How full is your cup?

It was one of my blog followers that has inspired this post. In a comment to one of my other posts he shared the story of the wise Zen master with me. It reached me at the most divine timing. I knew the story already, but being reminded of it in “that” moment was exactly what I needed. Once again it was wisdom already received, but tucked away somewhere and not accessed by myself until I was reminded. Strangely how that happens more times than none. Thank you John.

I had written about my new outlook and about viewing an empty Glass. As an optimist my belief was always around seeing a glass as half full, a positive view compared to seeing it as half empty which could indicate negativity. Perhaps seeing an empty glass would be equivalent to signaling the end, with nothing left to go for. Perhaps it’s just another outdated program and a belief I picked up somewhere along the line. Pieces like these keep coming forward and they make me question most everything these days. They challenge me to see things with a new and refreshed look, making way to new possibilities, considerations and beliefs. It is as if I am receiving an upgrade to my self, my being, ready for the next phase. I arrive at the conclusion that there is nothing wrong with an half empty glass as there is room for more to be filled into it. An empty glass signifies an even greater opportunity, an empty sleigh, a new beginning, a shedding and purging of the old to make room for the new. The only problem I really see now is with a full glass and you will understand why as soon as I share the story of the Zen master with you. Sometimes when we have the most, when we have gathered all the knowledge, all the learnings, all the wisdom, but when we forget how to use it properly and the ego is fed in the worst way, we actually end up in the worst shape, suffocating ourselves at too much bliss and closing ourselves off from all the beauty that still awaits.

For some reason I was dividing people this morning into the ones that are book smart and the ones that are street smart. To me the full cup represents the people that know it all already and who have nothing to learn. They create their own reality and perception, as well as their own truth and beliefs. It becomes their guiding system with little consideration for new insights and they usually don’t sway much from it. Is it a choice they made to be this way, has life made them this way, are they perhaps close minded, stubborn, mean, or are they secretively insecure, vulnerable, afraid, protecting their wounds with a strong image and front? Their cup is full, overflowing, with no room for anything else. Some of the people I have met had degrees and are very book smart. They are educated and they know what they want. Sometimes to the point of any cost and downright ruthless, manipulating and narcissistic. And sometimes they will overpower you with their smarts because there is an answer for everything already and they already know, regardless of what you have to say. They are beyond the listening point, not really hearing you anymore. Some struggle to find common sense in the challenges of day to day life and regardless of their smarts, they become lost and isolated. Please forgive me for these opinions, I am not trying to generalize and I know there are exceptions. These are merely my experiences and what I encountered. What I see and what I pick up as an empath, regardless of the pain I have experienced because of that behavior.

And then we have the ones that deal with day to day life every day. Who might not be the smartest, who might have skipped school, never earning that degree, but who still have amounted to something worthwhile. Who have become experts to rolling with the punches, who are not exempt from the challenges and life itself, but who consistently catch the “Green lights,’ somehow making it work. I look at actors who have ditched their professional diploma and instead became a student of life, and a role model to society. Who have become motivational speakers sharing their wisdom about life and what it takes. Who became highly successful regardless of how they did in school. The ones that are life long students, not only marching to their own beat but to that of a higher meaning. So which one holds more worth I wonder, or is it even a matter of which one is valued more as each contributes in their own unique way. Again, I am speaking only for myself, about my preferences and who I would rather be. Don’t get me wrong, I think that an education is very important as it opens doors for careers and financial security. And yet how to be happy, content, and at peace, aligned with your highest self is not being taught in school. How do we earn that degree? From living life itself. We teach to strive, to be competitive, to work hard, to become ruthless, to be better than the other person. We don’t teach mindfulness and compassion, or what it takes to be content. Perhaps we are starting to incorporate some of these things, and while it is not enough yet, perhaps a start has been made. Perhaps there is a common middle ground, a great education but an open mind, and a willingness to learn the best of both worlds. To stay receptive and keep the ego humble. A hard task for sure but not impossible. Perhaps it starts with a choice. All kinds of things to ponder here and to consider. You can see how my mind could keep going, but now, finally, here is the story of the wise Zen master.

