Diane responded to one of my Facebook posts, one of my Summer of Surrender posts which talked about feeling the fear and doing it anyway. She said, “It’s like telling someone with a panic attack to go into the fear. It works, but it’s scary as hell.” She is so right. There is brilliance and freedom in that.
What I realized is that facing fear is like facing death. There’s a belief that I will succumb forever. I will cease to exist. The fear will overtake me like a roaring wave, an avalanche of pure terror that devours every cell of my body in its path of destruction.
And it really is destruction. What the wave eats, it burns. It takes all before it, consuming everything the cell has to offer, and more: its very mode of being. Once the usual, the habit, the accustomed, the daily routine has been destroyed, what is left?
Ashes. Space. Nothingness.
Cleanliness. A fresh start. Ultimate clarity.
And then a new confidence, an exultation and celebration that the old fear can no longer touch me, ever. I have experienced it fully and I survived. It became part of me, it took away what no longer belonged, and I am left with peace.
This is a reorienting to a new way of being. Suddenly the old is gone and I am left with an alert stillness, an exciting knowledge of infinite possibility and potential. I am so much bigger than I was before.
Because the real truth is, that when I face a fear and come out stronger on the other side, I realize that the fear wasn’t really such a big deal after all. The scariest part of feeling fear is the idea that I am too small for it. That I am not enough to come through. That I don’t have the force or energy or existence-ness to be big and strong and tall and happy and powerful. It’s not about the size of the fear, it’s about the insignificance of me.
Facing my fears, over and over and over again as each new one rears its head above me in the surf of my emotional illusions, only shows me the truth of who I am: I am God. I am divine. I am a drop in His ocean, made of the same stuff as everything else in the universe. Nothing and no one can be insignificant because we all are holy and we all wear the face of God.
Our fears are just a reflection back to us, of a part of our being that is wave-like. Our fears are aroused by our experiences, they ripple the surface of our lives, seeming harmless among the depths. As our moments become more acute, the waters become shallow, and the wave of fear rises up, suspended in air, curling around our sharp rocks. We hold our breath to stop time.
Then, the surrender.
Let the breath go. Let it out. Breathe out with force and strength and also with the knowledge that it may be your last exhalation.
The wave crests, the fear spirals in upon itself. It also has nowhere to go. The fear also panics that it cannot maintain its course. It no longer knows who or what it is. It also surrenders to its own path, to its own beauty.
I have never felt compassion for fear, before.
The final climactic fall: the wave slams itself against the beach. It beats itself out of existence on the sand. It dies. The water returns to the sea, cleansed, leaving its flotsam at the highwater mark. It becomes part of the eddy, it feeds the creatures in and around it, perhaps it melds with the next wave.
And the cycle begins again, but the water knows its worth.
This is what facing fear means to me.
What does it mean to you?
I've had a hard time explaining what I do to people, which makes it really tough to market my services effectively.
"I'm a healer."
"I talk to people about their life purpose."
"I help people clear the blocks that are getting in the way of their happiness."
"I'm a hand reader."
"I'm an EFT Practitioner."
None of those explanations really do it for me. Or for my prospective clients.
So my teacher, Richard Unger, founder of the International Institute of Hand Analysis, asked me this question the other day: "What do your clients get out of working with you?"
I asked my clients.
The answers were astounding.
"You keep me inspired...you catapult me further in life."
"I felt reassured that I'm awesome and that I have a lot to offer to the world."
"I am a little calmer about handling problems and I feel a renewed interest in pursuing my dreams."
"A deeper awareness of my life's purpose."
"I developed more confidence in my being, was able to just own my gifts and talents."
"I came home that day feeling good."
So, I am a healer who helps people feel happier and more purposeful. I change lives. It is a very humbling thing, to hold someone's soul in my hands and infuse it with all the love I can, and to witness the transformations that take place right before my eyes.
Reading hands and tapping are just some of the "hows," not the "what. "
The intensity of my attention on you, my client, is so strong when we are sitting in my office together! My vision narrows to just you. My body heats up. I sweat. The communication channels are wide open--not just between me and you but between us and Source. There is a third presence in this tiny room on the West side, and it informs our time together. I rest in it, knowing it is here for our benefit.
