Thursday, June 23, 2011

The Hero of Your Heart

Here we are, half way 2011, how is your year so far? In spite of a series of difficult years with unbelievable twists and turns, I continue to greet each year with optimism. I know this year will be better because, well, it has to! First we lost our jobs and our savings, then our homes then our good credit ratings - gone! Now peeled down to the basic necessities of life, time with our family, our people, became the treasure we lost financially. Vacations have become stay-cations and we spent more time with people closest to us however, there is the old saying, "familiarity breeds contempt", and that it has. Too much time together seems to magnify everything that bothers us about the other.

What happened then? Suffering financial instability brought up core fears.  We question our ability to survive, we feel socially vulnerable at suffering such material loss. Our pain and humiliation mutates and spews out at others in the form of judgment. Does fear produce judgment or does judgment produce fear?

Today's issues are of the heart. Time to work on the really juicy stuff - judgment and criticism! Isn't it fun? Of course it isn't. My heart was broken when I learned that someone close and trusted was judging me in private and acting loving to my face. Is that because it's just easier than being honest? I think so. This must be a beautiful opportunity to be judged and feel such sadness.

The truth is, this sadness is a beautiful opportunity. It is perfect because in the second half of my life, I have a renewed commitment to be that change I wish to see in the world. My pain from judgment is likely the same as yours. Judgment I hold is not different than judgment held on me. It is time to make choices, on purpose and out loud. Time to make righteous choices about the purity of the vibration I am sending and harboring.

One of the great teachers of our time, Caroline Myss describes judgment as the most harmful vibration, something like a curse. How does it feel when you have passed judgment? At first powerful, immediately followed by justification all wrapped up in denial. We’re just calling it like we see it, it is the truth after all. I’m not judging, I’m just being honest, and you know, if you can’t take a little constructive criticism…on and on and on.

Judgment not only hurts the one being judged, it hurts us to hold it. When we embody judgment what it says is...I am so afraid that someone might see through me that I must deflect my sense lack toward someone else. The best defense is a good offense right? Not in life, not in relationships. Choosing to hold judgment takes a toll on us physically, emotionally and spiritually. We must be impeccable in our thoughts and words and we must do it on purpose. Whatever judgment we hold will be held in our bodies and souls leaving a wake of broken relationships and soiled communications.

Join me in staring down the coward inside that wants it to be about everyone else.  It is time to reunite with the hero of your heart that wants nothing more than unconditional love. Let's do it, it's time. Be the hero of your heart.

Saturday, June 11, 2011

Julie "Less Than" Has Left The Building

I don't know how I could have been so naive, or maybe it wasn't naive, maybe it was distracted?  Was I distracted or do I really lack initiative and common sense?  I did not realize that while I was stumbling through last year I was treading on those close to me. 

Something I have known over the years is that there are times when I am slow on getting things.   I hesitate saying so because those coming to me for readings have some expectation that I have all the answers and live in an amazing "got-it-all-together" life. I apologize for bursting your bubble if you are of this belief.  I am just me, Julie, learning as I go.

I have learned along the way. The challenges and difficulties I have waded through and overcome have taught me how to step forward into each new day and each new lesson.  I bless each sunrise as my opportunity to do-over that which I have failed to do to my satisfaction the day before.

Much to my surprise last fall, it was brought to my attention that I had become less than helpful, that I would not only not step-up to the plate to help clean-up, but if I did help I would claim some "mysterious" pain and stop helping.  I was utterly shocked - standing there with dish pan hands...really? I don't help enough?  Oh. 

This accusation knocked my legs out from under me.  I was in disbelief and crushed that this feeling of my lack had obviously been discussed with others but not with me.

Here is my truth.  Last year I ended my marriage, a 15 year relationship. Last year, I started a "real" job 5 days a week that includes a difficult commute.  I stopped working-out in part because of the job but also because I started having chronic pain in the leg that just got a new hip the year before.  Both of my sons left home to begin their lives out in the world.  It was a year of colossal change for me, maybe they are right.  Maybe I have dropped the ball these last several months, I certainly felt out of sorts.