There lived a wise Zen master. People travelled from far away to seek his help. In return, he would teach them and show them the way to enlightenment.

One day, a scholar came to visit the master for advice. “I have come to ask you to teach me about Zen,” the scholar said.

Soon, it became obvious that the scholar was full of his own opinions and knowledge. He interrupted the master repeatedly with his own stories and failed to listen to what the master had to say. The master suggested that they have tea.

So the master poured his guest a cup. The cup was filled, yet he kept pouring until the cup overflowed onto the table, onto the floor, and finally onto the scholar’s robes. The scholar cried “Stop! The cup is full already. Can’t you see?”

“Exactly.” The Zen master replied. “You are like this cup – so full of ideas that nothing more will fit in. Come back to me with an empty cup.”

Home sweet home and one of the biggest responsibilities of all

Picture credit: Pinterest

I’ve talked about it many times before, my upbringing as well as that, that applies to conventional society and the expectations that are placed onto us . I am not the only one who was raised with certain standards, programs and expectations so we can grow up to be responsible adults. These programs consist of values passed on from generation to generation, sharing the wisdom of what is important in life, meant to guide us on our way. Fact is, that it often takes years and years, sometimes even a lifetime to learn that these teachings are not in line with our most authentic self. From there we spend a lifetime unlearning what we have been taught in order to find ourselves.

We are trained to do well in school. Later we search for a job that pays great, that offers a successful career so we can acquire “the toys” to validate our hard work. These possessions include cars, material wealth and the biggest burden of all, a house. While it’s nice to have your own roof over your head instead of putting money into someone else’s pocket, the many years of sacrifice it takes until you hopefully own it one day, often go unseen. The years it takes until that lucky day comes, are often swept under the carpet. It’s just the way it is, and one needs to work hard for the luxury of owning a house, to provide a place for themselves and to raise a family. The long hours of work, the years of budgeting, and the monthly expenses are accepted in silence, they are a part of it, and simply the price one has to pay. Here in America the average loan takes 30 years to pay off. 30 years of your best life. What is instilled into us is to work hard, to have something to show for (the material things) and to uphold certain standards. This pressure can amount to such enormous levels that we see ourselves in constant competition to keep up with the Jones’s.

Until just recently I was paying for a mortgage too, and it would have taken another 15 years to pay it off until I could fully call it mine. I’d have to wait until I was 71 to finally enjoy financial freedom. To travel, be able to retire with enough to make a living and enjoy whatever life I’d have left. Today’s youth is growing up differently and smarter in many ways. They know much earlier what they want and where to invest their energy into. There is not a lack of people wanting to own their own house, but we are finding alternatives such as tiny living and embracing minimalism for financial independence. We no longer become slaves to our financial obligations and we are finding a way to push a healthy work-life balance into the foreground as a must.

After Mom’s passing in 2019 and being the only child, I inherited her house in Germany which now is mine. It’s been on my mind constantly since. Shortly after Mom passed I was asked about what I will do with the house. Will I sell it, will I keep it, what was next! How lucky I was to have inherited it the begin with, given that it takes 30 years of hard work to pay it off in most cases. And some people never even make it and get that lucky to own their own home. I was definitely better off than most. Here I was paying for my home in America while inheriting one, fully paid in Germany.

