have done something, we would not have, but that it was all appropriate at the time.” I seem to recall his teachings stating that this does not mean that we should condone the harsh treatment of others.
As adults, we have more choices, but when family and loved ones treat us harshly, we often hope that things would get better, or that perhaps they were just having a bad day. I personally would do just about anything to please them, desperate to get their approval. Others often commented on and in hindsight they were right, but I would continue to hope.
Healing Painful Soul Memories
Every moment in our life creates a soul memory. Some of those memories are wonderful, and some are dreadful. The most horrific memories can be buried so deep, that the are no longer conscious memories, but they still affect how we move forward in life.
For example, a person who was sexually abused as a child may gain excessive weight or become self-destructive in their habits, in order to punish themselves, or to protect themselves from being the source of someone wanting to abuse them again. Because this abuse can happen at such a young age, the child may not have a conscious recollection of it until something in the present triggers it. They often have the barriers of protection they have created, but they do not know why.
When a trigger comes to surface that brings up a subconscious soul memory, it needs to be dealt with, or it will start to eat away at all the enjoyment in a person’s life. It will ruin their relationships, friendships and even work relationships, because the person simply cannot function at their true and full capacity with joy in their soul.
How do you heal painful soul memories? It takes a lot of work. It does not happen in a moment, or overnight. It is a matter of looking at each aspect, one at a time, forgiving what happened, forgiving yourself for carrying it for so long, and releasing it from your soul memory.