Man of My Dreams

A piece of sacredness I rescued from the boxes in the attic were the journals from my 15th and 16th year.

These journals hold my stories of the right the before and during of my biggest trauma, my first abortion.

I found them a few years ago in truth but I was still in the dark and not yet at that part of my healing. I was not ready to hold this girl and her pain. Now my truth is, I have been holding her for sometime. I was so happy to welcome her home and hold her and ALL of her truth in love.

Do you want to know something about this girl’s stories? They are all about love. This girl writes exclusively about love. It makes the pain she experienced that much more devastating because it was such a disconnection from the one thing she was living for, love.

She writes about the moon and the stars and her love of the natural world. She writes about boys and searching for something More that none of them seem to possess. She writes about a future she can see so clearly; a future that includes all the love she is longing for.

Side step for a moment and come back to right now with me; two weeks ago my husband came home from playing table tennis and we stayed up for hours in bed talking about life and what we are building together. It felt like that deep connection that comes from late night talks at slumber parties where you allowed a small piece of your soul to be revealed in a way you had never previously allowed. Only here we were pulling everything open and revealing it all and making real plans for a BIG life together. It was all connection and Love.

Back to my 15 year old self and her writing;

One entry in her book of love writing talked about this Love she knows she is meant to experience. A love that is made of picnics and cool breezes and staying up all night talking and feeling understood.

I read that entry the day after our up all night talking.

I already knew my husband and I chose each other for a reason. This girl and her writing showed me something; he is not just the man of MY dreams, he is the man of my 15 year old self’s dreams, he is the man of my 5 year old self’s dreams.. This Love that he allows me to experience outside of myself in relationship with another human is exactly what the longing was for.

I have been calling him in my entire life. It has always been me and him. He is the soul who agreed to walk me home, and he has done just that, and we will continue to walk each other home every single day for the rest of this life until we are both Home.

This is my truth about healing, Love, and wholeness. It is so beautiful. It is so sacred.

Untethered Soul

I have begun my final rescue mission of myself from my trauma.

This last rescue is all about bringing home the mother, her babies – all of them. The babies who chose me, and all of my inner babies who have experienced the pain of my life.

I did not know it at the time but I started this rescue months ago when I cleared my closet. I donated/gifted away more roughly 3/4 of my wardrobe leaving me with just the essentials; and by essentials I mean, just the clothing that brings me joy. In the process of this clearing I took every single thing out of my closet and cleaned it, top to bottom.

Last weekend I returned to the attic and brought down all my boxes. All of the dust covered memories I have been tucking away in the darkest corners, with lids shut tight.

I opened every lid, emptied every box and found all of my abandoned parts in the heap. I separated myself from the mess and performed a cleaning ritual to cleanse my sacred bits and invite them home to belong to a whole again.

I brought down five boxes, my sacredness fits into one. When I took the lids off and find my special parts they were in poor shape. They had spent years crammed into small, dark dirty spaces, surrounded by junk and other people’s stuff.

You see the message here right? This is not just literal. This is what we do. We tuck away our pain and hurts into the furthest corners of our dark spaces and leave them there surrounded by garbage and other people’s crap that was never ours to be holding on to. Then we spend our lives weighted down by all of it.

It took me 35 years to go up into that darkness, face the truths I was afraid of that caused me to create these boxes in the first place, and rescue myself from all of it.

Now I in the process of tossing the trash, returning everything that is not mine to those whom it belongs to –  I am no longer willing to hold anyone but me- , and holding my truths sacred again. That includes my pain and darkness, it is ALL sacred.

Now my sacredness is held all together, in one transparent box. It has a lid, which sometimes I choose to take off in order to let myself breathe. On that lid words are written. Sacred words. Names. Truths. This is what is holding me now. This box is in my closet, in the space I created for it before I even knew that is what I was doing.

I have allowed myself to be guided by my intuition, my inner knowing, the wisdom I came to this life with, and brought me exactly where I am meant – home in my truths, in love, in connection.