I invite you to experience the joy of being seen. Fully. Positively. In all your Glory and "Rightness." Bring your questions, your curiosity about yourself and this thing called "Scientific Hand Analysis." I won't wear a turban or gaze into a crystal ball. I will use a magnifying glass and a flashlight to gaze into your hands, and I will talk with you about your Life Purpose as it appears in your fingerprints.
You decide what it means to you, and what you want to do with the information I give you. You decide if the Life Purpose that I illuminate for you fits what you already know about yourself and your secret yearnings.
You decide how you want to describe exactly what it is that I do, for you.
I had the most amazing experience three days ago, and I’m still feeling the effects of it. Not sure how far it’s going to take me, but I’m exhilarated by the ride!
My friends Janene and Nicole are healers. Both are incredible in their own ways, with their own modalities. Janene Cummings is a Vocal Toning healer, myinnerharmony.com. She sings and plays you into ecstasy, peace and transformation. Nicole Smith, chenergy.us, is an energy light worker who also uses aromatherapy, to assist you in recognizing your own greatness. At least that is what these two did for me.
They had never supported a client together before. I was the first lucky one to experience the wealth of having both of them in the room at the same time, directing their love and healing intentions toward me. I’m such a lucky gal.
I laid on the table while Janene sat at the piano a few feet away. Nicole put some essential oils on my feet, and I began a journey through my root, sacral, solar plexus and heart chakras which gave me an entirely new picture of myself. I’ll try to explain it to you.
The energy Nicole was connecting with was a combination or concentration of my own, hers, and Other. It all focused in a stream and traveled up my body. My feet and legs felt solid as an oak tree. I had never felted so rooted, ever. I was supporting myself from the earth. Root chakra? Check.
Relationships came to mind. My wants and desires. What did I want to explore in this session? What lesson was I ready to learn? How deep could this connection between Nicole, Janene and I go? Sacral chakra? Check.
A beam of light energy shot into my solar plexus; from Nicole, from Source, I don’t know. It didn’t matter. It went into my solar plexus from the front, then curved around and came back out through my heart, then up to Source again while it looped around and came into solar plexus, down and around and out through my heart. I wondered what the relationship was between the two. Solar plexus chakra? Checkity check check.
Before I move on to my heart, remember that Janene is playing the piano and singing all this time. Her melodies and voice are a cloud upon which I rest. I’m a cherub in an old-fashioned painting, lying on a cloud with my friends, playing a harp and looking adorable. There was never a moment when the cloud of her music was not supporting me. I felt loved, coddled, safe and protected.
Heart chakra. Here’s where it gets interesting. In my mind’s eye, my own fleshy heart felt small. Weak. Skipping beats, ready to fail. It could stop at any moment, was barely strong enough to support me lying on the table. I felt protective of it, fearful it couldn’t handle this intense experience.
Then I felt a light. The bright cone of illumination started at a single point in my chest, just in front of my wimpy heart. It shone outward, forward out of my chest, flaring outward with great intensity. But it did not touch the weak, small heart behind it. They were separate things.
I talked to Nicole throughout this experience. One of the things she is really good at is meeting me where I am, and not backing down when a challenge is called for. She is sort of an expert at provoking people with love and compassion. She challenged me to turn the light around and shine it on myself. I tried. I could only turn it halfway, so it was shining to the side. It took too much effort. Then we talked and decided to just back the light up a few inches, so it was behind my heart and not in front of it. That worked! The light shone on my poor little heart. Heart chakra? Check!
The four chakras I had activated then merged. I saw them as a living channel, a tube of energy and flesh, from root to heart and beyond. It stretched toward my head, enveloped Throat, Third Eye and Crown, then flared out above my head. The light in my body then turned upward and also shone out through the top of my head, growing wider and lovelier as it extended from my body.
And then I understood the relationship between the chakras. First root, then sacral, then solar plexus, etc. Only when the lower chakra is activated can the next higher one engage. I can’t skip up to my sacral chakra without addressing the needs of the root first. Of course I had heard this many times, but this time I actually felt it. My solar plexus became so clear. My boundaries became clear. My power gathered and hummed. And only then could I really expand and strengthen the heart, and truly love myself and others. I’m sure I’ll have more experiences with my upper three chakras but for now my focus was on solar plexus and heart.
I gathered in the strength of love and support I felt from Janene and Nicole. They were holding me, on a cloud of acceptance and encouragement. Nicole challenged me again. I got angry.
