Better Angels

If you look carefully you'll see the last quarter moon in the upper left hand quadrant of the pic. I love this angel, part of the Columbus fountain in front of Union Station.

Two weeks have passed since Jake died and the truth is, I'm feeling better. So many of you, and so many of my 'real life' friends were kind enough to remind me that each day I would come back, little by little, to myself. It is happening. I've got a ways to go, but I'm feeling more whole every day. Thank God for the passage of time.

I also credit being love bombed by so many people as a big piece of the healing. If someone you know is suffering and you wish you could do more than express your sympathy, please know that those expressions of caring and empathy are genuinely, tangibly healing. No one can take away another person's pain, but when you generously offer a shoulder to cry on, or just say you wish you could change things, those simple acts make a big difference.

In addition to being love bombed, I've gone hard core with treatments. I believe treatments are post-modern, twenty first century soul retrievals. Though no one treatment is comprehensive (well ... maybe Chinese medicine is), all together they can bring back a serious chunk of soul. I've had acupuncture and therapeutic massage - of course. I've had a manicure and pedicure. Tomorrow I'm going for a haircut even though I don't really need one just yet. But I need a little bit of the sadness trimmed off. I need to lay my head back into the funny sink while someone else washes my hair. I need treatments!

The weather in DC this summer has been incredible - I'm talking low humidity and temperatures in the 80's instead of the usual scorching toxic steam bath. The glorious Colorado weather makes it possible for me to take epic walks all over the city I love so dearly. As I learned from reading The Secret Garden, fresh air is always necessary, especially to cure a broken heart.

My friends here and in 'real life,' the therapists administering the treatments, the steady ticking of the clock and even the weather gods have all conspired to help me recover. I am more grateful than words can express. All I can say is, wow.


Really cool looking, gauzy clouds gave the sky a nice texture yesterday.

Visions

I think this ancestor is saying something - or blowing smoke! Not sure which.

I "see" things. Anyone who has looked at the blog understands that. Yes I see auras and energy fields. I see alternate realities reflected from the hoods and doors of cars. When I look at satellite pictures of hurricanes, I see dragons, and yes, yes, I see the dead. OK sometimes I don't see them, but I know they are there.

Yesterday at work I "saw" a client's ancestors gathered all around her. She is about to have a baby; it seemed that they were gathering to support her through labor and delivery, and to welcome the new member of their extended family. At the end of the session she told me she felt better than she had in a long time. A gathering of loving ancestors will do that for you, it will. Five minutes after she left, while crossing the street, I saw the above. I "saw" it and I saw it.

It's always a good idea to have the camera close at hand because wow. By the time I had crossed the street - maybe ten seconds later - the clouds had radically changed shape so the face was no longer visible. It was just a glimpse, but still awesome.

As a psychic, part of my mission is to "see" the subtle realms. It's not often I get to share any of the amazing things I "see" with people who aren't particularly attuned, or interested, in alternate realities. Cool, isn't it?

LATE BREAKING NEWS: My client went into labor within a few hours of her session yesterday. The baby was born (two weeks "early") this morning around 5:00 a.m. Those ancestors got the ball rolling, definitely! Wow.


Me, times three. No Jake, though.

Heavy Metal

How sweet of this kid to throw his legs up in the air just as I was snapping this pic.

Sometimes I hear a song so compelling that I end up listening to it repeatedly, over and over again. After a few dozen listens, I know every note, every word even (and I'm not great with lyrics). I figure these songs are doing something for me; the vibrations are setting my energy in order, the melodies and ideas are reworking a segment of my neural network, or helping mend a long forgotten heartbreak. After awhile, I no longer "need" to hear the song, at which point I believe it has had its therapeutic effect.

Sometimes I get fixated on certain movies, particular foods, even art exhibits. My assumption is the same - that there's something about these minor obsessions that is helping me heal or perhaps getting me ready for a leap of personal evolution. I usually go with the flow of the repetitions, why not?

My art obsession du jour is The Art of Power: Together, some 75 works illustrate the use of luxurious armor in projecting an image of royal power in Imperial Spain. Strange, isn't it? I mean really, "luxurious armor" is definitely not my thing. What is luxurious armor anyway? If you want to know, go check out the show. The equestrian armor is truly gorgeous, while the children's armor is - well - just weird.

You don't have to hold a Ph.D. in psychology to understand why this show has caught my attention. As vulnerable and wide open as I am right now, certainly deep in my psyche I believe, at least for the moment, that sporting some fancy armor would protect me until I get my bearings again.

As for whether or not being shielded makes a person powerful ... hmmm ... not sure about that. But the show is fabulous.


National Gallery visitors, napping on the comfortable upholstery.

Prescriptions for a Lackluster Reya

Outside the Museum of the American Indian on the national mall.

I loved the book, The Secret Garden. I still love the idea that the essence of healing, for the little sickly boy in the story, was a simple, two step process: 1) spend time outdoors in the fresh air, and 2) revive a neglected garden. Eventually the combination of fresh air and gardening cures the sickly boy, the little girl who has been orphaned, and even the father. It is a potent healing. If you've never read the book, by all means check it out. It is a fabulous story.