It seemed impossible to come up with an answer, let alone consider the possibility of selling it. I was undecided and torn. During my 10 month stay to care for Mom in 2018 and the 3 month in 2019, I surrounded myself with the walls that held Mom for so many years. The walls that shielded her from the outside world, made her somewhat of a hermit, living in the past and that became her time, decades that stood still. It was those very walls that knew her story, which had seen her pain, the tears and her loneliness. It was the walls that held the memory of my father who died tragically while the remodel for the house was still underway. It was the memory, a memorial to my Dad that remained unchanged since 1974, and perhaps these walls were the last place where Mom considered herself happy. I felt close to her within those walls, a closeness I have always chased during her living years, and here in her most intimate quarters, I felt it all. The heaviness and all the emotions surrounding it. She always wanted me home and in a way it was as if my being there was saying “your girl is finally here, I have finally come home.” Too late to enjoy this time together, while you were alive, but home, taking care of her castle, the house that meant so much to her.

For quite some time, I honestly believed that I would return to Germany, renovating and living in my parents house. A house stuck in the theme of 1974, the time Dad passed. Not having a mortgage, no longer paying these monthly dues was appealing, and I thought that I could leave behind my adult life of 30 some years spent here in the States, to find peace and serenity in the countryside of the small village I had left behind so many years. It wasn’t that this grown up country girl had become a city girl and couldn’t see herself in a small village anymore. It was quite the opposite and by now I was yearning for the silence Mom embraced for so many years. Not the loneliness, but the serenity and the absence of noise. I didn’t mind to be in a small village. A place everybody knew everybody, a place that sometimes enjoys a bit of gossip, (the very thing that drove me nuts growing up there) and every time I was back “home” I found it hard to leave again.

More than a year passed after leaving the house empty and wrestling with the subject of what to do until I finally could sort my feelings. By now two years have passed and my findings are still the same. The house is always on my mind and I constantly worry about it standing empty, a shell of what used to be, a reminder of loneliness and pain. Despite of feeling the vibrations and emotions of pain while I stayed in the house, it never discouraged me and I always thought that my love was stronger, and that it could replace and fill these walls with happier emotions. I still feel the same and I know I could, but I lack the motivation to turn it into reality. I am tired and I finally realize that it will always be my parents house instead of my own. It doesn’t matter that it is in my name and that I am the sole owner of it, it was “their thing”, their goal, their dream, their hard work.

I no longer want to hold on to a house that was my parents dream, but not necessarily mine. I know that if I moved back to Germany, it would be to uphold their vision and deny my own. I don’t want to compromise anymore and I am late to chase my own dreams. In my decision making time I struggled with Mom seeing me as most ungrateful, perhaps feeling that I was not deserving of inheriting her house. Perhaps she would feel like she should have donated it to the church like she mentioned once in a fight, and perhaps this is all warranted and true. But it’s out of my control if I want to be true to myself. I am most grateful for the opportunity to live there or to sell it so I can chase my own sanctuary. It has not been easy, struggling with all these thoughts of what to do, the guilty feelings and wanting to do the right thing by her. In the end I realize that the right thing in her eyes would be something that holds me back. Moving to Germany would have been fueled by the yearning to be accepted by Mom, doing what she would have expected. I was looking for her approval, something I had chased all my life, the approval from someone that was no longer here. I realized the motivation behind my thoughts, to finally do the right thing and redeem myself for all the years of being gone and having disappointed her. I was too late, she was gone, or could it be that she would smile down from heaven in approval, finally giving me that sign.

For the longest I wanted to hold on to my house here in the states. I’ve worked so hard for it and it had many custom and special features. But that mortgage was definitely a ball and chain that kept me on a tight leash, unable to live life as I see it. Selling it to move to Germany was hard to envision. Leaving all comforts for a house that needs to be remodeled just to meet today’s standard was a daunting vision and a costly one. Shelling out all that money just to have something that was never my vision, was hard to imagine. And not having children of my own to pass it on to some day. Yes I could have sold it and applied the money to the mortgage I had here. It would have made a big dent into the remaining balance but even that was no longer me as I was downsizing, not needing all that space anymore, nor wanting the responsibility of it all. I was well on my way of becoming a minimalist.