This is what whole looks like for me. This is what healing looks like. This is the BIG LOVE. My capacity to LOVE has grown in a way I do not have human words for. I have a relationship with the dark now which means I will never again be consumed by it; my own or anyone else’s. This is freedom.

With my Hand on Your Heart

On a very human level, this week was hard.

Saturday my husband, who has been sick all of three times during our 7 year relationship, came down with the cold that little bubby and I have been sharing over the last few weeks. Sunday my cycle started. Monday little bubby began having sleep trouble.

Monday left me in tears, Tuesday left us stressed, Wednesday about killed us.

Wednesday night little bubby woke at 10:30 and did not finally return to sleep until 3:30 Thursday morning.

We were all able to make up some of that sleep during his morning nap on Thursday but the damage had been done and the day hurt.

Have you ever had that kind of day, where the day just hurts? Thinking hurts, moving hurts, interacting hurts, everything is just painful.

It was still before noon when I found myself standing in the middle of the living room, shaking two beach towels, tears rolling down my face, all because Lu was following me around the house as I readied us for our holiday plans when all I wanted was a LITTLE SPACE!

I stopped my shaking and went inward. I breathed through the emotional and energetic shaking as I held all of myself and allowed the hurt to settle. We are okay.

Settled, I walked into the kitchen where all of my loves sat around the table having lunch. I sat in my spot at the window seat and picked up the sandwich my husband had made for me.

He looked at me with his beautiful face, the one he shares with me when he can see my pain and is promising not to add on.

He said, We have to get through this together. We cannot melt down.

I added, At the same time.

He smiled.

He suggested we practice counting our gratitude together to offset the hurt. From my place of exhaustion I shared that I could not see it through the fog. We agreed to start in a simpler place, funny stories. Let’s retell funny stories until enough hurt has lifted to call in our gratitude.

We told the story of Lu getting pooped on by a bird. We told the story of little bubby farting across the living room as he crawled towards a toy. We told the story of Lu getting her ear covered in barbecue sauce.

We laughed and the fog of hurt began to lift. It was time to go. We loaded the car and nestled our babies in and headed out to be with family.

The rest of the day ran smooth. We ate, we played, we rested. We honored the space of where we were and chose rest over fireworks and drinking. We came home early, put little bubby to bed, and cuddled in bed reading until lights out. We were asleep before 9:00.

As a laid next to my husband in the dark, right before falling off the edge into sleep, I told him I was ready to count our gratitude. He went first;

I noticed you remembered to turn the air up before we left.
I am grateful for how gently our babies play together (little bubby was sitting with Lu earlier in the day handing her dog bones).
I am grateful little bubby is asleep and able to rest.
I am grateful for the support we allowed today.

Then I followed;

I am grateful to call you my partner. There is no one else I would choose to do this life with. When it is good, part of that is always you. When it is bad, part of my ability to navigate and survive it is always you.

I am grateful for these sweet souls who chose us (Lu and little bubby). We get to share our home and our love with such gentle little beings and I am so grateful and honored to have been chosen by them.

I am grateful for our ability to lean into support without falling into exploiting  the givers of that support.

I am grateful for this bed I get to share with you, and clean sheets to lay on, and comfort, and quiet, and rest.

I fell asleep with my hand on his chest, his heart beating beneath it.

Calling In

My husband and I are still in our clearing out process, we have not quite reached the other side. The functionality of our home is much improved and the extra space that has already been created is so welcome.

I think we can agree that we are feeling so much connected to ourselves, each other, and this life we are creating.

Now that we are making room for what comes next, what comes next is starting to come.

One of the biggest acts of clearing I have performed has been with relationships; specifically with my brother. I am going to be honest with you friends, I do not remember how much of this story I have shared so please excuse any redundancies.

Over a month ago, not long after returning home from Soul Camp, I unpaused my relationship with my brother and officially stepped out.