My experience has shown that when someone feel strongly about something, their feeling stems from a spark of truth. There may be lots of superfluous details surrounding it, but there is a basis of truth. I strive to embrace that truth and not throw myself headlong into a defensive, reactive state.  Easier said than done when you're already twirling around in a new ungrounded reality and a life that is changing at an alarming rate.  In the past, I have considered it a downfall of mine to bow down to others uncharitable opinions of me, to take their judgment to heart and accept my position as "less than".  It's not uncommon I know, many of us are in good company in the "less than" category. 

Something changed for me last year, well many things changed.  I turned 50.  It's a number - a biggish number that somehow granted me permission to lift myself up from "less than" and strive to at least be equal to.  Not only did I give myself permission to be equal to, I also evolved my terms of engagement.  I reject "less than".  Julie "Less Than" has left the building.  Don't come looking for her and expect her to be the bigger person and suck it up when you want to dump on her - it ain't gonna happen. 

This propping up did not happen overnight - it was a full 50 years in the making.  How many times have I made excuses for another persons bad behavior or maltreatment of me?  How many times had I made it right or OK for someone to disrespect or degrade me?  So many times - weekly, daily - hourly.  I'm done.  That's it.  Or so I thought.

 A new attack from another corner.  Apparently I have no common sense and do not understand people.  Wow.  Crushed, humiliated, demoralized.  It wasn't the harshest thing anyone had ever said but it stung.  Did I mention that 5 days prior I had to have an ovary removed?  Another story for another day.  Suffice it to say I wasn't in my best form when this blow was leveled.  What happened next was a deep level of release of Julie "Less Than".  Tears flowed, for hours.  I could not stop them, they came, for days.  It became very clear that in my desire to honor their truth I had given up my right to believe in my own goodness.  I had forsaken myself.
Maybe I did walk away from doing dishes, maybe common sense isn't my strongest quality, I do not agree but I am not looking at me through their eyes.  Could it be that these observations and judgments on me were a calling to my soul? A call to recognize and claim who I know myself to be?  Was this happening to help me forward in my life growth? Of course it is, it always is. It's never for nothing.  When I reflect on who I perceive myself to be in the world, I know from my heart, I do the best I can with what I have in that moment.  I believe in my goodness, I accept that I may appear something other than that to you.  Your opinion of me is none of my business.  You are free to hold me in whatever light you deem appropriate, it is your choice.

Likewise, it is my choice to hold myself in the light I deem appropriate.  I am a work in progress.  Some edges are rough, but many are smooth.  I promise to continue to search for the spark of truth in your assessment of me though I will not apologize to you for your opinion of me.  I promise to me, that I will be faithful to who I know myself to be and I will no longer dwell in the land of "less than".  If you see yourself in these words, won't you join me?  Drop me a note and tell me your story, I would love to hear from you. 

Thank you for sharing this personal moment on my path.  May you be and feel truly blessed.

P.S. Peace has been renewed in all relationships mentioned above, my people are awesome.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Our Friend Darren

Yesterday I attended a memorial service to honor a man who left a profound mark on our community. I did not stand up to speak then but would like to share these words.

There was a large crowd, well over 200. In listening to the many memories of Darren and the many good deeds he had done, I learned of the legacy and gift of Darren's time here among us. I heard story after story of how Darren showed up and made things happen, literally. He created a softball program and state of the art facility for his daughter’s high school with elbow grease and I'm guessing his boyish charm. His fellow coaches could not say enough about their friend that would miraculously appear with whatever was needed to manifest this dream. Whether it was a bull dozer or back hoe, Darren somehow showed up with the supplies and equipment needed to make this dream field a reality. He wasn't only involved in softball. Darren showed up for games and performances for each of his 5 children, from ballet to football to softball. He showed up.

Grown men cried, their grief overwhelming, their loyalty and friendship to Darren and his family, resounding. What has Darren taught us?

A picture his lifetime was painted in words and emotion. As a child Darren spent the school year in Healdsburg and summers in Hawaii with his Mom. In what sounded like a wonderful and carefree childhood had to have been at least a bit difficult moving around so. Darren spent time living with many families that still call him brother. The one thing he truly wanted in his life, was a big family. He succeeded in creating a big family, one that went well beyond blood lines.

The net he wove of tasks and deeds earned him respect, but he did more. The tasks were not Darren, the magic was. He brought people together to build dreams and then make them come true. Looking in, it seems apparent that he worked at connecting many people’s lives to create that very big family.