My life underwent a transition phase, one that was reevaluating what is truly needed, where I see myself in the future, what dreams I want to chase, downsizing in the meantime to a little place of bliss and happiness. It is ever evolving and new doors continue to open whether I am ready to walk through them or not. I was leaning towards something radical, to sell both places and to truly pursue my happiness. The “The Tiny Abode” surely was something radical and it’s more and more becoming a home, although I don’t see it as a permanent one. The decision sounded right, logical and perfect and yet it’s been a complex endeavor but also a fun process. It feels right and I know that I am working towards my dream, my peace, what I deserve, being my own boss, and never returning to that rat race again. It means financial freedom to collect moments, memories and experiences versus material things. Now that I finally see the path clearly I need to go to Germany and take care of a house that is a ghost of the past. A house that is in dire straits, a house that is falling apart and a house that is keeping me from my destiny.

Being satisfied with your choice

The other day I stared down the bottom of my glass and this is the view I got. I thought it was kind of beautiful. It reminds me of the artist within me, earlier times and when I took a ton of picture of ordinary things that in my mind looked extraordinary. It takes me back to a time when I won a photo contest with a picture of a weed, and my own belief to always remember that beauty is all around us. That it lies in the eyes of the beholder and that it’s often the little things that touch our hearts in the biggest ways.

Behind it, was my Himalayan salt lamp, giving it a nice little glow, illuminating the center. I’ve always considered myself as a person that viewed the glass as half full versus half empty. I was proud of that, as it signaled a positive outlook. This glass and the view was definitely empty and I’m not sure where I am going with all of this, accept that despite it being empty, there was still beauty to be found. Maybe empty isn’t all that bad, scary, or negative as we thought it to be. Maybe there needs to be an empty so we are able to fill it anew with fresh goodness, replacing something that perhaps has become stale. I don’t know, I am just pondering this morning. Maybe it’s the quote that I stumbled across this morning that is further shaping my Perspective overhaul. God knows I am a sucker for a good quote. To me they are tiny bits of wisdom, lived through experiences, passed on with loving intentions, not just to be heard and share a part of us, but also to contribute and help others along the way. To me, quotes are reminders of something we already know at times but often forget. A long time ago I have sworn myself to not live a life filled with regrets. And yet we make mistakes. We all have regrets. We all wish soon or later that we could get one more chance to hear the voice of a deceased loved one. That we could do some things over, take back words, live with more awareness and be more in the moment. Even if we manage to make drastic changes, we need to realize that there will be glitches. When we slip and when things are less than perfect. Today I remind myself with this quote and a prayer to embody it as often as possible.

“Speak to people in a way that if they died the next day, you’d be satisfied with the last thing you said to them.”

Welcome Mati & Rhaeadr

My two healers from Wales have arrived. Just the process of getting them to me was complex and not easy. I almost missed them by an hour and they would have taken on the journey back to England, but now they are here. The two dolls were handcrafted by Sara at Hiaethgallery and are one of a kind. It is said that Gwragedd Annwn fairies can attract GOOD HEALTH and good health was exactly what I was so desperately seeking. Each doll is infused with magic and specific properties, unique to each doll. They are often accompanied with healing gemstones, besoms, and special charms. Each creation carries the energy of the one who created them, with a specific wish and purpose to be fulfilled in their new forever home.

As a welcome gift, I turned an old white multi opening cabinet into a custom home for them. I wished I would have taken a before and after picture, but I was on eager to get started. What you see in the picture above is the backside of it with their names and the healers hand painted on. The Healers hand has been an important part of me, ever since I became a Reiki Master and is a powerful symbol. Another gift I gave each one was a little Bloodstone to aid and support their healing for me. Strangely, within a day or two after they arrived I felt sicker than usual. Headaches, dizziness, weakness, just an overall feeling of exhaustion and not being well. I found it odd and strange. From time to time I looked at them as if I was waiting for an answer as to what was going on. Of course there wasn’t a physical answer, but just a few days later I started to get better again. And this time the better feeling was hanging around longer, with more breaks in between physical pain, and the scale was tipping. I seemed to struggle a little less, had more energy and completed tasks with more ease, albeit every time I say this, I revert back to an awful day. But not so far, not yet and that in itself is a milestone to build on. And then, a few days after finally getting better again, and staying well, I got my answer and it seemed as if they had purged something dark, something ill, a sickness, a weakness, a struggle within me. It feels strange to even say this and skeptics would shake their head at me, but that’s what I choose to believe and if it helps me, then I say “more power to me.” So, I say welcome to my two healers, while I look forward to a wonderful relationship together. You may even get another friend down the road, handmade from me to join you very soon. I have been largely inspired to test my abilities and most materials have been gathered to create my own. Let’s see what emerges and if I can pull it off.