According to the cosmology of Reya, part of why spending time outdoors is so healing is because we live inside cubes; four walls, a ceiling and a floor. That shape is very stabilizing and feels safe, but what most people need in order to heal (from anything) is to get into situations in which things can change. Disorganize the pathogens, that's the first step in healing. Energy, including illness, tends to hold its shape inside cubes. But anytime you get outside, energy can and will and does shift.

Once illness (of mind, heart, spirit or body) is disorganized, then there are a whole bunch of things you can do to get yourself back to health. Rest and good food are key components, but I also believe in cultivating emotional/mental states, such as gratitude and compassion. Having fun and laughing really helps, too, as does taking in beauty in the form of music, art, or the face of someone you love. The most complete healing includes forgiveness, a state of grace that I believe is divinely bestowed.

In my own journey of healing from the recent loss of my one and only dog, I've spent a lot of time outdoors. Walking with Tonka, the vigorous young household dog, has been fantastically healing. Yesterday I hung out with a friend who is smart, quirky and soulful, someone who loves to walk around and take pictures. That really helped, too. And I'm trying to be patient, to just let some more time pass, let this thing run its course. Patience is really hard for me.

I'm praying for the forgiveness part to kick in. I'd like to forgive myself for all the mistakes I made with Jake, to let go of everything I might have done better. It would even help if I could forgive myself for still being so sad about his death. I don't want him to be alive again, all old and frail, but this sadness is really kicking my usually cheerful ass. Hey God, could you throw me a bone here?

Wish me luck!


Botanical garden on the Capitol grounds.

Unwinding patterns

I'm no longer expecting to see Jake in the places where he hung out - in the bathroom where he hid from the world, next to the closet on the nice rug I had to throw away after he died, not in his overstuffed rocker, or next to the fan at the foot of the bed.

Funny, though, that I'm still looking for his reflection, not only in the mirror on the closet door but in car doors I pass as I'm walking around. I know he's gone, but obviously somewhere in my subconscious I believe that his reflection is still here, waiting to be digitally captured.

It's not, though. He left this world completely and took all his energy with him. He is free.

Have a wonderful weekend, y'all. Washington DC is stupendously beautiful, cool and dry this week. Wherever you are, live it up!

Now What?

At the end of any big interruption of the flow, the TV people say, And now we return to our regularly scheduled programming. That's TV, though - not "real" life. Life after Jake has not returned to its regular schedule. I have my room and roommates, I have my work, but all the rest of it is, in fact, more or less shapeless.

My spirit guides tell me that in another couple of weeks, I'm going to get creative; they tell me that I'll be doing most of everything differently than I have in many years. They are excited for me. As if to bring this point home very specifically, in my dream last night, my beloved Edward Norton was a cab driver. In the dream we are in a completely unrecognizable landscape. It's kind of like a lot of cities where I've lived, though also completely unfamiliar. Edward says, "Where can I take you?" I answer honestly, "Actually, I have no idea where I'm going." He says, "I'll wait here until you decide."

Sweet of him, isn't it? As with every role I've ever seen him play, he was completely convincing as a cab driver in my dream.

Last week my only plans were to breathe, cry, and drink water. This week I've structured my time very carefully in order to keep busy, but not overbusy. In this way I'm allowing some time to pass while I get my bearings in this new, post-Jake world I now live in. You'd better believe I'm looking forward to the promise of a burst of creativity. I'm not there yet, though, not yet.

Corporeal Intelligence

This image makes me think of that song "I'm a Little Teapot, Short and Stout."

When you cut your finger, your body responds immediately by sending clotting agents to the scene of the wound, and by beginning, instantly, to toss strings of collagen back and forth across the cut, the first steps in healing.

The mind is not so great during the first stages of wounding. Either it goes blank, a state we call shock, or it begins to create terrible stories, i.e. I might bleed out from this cut, or just the opposite, stories of denial, i.e. This is just a small cut, I don't need stitches. I'll just rinse it off and continue making dinner.

Later on in the healing process, the mind can do wonders, but initially, it's far less effective than the body itself.

During this past week, you, along with my family and friends in "real" life, have taken the role of corporeal intelligence by sending kind thoughts of condolence, sympathy cards, by telephoning, taking me out to dinner, listening, and checking up on me. I've been in a real spin. You have been the collagen and the clotting agents. I am so grateful!

Some of you said you wished you could do more than send love and compassion. Please know that your kindness has been literally and specifically and palpably helpful. It was exactly the first aid I needed but could not provide for myself. I will never be able to thank you enough. I mean that sincerely.

Yesterday I turned a corner. The shock is easing away, and life is coming back into focus. I noticed, for instance (for the the first time in a week), that the weather is unbelievably gorgeous - hot but not too hot, with lots of sunshine, puffy clouds and low humidity. I took one of the household dogs out for a walk last night. He is young and vigorous and was completely happy to walk with me. It felt so good!

Thank you SO MUCH for letting me lean on you this past week. Thank you. I'm going to be OK. Life will continue. Onwards & upwards. L'chaim!