One of his daughters said to me, "I don't even know these people." Feeling, perhaps, lost among this sea of people, strangers who all showed up out of their love for her father. I felt sad for her. Grief is so personal and she seemed uncomfortable at having to share this symbolic goodbye with strangers. Maybe I am wrong, and she too was overwhelmed by the overflow of love.

As the stories continued and folks pointed upwards in reference to him I was soothed by the feeling that he was not above us but rather among us. He wasn't watching over us, he was milling around with a beer in one hand and a Jello shot in the other.

My work brings those in mourning, those with a desire to know if their loved ones are safe, if they are ok. Two constant messages from the other side to loved ones are, "Only my body is gone.", and "The pain I knew is gone, I am at peace." I trust this is true for Darren. A man who asked for nothing and endured pain we know nothing of, is thank God, without pain. We are the ones with pain, not Darren.

What is the legacy of Darren's too short time here among us? Darren fostered enduring relationships and loyalty that will hold his family in their grief and allow them to heal and grow through it. The seeds of generosity that Darren planted will grow through his children and they will feel his love through their community for many years to come.

Darren literally created the softball community. He coached a generation of young women who I believe, saw the example of a "real man". Darren’s physical and intellectual strength, a productive disposition that did not whine and complain showed those girls that you can make something out of nothing. Darren got things done, all with one of the most beautiful smiles you have ever seen.

I remember Darren as a great Cribbage partner with a booming laugh and a sincere desire to make people happy.

As the memorial concluded all were invited to share food, wine, beer and yes of course, Jello shots. Our friend Darren left this world a better place.

Please keep the Barnes family in your highest thoughts and prayers as they begin to adjust to their changed lives. We must remember that the space between us disappears in prayer. God Bless you Darren.

                          Darren William Barnes
                  January 21, 1965 – May 11, 2011

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Thank You Charlie Sheen

How many people have both entertained and thoroughly disgusted us? Viewing the disintegration of a celebrity is somehow affirming and disturbing at the same time. The excessively public downfall of Charlie Sheen stirs many things in me from pity, to compassion, to wonder.

I have met clients from all walks of life. Many  had been blessed with great financial abundance have been taken to their knees, broke and bankrupt, yet somehow, they manage to roll with it.

In the news we see major companies relying on the government to prop them up yet they are allowed to continue their lavish excess. Why the double standard?

Charlie Sheen is all about a double standard. He is the epitome of excess and moral bankruptcy. He seems to be the embodiment of all that is wrong with business, government and society.

Did his wealth create his entitlement, or was he first filled with it? Certainly there are many who are blessed with great wealth that are confronted with addiction, it is rampant. The addiction comes not only to substances, it comes to shopping, status, sex, and gambling. Most of us have personal experience or have witnessed friends or a family member crumble under the weight of chronic addiction. The difference of course is our pain is handled in private. Private interventions from caring friends and family that reach-out in desperation to support the loved one from the darkness back to the light.

The public spectacle Charlie Sheen has made of himself seems to be just cause to judge him. We can look at him and decide many things about what is wrong with him and what he "should" do, after all, he's putting himself out there proclaiming "Winning". Yes, we can do that. We can stand among those who feel no power in the direction of their lives. To stand in judgment is always, to stand as a victim.

Double standards stir anger, they are unfair. The double standard we allow for those with money and power is that they are eccentric and therefore are above the law.

Wouldn't it be incredible if the "law" we all followed were not only those enforced by police agencies, but by the one great spiritual law, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."

If we were to view Charlie Sheen through the lens of "There but by the grace of God, go I", I believe that we might see that he is showing us a slice of ourselves that repulses us. We are quick to spot what is wrong in another and slow to acknowledge it within ourselves. This is pervasive from our "leaders" to the homeless person who scowls when we do not offer up our spare change.

Where do you stand? Is it possible that it is time,to take our own inventory? To bravely look at where we excuse ourselves from The Golden Rule, and with what justification?

As we witness the fall of a celebrity we affirm that excess and a life with no boundaries regularly lead to disaster. We have repeatedly allowed the "messiah" a pass, whether that "messiah" was an actor, wealthy businessman or politician. Why? Is it our lack of boundaries, or our lack or courage to stand up and say enough?