Perspective overhaul

Are you still waiting for that perfect moment, when the stars align and everything is perfect? When all your expectations are met? Are you still waiting for that perfect person that will meet all of your needs and can’t have any faults. Are you still walking away, unable and unwilling to invest and believe in someone or something? Are you still saving your best outfit for Sunday’s and special gatherings? How about that beautiful China, locked away behind glass doors that is only for special occasions?

Life has a funny way of reminding us about what truly matters and those particular things that should matter. What deserves your attention and what not. At times we get so wrapped up in every day life and the people that occupy this space. Sometimes we get sidetracked, we stray, and we try to please where there is no need for it. We do it for acceptance, to be liked, to be a part, to belong. Perhaps we are programmed to do so and don’t know how else to be. Next our wisdom and hard earned knowledge goes out the window and we forget that none of these behaviors are worthwhile. Especially when expectations are placed upon us by someone that should have our best interest at heart. It’s always easy to be there during the fun times, but it’s the hard times that truly matter and speak volumes, don’t they? In the process of it all we forget to have fun and we lose ourselves. We might even make a fool out of ourselves, but believe me it is needed because the comeback is always stronger.

Life has been something else for me this year. My hair is sticking straight up when I recount the moments. I have gained so much and I have lost. I trust and I believe. Gone are the illusions, the games, and even the mindfuckery. Pardon my own word but there has been a good share of it. But even that was needed to put things back into perspective. The other day I thought that I missed that Warrior inside of me, but she is alive and well. Stronger than ever. With a new perspective overhaul and some beautiful words by Mary Anne Perrone.

I am no longer waiting for a special occasion; I burn the best candles on ordinary days. I am no longer waiting for the house to be clean; I fit it with people who understand that even dust is Sacred. I am no longer waiting for everyone to understand me; it’s just not their task. I am no longer waiting for the perfect children; my children have their own names that burn as brightly as any star. I am no longer waiting for the other shoe to drop; it already did, and I survived. I am no longer waiting for the time to be right; the time is always now. I am no longer waiting for the mate who will complete me; I am grateful to be so warmly, tenderly held. I am no longer waiting for a quiet moment; my heart can be stilled whenever it is called. I am no longer waiting for the world to be at peace; I unclench my grasp and breathe peace in and out. I am no longer waiting to do something great; being awake to carry my grain of sand is enough. I am no longer waiting to be recognized; I know that I dance in a holy circle. I am no longer waiting for forgiveness; I believe, I believe.

Let us remember what we usually know already but sometimes forget. Let us say aloud “I am enough” because we always are. Let us take a moment and wish the ones that don’t see our worth, well. Let us forgive, let us live and let us move on, putting into perspective our truth, what we believe and trust to be.

Kiss of life

Randall Champion accidentally touched a high-voltage line, electrifying himself and stopping his heart. A fellow linemen J.D. Thompson performed mouth-to-mouth CPR until paramedics arrived. Champion survived. This famous photo is known as “The Kiss of life.” (1967). Photo by Rocco Morabito.

This is the first time I have seen this picture or heard of it. It’s been around as long as I have and it found me in a time when it speaks a thousand words. Life is messy and complicated, but it doesn’t always take something this drastic to breathe life into someone or something. Our actions will always make us the heroes or the Standby er’s. We choose, we action, and we live with how we want to receive and spend our own Kiss of life.