My focus shifted. I saw myself as a lighted core with a fleshy membrane all around me: my body. Skin, muscles, organs, bones. And I knew what I needed to do.
It was the hardest thing. I gave up. I surrendered. It felt like dying. I told myself, if I’m going to die doing this, at least I’m with people who love me and understand. What better moment could I choose to obliterate myself?
My membrane, my body, dissolved. All outer defenses melted away with my own sense of who I am and how I exist in the world. All that was left was the channel, from root to crown.
And in that moment, if you can stand to believe me, I saw God. Grey beard, piercing kind eyes, the whole flowing robes thing. He was hovering about ceiling height, looking right at me. He reached for me, and my light then expanded as I reached for him. We merged, I felt so connected, and I was complete.
It only took a few seconds for my busy brain to butt in, trying to make sense of this whole experience. It’s still playing with it, three days later. But in that time I have also run through a gamut of emotions: a sense of my own unlimited power, clarity around boundaries and desires. Sadness, depression. Then fear. Today I am more settled. I have reconsidered every relationship I have, and I am renegotiating some of them based upon my new sense of clarity around my own limits, my respect for myself, and my own desires. I feel I can love more authentically now. I can love others from the overflow of my own self-love. I see it so clearly. I know how it works.
Change happens to us. Transformation occurs inside, as a result of the change. We can resist it, we can be neutral, or we can seek it out and embrace it. I’m a seeker. I love this dynamic of living, loving, learning and growing. I will never stop growing.
If you are curious about having a double-shot experience of Nicole Smith and Janene Cummings, I highly encourage you to book a session with them. I’d be happy to answer any questions you have, about them, about my experience, or about whatever you want to explore. Nothing is beyond your reach. Even loving yourself. Thank you.
I stand at the edge of a crumbling cliff, 500 feet high. To stay is to die. To jump is also to die.
Stuffing, denying and suffering from old psychological wounds is like staying at the edge of that disappearing cliff. Embarking upon the healing journey is like jumping.
What’s a human to do?
Most of us feel that status quo is safe. Yet the ground is falling away beneath our feet! Staying stuck in place actually brings us much more pain than is necessary. There is another choice.
Jumping is the better option, and I’ll tell you why.
I’ve been through this many times in my healing journey, and I know it first-hand. Here’s the secret that only a few intrepid souls know about, because our vision is short-sighted:
WHEN WE JUMP, WE DO NOT DIE, BUT WE DO TRANSFORM!
The second my feet leave the edge of that deadly, high precipice, everything changes. I see the ground far below me, I fall upright, floating like a feather on a breeze, and I see with eagle eyes the exact spot on which my feet will gently touch the ground.
By surrendering to the process and taking that leap of faith, I touch God.
In the instant that I accept the impossible challenge of jumping into the unknown, it becomes known, and I am healed.
Dismissing a childhood of abuse, “forgetting” an attempted rape, refusing to communicate with a divorced parent, or pretending to be a Stepford wife, these are all attempts to deny our past, deny our dark places.
Yet these unlit spaces are a part of us, so they cannot be left behind.
And most importantly, they are actually our gifts in disguise.
Our job is to unwrap these gifts, peeling back the worn, stained, odorous wrappings that keep their true brilliance hidden from us and from the world.
The point of no return, for me, is when I make a conscious decision to move toward my gift. Healing is jumping anyway.
And the miracle of that fateful and faithful leap is that once I step off into the abyss, clarity and safety and ease come to my rescue. Healing becomes mine. I own myself.
I land, and I can move forward with a lighter step and higher purpose in this new place of sunshine and green grass.
If I had a scale, and on one side I placed the weight of our dark fears, hidden pains and silent suffering, and on the other side the vulnerability and discomfort of going through the healing process, the scale would tip decidedly down on the dark fear side. We suffer so much more than we need to, because we don’t know how easy it can be to heal!
The process I go through while approaching the cliff of “death” is simple and certainly not revolutionary. All I really do is slow down and pay attention to myself.
Specifically, I first NOTICE a discomfort or misalignment in my physical body.
Then I LABEL that negative energy or feeling, according to my understanding.
Finally, I EXPRESS the feeling in an authentic way, expelling it from my body and from my life.
This process of noticing, labeling, and expressing brings me awareness, wisdom and clarity. It never fails me.