My "enough" came 17 years ago when all I could see in the mirror was someone looking for a reason that she was involved in substance abuse, looking for someone to blame. The desire to blame anyone but myself seared me, it was painful to wrestle with my conscience. Where had I gone? What had I fallen into? Hell. That's where I was, and I was not alone. I was married with 2 young children. Disgusted with myself and my own lack of boundaries and courage I began the climb up and out.

My downfall was small by public standards but it was horrific none the less. I was alone. No friends. My children and my mother were all who remained by my side, or so it felt. Alone was the appropriate place for me. In my solitude I allowed myself to review the multitude of opportunities I passed up to do the right thing. I looked in the mirror and over time found peace in my reflection. It was a painful and lonely process one which I vow to never repeat.

I had no groupies to tag along and make me feel important, I did not get a pass and I believe that was the greatest gift of all.

Let's not excuse or even partake in the entertainment of Charlie's downfall rather, let's pray that he may find the courage required to be there for his children. It is possible, it can happen. If we lose hope in one, we give up hope for all.

This historic time, where religious, political and social structures are being torn apart, is the opening for each of us to rebuild. If we rebuild on the fractured foundation of double standards and entitlement we are doomed to repeat history.

My prayer is that each of us choose to be honest with ourselves and rebuild on the sound foundation of the only rule that we truly need, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."

Monday, April 25, 2011


 I recently spoke to a grandmother in Florida.  She could have been yours, mine, any ones but she wasn't.  She was Sean and Jessie's grandma. 

A month ago, on Sean's 19th birthday, these two children were killed with 2 of their friends in an automobile accident.  No, there were no drugs or alcohol involved. This was a solo car accident with sketchy details leaving the family reeling with a million unanswerable questions.

Grandma is suffering indescribable grief as you might expect.  The pain of losing those so young, with their whole lives ahead of them spins out of control.  Their mother can hardly function.  It never makes sense.
If we are to have faith and believe that everything occurs in divine right order, then this was somehow a part of destiny. 

The parents and grandmother visit the site of the accident, hoping for what?  Is it wrong she asked?  Of course not.  Where else would you go to find the feeling of your child?  Hoping I'm sure to find some clue, some shred of evidence that would explain how the tragedy occurred.

The questions of why they didn't come right home?  Where were they going?  What happened?  The information that came through was distinct and repetitive.  I felt myself driving at night and suddenly something darted in front of me - a momentary distraction that caused me to jerk the steering wheel to the right - sharp and fast!  I feel myself tumbling, upside down, loud noise followed by extreme silence. 
There is a particular silence that accompanies death.  I always feel that it is a universal prayer, a prayer of silence for the soul that now travels home.

I relayed the information to Grandma....  My heart of hearts prays that the reading I deliver will be helpful.  I see that these were very good children, brilliant athletes, well rounded young people with bright futures.  Their mother endured invitro fertilization to conceive them - and now, in the blink of an eye - these bright futures will never come to be.   God please bless these spirits that have come home.  Please bless the grieving family members searching for answers, for peace.  I repeat these words until it feels complete.
Grandma listens.  "So you think he was distracted then?"  ... somehow, it made something make sense.  It doesn't make it right, but it feels better than nothing.

Won't you join me in including this family in your prayers?  Thank you for reading, and thank you for your prayers. 

Monday, April 18, 2011

Fired up!

We are bombarded by media messages that we must depend on and surrender our personal authority to people in perceived positions of power.  I for one am tired of hearing news agencies declaring my powerlessness!   Don't tell me I will go hungry when the prices of food and gas are skyrocketing.  I am resourceful.  I will thrive.  Who gains power when we feel oppressed?  What oppresses us? 
To me feeling that I have no choice is oppression, well guess what?  We have choice in everything we think and do.  Choose to light your own fire!  Don't wait for news to come in through your TV that empowers you and changes your life, it isn't going to happen. 
Tune into the news of your soul.  Listen to what your gut tells you...get angry, use that powerful energy to propel you forward!  Take action on your own behalf!  This is what we are here for.  Let's make some noise!  Boycott gas stations, buy local, join your city council, whatever floats your boat, get involved. 
Remember these words: "If we always do what we have always done, we will always get what we have always gotten." 
Collective, conscious motion forward. It's time.  Won't you join me?