Today we remember, not only this picture and this story but the story and the fate of many who never had the chance to decide. Our heart is heavy as we look back to this day 20 years ago, and remember life’s shattered and taken. It’s the story and the tragedy of 9/11 that changed each and every one of us forever. Not only the victims but also the survivors. We remember…

Pluviophile

“Sometimes it rains, but we don’t get wet”

Pluviophile (n) a lover of rain; someone who finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days.

The forecast called for rain last night and this morning. I was hoping that it wouldn’t miss me and instead provide a good and steady cleansing throughout the night. And it did. I woke several times hearing the drops hit the tin roof, heavier and softer at times. I immediately felt wrapped in comfort. I even slept decent which I was surprised of. For one because it was only my second night on the new mattress, and secondly because life happened in several areas yesterday. Not really anything that is a surprise, and one thing has been a long time in the making, but something that was finally put into action. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I get it and saw it coming, it got to me in the worst way. In the end I got some poetry out of it and named it “Coward,” making peace with myself and the feelings involved. But not before feeling a great deal of emotional, mental and physical pain yesterday. My health went right down the drain, to the point that I got pretty badly by the time I went to bed, contemplating if I should even go to bed and have another rough night. Well I am glad I did, and thank god the pain at that intensity was temporary. Then, came the rain, along with some pain meds and washed it all away, and I’m grateful.

In the far distance lightening strikes illuminated the night sky, but luckily no new fires have been reported. It rained the entire morning and it was wonderful. Cuddling with Cinnamon while looking out into the forest, watching the trees sway and my prayer flags dance in the wind. That’s at least what I was looking at, and I think she was more interested in the lizards occupying the little dirt mount. There I found further peace and serenity with all that is and all that will be. For some reason the rain brought out the playful nature in me this morning. Something I have seen too little of lately, and I made a promise to myself to make sure it never gets diminished again. Not by myself and definitely not by others. That power is reserved for ourselves and doesn’t belong into the pocket of others. The morning continued with good, hot coffee, morning snuggles with my favorite girl and singing and laughing. A few remnants from the day before still lingered and a little metal (heavy metal music) this morning with a song from Slaughter had me dancing and singing as if I had gone mad about you. More…please.

Yin – Yang

The ubiquitous yin-yang symbol holds its roots in Taoism/Daoism, a Chines religion and philosophy. The yin, the dark swirl, is associated with shadows, femininity, darkness, passivity, absorption and the trough of waves. The yang, the light swirl, represents brightness, heaven, maleness, activity, penetration, passion and growth. It is thought of as the two complementary forces that make up all aspects and phenomena of life. Here are a few more characteristics when it comes to yin and yang.

Yin: small, cold, subtle, textured, rough, quiet, old, dirty, slow, calm, curvy.

Yang: large, hot, bold, plain, smooth, loud, new, clean, fast, active, straight.

My yin-yang graphic is finally up and the Tiny abode is ever evolving. I’ve been doing some work over the last couple of days and I am grateful that I was physically up to it. Star-lights are hung, pictures and canvases went up, my hat has found it’s perfect place and even the new Mattress has shown up and is finally in place. What looked like a storage unit, has turned into a home again and a sanctuary. I am beyond glad about it, although the mattress left me feeling hurt and sore being too firm after sleeping on it for the first time. A 3” mattress topper is on the way and will hopefully come to my rescue. Geeeez…

I’ve had the decal for three month now, and putting it up was a tedious process that couldn’t be done alone. Had I known what was involved, it probably would have discouraged me from getting it. Of course it didn’t help that I picked a complex design with many dots, flower petals and the such of it. I’ve always been drawn not so much to the symbol itself that makes yin and yang, but to the concept of the darkness and the light. It lives within all of us and both sides are necessary as we go through our day to day life. Darkness and pain have been two of my greatest teachers and it usually takes a lot of ugliness that we face, from ourselves and others, until we are back on track and cross the hurdle we find ourselves stuck on. And sometimes it just takes a good kick in the ass to get us moving, even when it doesn’t feel pleasant at the time. Yin and yang is also represented in my two Remo drums of which one is black and the other one is white. The black one has a deep earth sound, like a bass and reminds me of the heartbeat of Mother Earth. A steady solid rhythm that is felt to the core. The white drum has a much higher, lighter sound, almost like an echo, reminding me of all that we aspire to, of karma and the return of all that we sent out into the world.