I trust it, even as I experience the distrust of a child whose father left.
I believe in it, even as I remember the disvelief and shock of a youthful betrayal.
Unfailingly, this forward movement brings me closer to my pure self and my life purpose.
This trust and faith in the healing process is available to everyone. So what’s holding you back? Walk to the edge of your own cliff, and fly!
I met God this morning. Around 6:50 a.m.
Direct contact. With Him. With Her? Felt more like a Him.
He had a small smile on His face. Just for me. He blessed me with peace and understanding.
Let me tell you what I experienced, and what I know. For this is not the first time he has blessed me so, but this was the most direct connection I have ever felt, and I want to capture the feeling before it fades; if it is possible for something so simple yet so profound to ever dissipate.
I woke up an hour early as my husband closed the door. It was 6:00, I could sleep more. So I stayed warm in my covers, snuggled up with my sheets and myself, with my favorite soft and lightweight small blanket at my feet in tangles around my toes. This is the greatest secret to a quick go-back-to-sleep. For those whose feet get cold at night, this little blankie is just a toe’s reach away. Grab it between two feet, drag it toward yourself from the downward curve at the base of the mattress, then plunge both feet into it like a warm hug. Your feet will not only feel warm quickly, but they will also feel loved. And so will you. Guaranteed. Try it tonight. And if the rest of your body needs an Olaf (“I like warm hugs!) then reach down with your fingertips and pull it up around your body like a cocoon. Instant security. Fast track to back-to-sleep.
Only this morning I didn’t sleep. That’s OK, at least I was comfortable. I wandered around in my mind for a while, dozing around comforting thoughts.
Then an uncomfortable feeling arose. A remembering from yesterday. I was safe enough in my nest to try it on, so I did.
How do I define it? It comes upon me at frequent intervals, especially when I’m tired or feeling disconnected. It’s that feeling of alone-ness. Like I’m the only person in my world, and there will never be anyone else in my space. It’s gray, it’s a mist, it’s a cloud that hovers over me. It surrounds me. It’s just a mist, yet I can’t see through it. It’s depression, it’s alienation, it’s despair. It’s the belief that I’m the only person who has ever experienced this before, and it is my lot. Resignation. Separation. I remembered and felt this feeling, this morning at 6:50 a.m.
Nothing new in this feeling for me, it’s been around my whole life, coming and going. Sometimes I can force it away with activity, connection with others, exercise. But it’s a constant shadow, lurking and waiting to show itself again.
But this morning was different in a very slight way, yet as I was to discover, a very profound way. Let me explain.
I’ve been on a healing journey. All of my adult life, really. Exploring ways to heal from a childhood of abuse and loneliness. And I’ve made tremendous strides. In the last two years this has taken the form of learning scientific hand analysis and EFT, or tapping, both as a means of self-healing and providing a means for helping others to heal. The growth has been dramatic and is expanding exponentially. Revelations come at least weekly. Last week I had three in three days. Major cognitive shifts rain down on me like blessings from above. I can not keep up with my writing about it.
So I know the process, you see. I understand the evolution of a negative experience to a negative thought to a negative belief, to a negative habit. Unwinding this over and over again has brought me joy and connection and power.
So why not point this highly developed skill at my gray fog of depression and alienation? Why not just blast it out of existence?
Well, it’s just that easy. And it’s also not that easy.
Because I can’t direct that healing energy at a negative habit until I can see the habit as separate from me. Until I do that, it is accepted, like a heavy foggy coat that settled on my shoulders long ago. It fits so well that it functions like a second skin. I don’t see it as separate. I can’t. My eyes are blind to its differentness. My eyes are blind to my Self and its purity. I see only flaws. Limitations. My Life Lessons. I own them. They define me because I am not ready to see things differently.
But this morning, at 6:50 a.m., I was ready. Just barely a little bit ready. I took on the “concept” of my gray cloak of mist. I experienced it as one one-hundredth of one millimeter apart from my skin. Just a tiny separation. And that’s when God came in.
It only lasted a second in human time.
Suddenly that fraction of space between me and my gray shadow blew up. Exploded. Crystallized and shattered into a million fragments of clear glass.
The bond was broken. And then the vision came.