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Blessings From A Beggar

I scrambled to dump the contents of my change purse into my hand and reached out the window of my car to place it into the grubby hand of the homeless man standing beside the freeway off ramp. His clothes and body were so tattered and worn he simply held a sign that said "Anything helps. God bless."
No reasons about why he was there, no story to grab my heart, just a simple message that is so true, anything helps.
I try to always make eye contact as a sign of respect in these encounters, respect that this is another human being experiencing their life in their own way. Upon meeting his gaze I was met with crystal clear blue eyes and a nearly toothless smile. He opened his rough and worn palm and accepted my small gift and surprised me when he squeezed my hand with both of his and said, "Thank you pretty lady, God bless you." He held my gaze for just long enough for me to understand that he was truly appreciative and I hoped that he knew I did not stand in judgment of him.

I felt so truly blessed, truly blessed by God.

Saturday, April 2, 2011

My Message to Valerie

Dear Valerie,
Today marks the anniversary of your passing. We never met yet I live with the results of your love. The love and courage you showed and taught in your fight to live and struggle to die lives on.
The events which followed your death brought an incredible man to his knees. He was swooped up by a vulture and devoured. She tortured his mind, heart and soul.
As the years passed, he sought the love you encouraged him to find believing each time it was possible. I know you know that he has found that love again. My desire is to erase all the ill deeds done to him and replace harsh memories with new ones of joy and laughter, companionship and forgiveness.
I send this message to you, through all things seen and unseen to thank you for being the person to first show him love, to believe in him, and to give him your blessings to be free to fall in love again. God Bless you Valerie.

Monday, March 28, 2011

Can I talk to you for a minute?

What if we took a second - that's all it will take - to remind the person next to you, or text to that they are loved beyond measure. Period. No qualifiers, no reasons, no guilt. Just an unsolicited reminder that simply by being there, by living and breathing, by being who their are - they are loved.

At 50 years old, I am blessed by someone who loves me in this way. The pressure to work hard, to be skinny, perfect, cheerful, strong, fragile, kind patient...that pressure is gone. Bye bye.

The energy previously spent on receiving qualified and quantified approval/love still spins and swirls! I have not mastered the talent to simply be and feel safe and secure in the love. I struggle to sit and allow myself to be served. I jump up and try to work really hard and really fast so that he will know how much I love him. Wait! What did I say?
That doesn't even make sense!

Why do I have to work hard and fast to prove my love? We know, it's because my value in the past was equal to the amount of work I produced. Mountains of laundry, miles of vacuuming, tons of food preparation...Sad when I see how little I thought of myself. No one forced me to do these things, there was no gun to my head. I held a misguided belief that without all of my efforts I was not going to be loved.

Trust me, this did not come from a difficult childhood. I was not mistreated or unloved, this is a part of the package I incarnated with. I came to learn that I am lovable simply by being, simply by existing.

I believe in miracles. I believe we all can have and receive and believe in this miracle of love. You are loved beyond measure, believe it.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

To Japan, with love.

Shadows of fear and sorrow fading giving way to the rays of sunshine flowing through my heart sending love to Japan. Remember to pray.

Friday, March 25, 2011

Sick or well, it's my choice

How are you? I am fine. No, really, I am fine. You may not know it by the multitude of tests I have endured at the hands of the medical professionals recently, but yes, I am fine.

The oddessy began last September with what I identified as a gall bladder attack. Doubled over in breathless pain - whew! Fifteen minutes later finally able to stand-up and left with a shadow of the pain. Huh...well I'll just wait and see.

A month later the pain persists so I see my doc. She tells me I must have indigestion - wow really? So my stomach is now located under the right lower side of my ribcage? That's odd, I wonder when it moved?

We started with an x-ray -negative. Ultrasound - negative...months go by, pain continues...take Prilosec, take Prilosec and Pepcid, no, no take 2 Prilosec's twice a day and skip the Pepcid, that was a dumb says new G.I. doc. Ok. I comply, and comply and comply with zero results.

Let's give you an endoscopy and get to the bottom of this, let's also give you a colonoscopy while where at it, you know since you're over 50 - fancy.
Oh wait! How about a CT scan just for kicks? CT-scan-negative oh but they did find an ovarian cyst! Jeeze...yes, I'm extra tired of being poked, giving blood and basically being examined so thoroughly!