Looking at yin and yang, I wonder if there is a side I am more drawn to, a side that resembles me more. Honestly I can’t say and that itself is my answer as I am coming into balance between the darkness and the light.

Healers

I think there is a certain perception around healers. One that would indicate that they live a carefree life. That all boo boos are taken care of, and that they can freely and effortlessly tend to their own needs. For myself and a few others I found that this limited belief holds no truth or value. In fact I know of a couple others, shamanic healers as well as energy healers that struggle along despite their abilities to spread love and light, myself included.

Fact is that healers are no wonder beings. They are not perfect and they are actually far from it. They get drained easily, putting all of themselves into a healing for someone else. They feel action, emotions and even the unspoken word at a much deeper level than most. Healers are people who stared into the face of pain and suffering, found the courage to go on and managed to stare right back at it. Healers are not born this way and spend a great deal in darkness, isolated, trying to make sense of it all while finding there way. They are created out of their own adversity and trials. In the process of finding themselves, they hope to inspire others to do the same and in return they are rewarded with a great sense of contribution and making a difference in the world. This is one of the most important attributes of a healer. To matter, to help, to be heard and seen, to spread love and light, while instilling a sense serenity and hope. A sense of belonging. Healers are people who have learned to transform the pain into love and see the lessons and the silver lining.

Healers are people like you and me, struggling with every day life. We reinvent ourselves over and over, adjusting to stay flexible to the bends and twists of life. Healers light the way for others and usually carry a heavier burden until they arrive at that famous crossroads of giving up or serving as a beacon. All of us end up there, but not all of us hear the call to serve. It’s hard enough to make it on our own. Healers are no magicians and definitely don’t own a magic wand. There is nothing witch-crafty or abracadabra like going on, but a understanding that everything is energy and vibration.

I wish I could have known a healer or two throughout my life while I was growing up. To be able to tap into that guided wisdom while still figuring things out on my own. Sometimes it feels like an awful lot of time had to pass to figure it all out and I remind myself of the saying “Better later then never” while there is plenty left to learn. I can’t help but wonder at times of what would have been, who I would be, how lucky I would have been to have a father figure in my life and didn’t lose him at such a young age. I guess tonight I am walking down the path of memory lane, of what if’s, and what could have been. It’s a mere curiosity, one that doesn’t hold regrets or any hard feelings. It’s a realization that everything could have been completely different in the instance of a moment and it helps put my “now” into perspective.

Never trust a Mirror

We look into the mirror every day, but what is it that we truly see? Is it a quick glance to check our appearance, do we give ourselves a quick wink, or do we look at ourselves with a critical eye? Have you ever given yourself a pep talk while looking into the mirror? Maybe that critical eye is not just for the way we look, but a close, deep, in depth attempt to see who is looking back at us. This brings me to a little statement that says to never trust a mirror, because a mirror always lies. It makes you think that all you’re worth can be seen from the outside. Never trust a mirror, it only shows you what’s skin deep. You can’t see how your eyelids flutter when you’re drifting off to sleep. It doesn’t show you what the world sees when you’re only being you. Or how your eyes just light up when you’re loving what you do. It doesn’t capture when you’re smiling where no one else can see, and your reflection cannot tell you everything you mean to me. Never trust a mirror, for it only shows your skin, and if you think that it dictates your worth, it’s time you looked within.

~e.h.