That gray cloak/second skin came loose. It gently separated from my skin and floated upward, into the sky. And as it left my body, I realized how gray my vision had always been. It had even coated my eyes. The filter was removed and I could see clearly, first from just under its lower edge, then all around as it lifted over my head, flapped in the breeze a bit, and moved away. It was shaped like a gray Pacman, or a dingy sheet that a kid wears as a ghostly Halloween costume. And not only was it separate from me, it was moving away.
In its place was a new, cleaner me. Without the gray. Without the weight of its oppression and without its restrictive binding. My body could move more freely.
I looked around. Wonderful.
I looked up. Into bright blue skies. And I saw God.
I understood then. He was showing me his creation. Our world. Our purpose as human beings. Our process of unfolding and unraveling the tangles that we are given in this life. And with each strand that is released, it becomes easier to know Him and to know ourselves.
He smiled at me with a small smile, and I understood.
A flood of tears followed: release of tension that I hadn’t realized I had been holding in my body and in my heart. And with the tears, with the vision of God in my mind’s eye, and the knowledge of his powerful love for me, I was humbled. I was awed. I knelt down on the floor, put my face and body and arms low on the floor. He smiled at me while I was flattened by the awareness of his love for me. My tears cleansed me, inside and out. Thank you, God.
I was ready to take on my gray cloak this morning. I had the wisdom, the skills, the space and time, the motivation, and the belief that miracles can happen if I have faith. And mostly, I had the previous experiences that showed me how. How to state my intention to heal. To ask for healing, and to know that healing will come. It’s an active and a passive movement, both at the same time. I am actively seeking healing. I take classes. I study. I think. I write. I talk to friends who understand. And I am passively allowing healing to take place. I meditate. I dream. I surrender. I wait. I have faith.
God IS with us. He is with us all. All the time. The great irony is that He is the one who has given us our gray veil in the first place! It can seem so cruel that we must struggle and deny and fight and suffer and lose. And it IS cruel. So cruel that there are no words to describe the depth of its pain.
The second great irony is that it is so easy to release the veil. Oh, if only I’d known this 40 years ago! I could have saved myself so much suffering. But it is the work, and the effort, and the intention to heal that has allowed me to learn about healing. To begin to master even a teensy bit of the power of intention.
And now I bring this knowledge to bear for my own well-being and increased capacity for joy and meaning. And I bring this knowledge to bear for others who are seeking healing for themselves. I can help them. They must do the work, but it can be infinitely easier with me by their side, guiding and leading and encouraging.
I turn on the light of healing for you. It is now 7:00 a.m. and it’s time to wake up.
Once upon a time there was a soul—pure, innocent, open and sweet.
This soul was me, this soul was you. We had everything we needed, and our wants were in line with reality: love, light, clarity. We lived in a state of perpetual adoration towards everything around and within us.
We were clean.
Birth as a physical being then sparkled as a sunrise on the future’s horizon. We felt drawn towards this other light with its presence and its dense matter. Where are we going? What experience is beckoning? How shall we meet this gravitational adventure?
Our guides support us in choosing the formula for this lifetime. What will we need to clothe our sweet soul during this solid existence? We choose our flavors: courage, applause, leadership; scarcity, violation, grief. Knowing what we learned last time around, we up the ante. There is a goal here. Existence for its own sake is rootless, but existence for the purpose of becoming closer to Source is a worthwhile endeavor.
We attach our choices to our essence with firm fasteners. They will not come loose during this lifetime. They emit a strong outward magnetic pull. The need for applause has a vacuum-force that reaches out with Velcro arms to catch and imprison episodes of approval. Grief also grasps and will not let go.
Then we are born.
Our Velcro-vacuums begin to work immediately. Each of us experiences the full range of emotional encounters, but only our pre-life choices have that express connection to our core. Now those matching experiences stick like super glue. We have asked for this specific formula, remember? So we are especially sensitive to these frequencies. And we begin to gather baggage.
Still, as children, we have long moments of peace and joy. Our burdens are still light.
As we grow older we exhibit patterns of behavior consistent with our burdens and our gifts. How do we navigate this dance of light and darkness? How can we find the best path through our prickly garden, so that we smell the sweet scents and see the vibrant colors as often as possible?
This is an unconscious journey. We are beings without awareness of choice. Our time has not yet come to question by stepping outside what is known. All is well….
Then we are laid low. Experiences pile up, tragedy strikes, out of the blue, beyond our choice and control. We become victims.