Today I remembered...these folks are "practicing medicine". Practice, yes they practice because - hey - guess what? We are individuals! We all feel things differently! Wow what a concept! My pain and your pain are different! The issue does not lie in our perception of pain. The issue is-are we being heard? I lost count of how many times I relayed my symptoms and location of pain, where it originates and radiates to only to be told I have indigestion.

The wise thing for me to do now is stop. Stop this machine that does not listen, that is not interested in variables, that wants to move me through and stamp me "Healthy".

I decided today that Kaiser Permanente does not decide whether I am healthy or not, I do. Damn it...I do. So for today, and possibly for tomorrow, I will pretend that I have no symptoms. I am happy, I am healthy, and by God, I am going to finish this blog and spend the weekend happily in my very happy life.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Message from Roberto

The man I see is morbidly obese, dark complected. I see the name Roberto. He is telling me he was crushed by the weight of his own body. He suffered for years. He could not move on his own accord. Throughout the 7 years prior to his passing he learned of love, compassion and forgiveness - for himself. At the age of 35 he met a woman that came to care for him. I feel there was a language barrier so they could not speak, rather he could only feel her compassion and caring through the care she gave him. He loved her, she is the only woman he ever loved. I believe her name started with a J.

After 42 years of he chose to surrender. He removed the oxygen himself. He wants his mother Rita to know that he felt her hold his hand as he took his last breath. He felt ashamed of his shape and form his entire life. There was an organic problem that went undetected for nearly 30 years - it was too late for corrections to be made by the time it was discovered.

Roberto died in peace, he wants you to know that he did not suffer and he does not suffer now. I see a beautiful rainbow that those who love him should associate with his spirit.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Defining The Work

What exactly is this work that I do?

When I look at the websites of fellow psychics I wonder, do they wonder too? Do they wonder how it is that these words and feelings come through us to be delivered to you at the exact time you need to hear them?

I wonder if they wonder at the syncronicity that is in place to bring us together with you, our clients? The sheer miracle of divine timing that allowed our paths to cross?

These are things I wonder. What exactly happens when you sit in the chair before me, or pick up your phone when I call?

I hear your name, your date of birth and feelings well up, snippets of scenes cross through my consciousness, a scent, a pain, a voice, they come through me.

It is amazing when I ask you, "Who is it on the other side that had this constant shortness of breath, a woman the generation above you that was known for the apron she wore..." and you tell me, "Oh, that's my Grandma Betty." It is beautiful the way the spirit will paint a picture of the message rather than me saying "Grandma Betty is here". I love this process of discovery, I love it when you talk as much as I do!

So if you ever wondered, I wonder too. It is such a pleasure to be a part of your life path, tears, laughter, anger and joy. This is life.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

In The Name of God

If you wonder as I do, why must a horrific tragedy occur as the earthquake, subsequent tsunami and threat of nuclear melt down in Japan? The pathway in my mind is frought with fear and horror.

As the days have passed I have felt my heart begin to feel some light again, though it is guarded and cautious. The desire to close my eyes and reopen them to learn it was all a dream looms large. I want health and wellness, life and abundance for all of Gods children. Many today are without warmth, food, family and shelter.

It has taken days to come back to the place of my peace: my faith. Powerlessness is darkness. We may be physically powerless to make a difference to those suffering in Japan but we are not spiritually powerless. There is power in every thought, the power to express darkness and fear and the power to express light and faith. Let each thought resonate from the place of faith that God has not abandoned us.

Perhaps the timing is such that we are beginning or willing to recognize that the darkness that controls us is something we can transform and transmute. Within each of us is the seed of evolution and transformation. To remain captive to the darkness of fear is to say, "I have no faith." It is a choice, believe it or not, it is a choice.

Today I feel strong in my faith. I feel strong to make the choice to believe that my prayer and my love can extend my body, traverse time and space and bring light to those who are being tested beyond anything I can fathom. Won't you join me today in showing our faith by sending our prayers of healing and lightness of heart?

We do possess the power to reignite hope. Believe with me.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Liz & Chuck, A Love Story

Liz and Chuck, A Love Story

Liz came to me last week for a reading. She has been widowed for 9 months and while she has peace that Chuck is not suffering, she misses him dearly.

This is a familiar set of circumstances I’ve seen with many clients through the years. We process grief in our own way, in our own time. Grieving is a most intimate process.

Liz shared with me amazing and beautiful details of a love story that spanned over 30 years and did not end with Chucks passing last spring. Liz expressed concern over the many fights they had had and the words spoken in anger. She wondered, did Chuck carry anger or resentment with him when he passed? Does he still love me? Is he with me?

I closed my eyes to “feel” for Chuck and a clear picture came to mind of a white rose, a single white rose on a long stem. I asked Liz if that had any significance to her – none that she could think of. We talked on and I was stuck with the “picture” of that single white rose, I asked again, “Did you have white roses at his memorial? Do you have a white rose planted near your home? Did he ever give you white roses?”
Well, there was one bouquet at his memorial that had red and white carnations…but that just didn’t “feel” like what I was “feeling.”

It is not uncommon for the messages to need some time to resonate, or for us to work together to decipher what’s going on.

I “saw” then that she had changed something around in their home. She said the only thing she had changed was that she had hung some pictures. All at once here eyes got huge and she said, “The white flower is in the hole I made in the wall!” Apparently Chuck was very handy and had taught Liz a fair amount about how to take care of things. Liz had decided to hang a picture, got out his drill and made a hole that was too high. To cover the hole, she had taken a single long stemmed white flower and dropped it into the hole in the wall to conceal it! Voila! There are not words to accurately describe the relief I feel when the message has been delivered to the loved one.

Liz was tickled that Chuck was playing with her. She asked again, “Is he here now?”
With that I reported that he wanted to know, “Did you fix the plumbing?”
She gasped and stared in disbelief! Yes, she is currently having a plumbing issue!
How did he know she wondered? Well…as they (those who have passed) frequently say through me, only my body is gone, I am with you. Chuck remains attuned to her emotional well being.

I realize that hearing only the body is gone is a hard pill to swallow and does nothing to displace the sadness and emptiness of their passing, it is simply what is.

Our conversation flowed and she asked again, “Is he here now?” As if he were sitting next to me in the room I heard this: “Ask her if she’s checked her tires.” She knew immediately what he was referencing. A friend of his had sold one of Chucks’ guns for her. Liz planned to have the tires checked and if she needed new ones use the money earned from the sale of the gun to buy the new tires! By this time the sadness and heaviness Liz had been carrying since his passing had evaporated. Her eyes were bright and twinkled as we continued our session.

Liz described to me some beautiful conversations they shared prior to Chuck passing but expressed some sadness that they had not prearranged a “sign” so that she would know he was with her.

I told Liz that it is perfectly fine for her to decide what the sign could be and simply watch for the validations to appear. It was clear that she wanted more so I closed my eyes and waited for anything to come. It wasn’t long before I saw a pin or metal, like the type of pin you might get if you are part of a club. It felt as though it could belong to a motorcycle club…but that wasn’t exactly it. Liz described various pins Chuck had and it seemed that she might be content with recognizing motorcycle club pins as a sign from Chuck when suddenly she remembered that 2 days prior she had found a little pin that read, “I love Chuck”. We both knew, in that moment that he was saying, he loves her too.

It is incredible and humbling to be allowed to be the conduit to deliver these signs of enduring love. The blessings and tears shed by Liz were shared by me as well. We hugged as she left, her parting words to me were, “I’m happy Julie, it’s been a very long time since I felt happy. Thank you.” The funny thing is, I felt it was I who owed her thanks. Thank you, Liz for sharing this step on your path, and for your permission in publishing your story.

Post Script:
I called Liz today for permission to share details of her session on this blog and she was happy to share the following updates:

The white rose is her wedding ring! Chuck had the ring made as a friendship gift to Liz in 1976.

Upon returning home Liz opened the box which contains Chucks’ ashes, hanging from a black cord around the bag was a shiny round silver metal with the name of the mortuary on it. Literally saying, I am here.

It is not uncommon for “signs” to take on dual representations and meaning. The white flower in the wall made Liz and I laugh out loud that he would joke with us about her boo boo! The sentimental message of course lay in her wedding ring.

Bless you Liz, you are a delight to work with.