In fairy tales, this is where the princess falls asleep. Or is locked in a tower. Or the king and queen die and she is forced to live in slavery. In some way, she is outcast, seemingly through no fault of her own.
After years have passed, someone arrives to help: a fairy godmother, a handsome prince, a genie. A force of magic awakens us, all is put to right, and the princess lives happily ever after.
I propose that we are our own genies. We have the power to wake ourselves up from the sleeping spell. But it is not easy to pick ourselves up off the floor. Physically it is impossible. But somehow, some of us do it.
What is this process of saving ourselves? It takes infinite forms, unique for each of us, but it is born of a desire to get out of pain. Something is unbearably uncomfortable. One of our Velcro-vacuums has met its quota and filled its reservoir of misery: our need for approval has been denied by a series of humiliating experiences, culminating in ridicule and ostracism. Or Grief has overwhelmed all our senses and now colors every minute of our day. Or perhaps scarcity has gathered so much momentum that we are constantly manifesting loss and need. Or we are in physical pain.
This pain, whether physical or emotional, gets our attention. We ignore it or deny it, and we do this successfully for a long time. Perhaps for the rest of our lifetime.
Or we may tackle the pain head-on: think about it, talk about it, write about it, exercise about it, see a therapist or a doctor about it.
At first it makes no sense. We are given answers and advice that serve the needs of the advice-giver. We try on different solutions. Some partially fit. Some allow us to limp on.
Ultimately we must find our own solutions, the ones that make sense inside of us, that speak our unique language. Stumbling upon these aha moments is a gift of grace, a momentary elation that marks our progress toward cleanliness.
And when we do have these realizations, it is a dumping out of the Velcro-vacuum clog. It is a switching off of the suction power, even if just for a moment, to allow the collected mass of energy, positive or negative, to be released. And when the switch is turned back on again, as it must be for the duration of this lifetime, the power of the suction is less. The contract has been fulfilled to a degree by the wholeheartedness with which we have embraced this experience. We breathe deeply and sigh, and rest.
Another aha moment arrives after repeating this experience enough times to see a pattern. “Oh! I see it now! I understand the process through which I can fulfill my life’s agenda!”
And one by one, we address the needs of our soul for this lifetime. We notice. We zero in on a particular Velcro-vacuum. We bring it to a level of awareness that makes it impossible to ignore. We think about it, talk, write, exercise, therapize, and clear. Each time we do this our soul-bodies become cleaner, our chosen Velcro-vacuums smaller and less powerful. And we move through our days with greater ease and higher perspective.
When we get back to our Place and recount our experiences and learnings, what will we report? How fully did we live this life we chose?
All right, this is weird, but I was asked to share it, so here it is. Last night I went to a Vocal Toning event at my friend Janene Cummings' house. Janene is uber gifted at the piano, has a voice like warm chocolate syrup, and gives the warmest, safest hugs of anyone I know. She hosts toning events at her house in Olympia. Toning is an ancient, natural form of sound healing; it utilizes the voice to promote the release of blocked energy that manifests as physical or emotional discomfort. For more information about Janene, click here.
During our singing event, Janene very thoughtfully guided us through images of clearing out negative energies, and bringing healing light to ourselves and to the world. At one point she had us focus our energy onto our hands, rub them together, hold them apart, then move them slowly toward each other until we felt resistance between them. We formed an energy ball between our hands. Mine was rather large: about 18 inches in diameter. As we moved further along with the toning, I had the following vision.
The energy ball became the Earth. I held it in my hands, in my arms, like I was keeping it safe. It was beautiful, with clouds and blue oceans and brown land masses, and snowy mountains.
I wondered, Where am I on this Earth? I was a pinprick on North America, too small to see with the naked eye. Is this all that I am? As I watched with my mind’s eye, I grew taller. My chest pushed forward, shoulders drew back, face turned up, and I grew and grew and grew. My body was part of the Earth, the lower half of me embedded in a rocky hillside. The rocks grew as I grew. Pieces broke away as we erupted together, boulders tumbling down and crashing to the ground below as my body and the matrix it was embedded in thrust upward, toward the sky.
When the growth stopped, I saw the Earth, still about 18 inches across, with this huge craggy me-mountain sticking straight up another 18 inches or so, about 6 inches across at the base and narrowing at the top, hard as stone and pulsing with life. My skin was in some places soft and fleshy, and in other places brown and stony, merging with the mountain that was my foundation, my lower half.
I enjoyed this vision for a few moments, and then looked to my dear friend sitting next to me. Where is my friend in this world of mine? Is she just a dot on my Earth? And suddenly she was holding an Earth in her hands, just like I had been, and then she too grew out of her own Earth with her skin melding with stone and with her own colors and shape. I smiled at her.
I turned to the woman on my left, and the same thing happened, and then to Janene, our hostess, and the same thing happened again. We were no longer just four women sitting around a piano singing hallelujah, we were four magnificent, individual and complete souls, anchored to our own Earths.
What about the rest of the population? I then saw billions of these Earth-Mountain-Statues, all floating around in space, suspended by nothing, just existing. This is the human race.
What of God? He was there, above and behind my left shoulder, normal-sized compared to my actual physical body, but much larger than the Earth-Beings floating all around. His beard was gray, very long, and wavy, and his robes draped over his shoulders and arms. His eyes saw everyone, simultaneously. He was smiling, nearly chuckling as his secrets were revealed to me. I could not see what his mountain-body looked like, could not look upon his foundation for being. Only his upper body was visible to me.
Now what, God?
He smiled at me, and his hands raised immediately, poised in the air like a conductor timing the first beat. And in fact, that is exactly who he was. He moved his arms to the beat of the most beautiful, flowing, complex, poignant and joyful music I have ever heard. I saw the music. I saw the five lines of a music staff flowing from his hands in undulating waves, up and down, back and forth. And each Human-Earth rushed eagerly to find a place between those lines, laughing and smiling as they jostled together in joy. The Human-Earths each became a single note in this creative melody of life.
My physical body sang in tune with the three women in the room, Janene accompanying us, guiding us, inspiring us. The sounds really are just vibrations. And that is what connects each soul: vibrations. The sounds we were making, and the sounds God’s choir was making, they were waves shimmering through space and time, flowing through matter to provide each of us with the language we need to talk to each other, with and without words, and always with love.
What does this all mean?
We are not merely physical beings taking up ever-lessening space on this finite blue and brown and white planet. We are not crowding each other at all. Rather, we are each of us a part of our own Earth. We each have our own world to live in. We are defined in this lifetime by the planet to which we are born: space, time, matter, energy, color, form, society. It is all ethereal as a soap bubble. And also hard as rock.
This is why we cannot inhabit another’s world. It is their own, and only they can see it and experience it the way they are meant to. We each have our own world to live in. My space is here, and it is for me, in which to learn and to grow and to show my face to the sun. The illusion is this: we feel separate and alone, and we struggle to survive. The truthful melody is this: we have been planted upon a speck of dust for a short period of time, to sprout and take root and to grow, given the constraints of physicality. Yet all the while we are a soulful and unending note in the melody of love.
What is hand analysis? What is a "reading?"
I get this a lot.
Sometimes the question comes from a place of curiosity, and sometimes it comes from a place of fear. Why would someone be afraid of having their hands read? I have a theory about this.
One reason I have seen is that they think I will see their future; in particular, when they will die, and who wants to know that? Let me tell you very clearly that THE FUTURE IS NOT WRITTEN IN YOUR HANDS. I don't predict anything. I cannot read death, illness, or accidents in your hands. What I DO see are:
--PERSONALITY TRAITS such as stubborn, nurturing, analytical, flexible...
--GIFTS such as healing, solving big problems, stamina, courage, cleverness...
--STRENGTHS such as leadership, creativity, communication, manifesting...
--WEAKNESSES such as speaking up, dealing with money, power issues, fear of rejection...
--and other things that help show where the most meaning and fulfillment lies for you.
Another reason people could be fearful of a hand reading is that they think it will show where they are not living their fullest, best life. They think I will give them a failing grade in Life 101. But I am not a judge.
In both of these situations, I assert that there is nothing to fear by having your hands read. It is a positive, supportive experience that might even make you laugh. I am gentle with your soul. I meet you where you are. And if there is one thing I know for sure, it is that we are all doing the very best we can.
So question your fears, if you have any, and satisfy your curiosity by contacting me about a hand reading. I would love to help you manifest your most meaningful life. You might be surprised at how simple it really is.