I hit pause on the relationship back in January with the mutual understanding that when we speak again it would be to discuss what our relationship will look like moving forward on the other side of my healing.

Once I got to the other side that question was easily answered. There is no relationship to go back to because I am not going back. I am going forward, without him, as our souls agreed to. I am keeping a promise our souls made in another time. A time his soul no longer remembers.

We spoke about this and from his human place he appeared confused, frustrated, and in denial.

One fact is clear; even if your soul does not remember these promises made, and even if you do not understand my soul speak, you DO know that you abused me. From a very human place I have no room at all for you acting as if you do not understand why my healing was needed or judging the ways in which I am doing it.

What I made clear is that I am not cancelling our relationship, I am just not going backwards to be with him. I am over here, in this new place that exists on the other side of healing. There is space for him here too, I see his place being held for him. This is where our relationship is, if and when he ever finds his way here, I am waiting for him with Love and open arms.


Now that I have finally set down my brother and all the pain that was never mine to hold there is SO much space in my life for new beginnings. Me creating this space energetically Calls In whom I am meant to be with in this next phase. The Universe responded without hesitation.

A very clear message came through about someone whom I do not actually know but rather know of, and how I am meant to have connection with her. So I listened and then I do that thing I do where I set down all my human fears and insecurities and allow myself to be guided by my intuition. I reached out to this woman via email, practiced soul speaking, and made her aware of this message that came through about this connection I believe we are meant to have.

If this our time I believe her soul will know and she will respond accordingly. Either way I have lost nothing and already experienced gain in the very act of once again trusting my inner knowing and allowing myself to be guided her.

I am grateful for the opportunity to practice allowing myself to be seen in this way. With each opportunity to take these kinds of risks the vulnerability of doing so lessens.

I am grateful for the clearing and the calling in.

I am grateful to be here, in my life, ALL IN, showing up.


Making Deals with Cockroaches

A few months ago while my husband was at work a cockroach skittered across the living room floor. I knew this just would not do. Little bubby is crawling now, I have been mindful about keeping our environment clean enough for little hands to experience it safely.

I followed Mr. Roach talking calmly to him, letting him know my intention was not to hurt him, just to contain him until my husband gets home at which time he will be released to nature. I placed a cup on top of him and we went about our day, making sure not to disturb his cup.

When my husband came home I made him aware of the captive under the cup and asked him to take him out back. He did, just not in the way I intended.

I was in the bathroom changing little bubby’s diaper when I heard the too familiar crunch that comes just before the life of an insect is ended. I was devastated.

Why did you do that?! You could have just slipped a piece of paper under him and released him! 

I told my husband how I had promised the cockroach he wouldn’t be hurt and that he had made a liar out of me.

My husband made the point that he was not present when promises were being made and that I did not have the right to speak for him. If I wanted him to remove the cockroach he got to decide how he wanted to do that.

I knew he was right. It did not make me feel better. I lamented all night about the psychological anguish I caused this poor bug during his last hours of life. Trapped all day long just to be smashed hours later. It still makes me emotionally sick to recall. I hate that I essentially tortured this animal.

Fast forward to last week.

On Tuesday I was loading little bubby into the car when I noticed a cockroach on his back in the garage near my foot.

Let’s be clear, I am afraid of cockroaches. Maybe not as afraid as some people are; I do not go running and screaming. They do creep me out though. AND I believe they have as much right to walk this earth as I do and I would never deliberately harm one.

So.. I see Mr. Roach on his back, legs kicking, near my foot. I am creeped out AND I know he is a living being who has a right to be here. I make a deal with him; I am not going to hurt you and I am not going to help you. You have to save yourself. Good luck little buddy.

The next day when little bubby and I ran an errand, there was Mr. Roach still on his back, legs kicking. Again, I am not going to hurt you and I am not going to help you. I hope you are able to figure this out. Good luck.

Then Thursday we were leaving for the Science Center. I am not going to hurt you and I am not going to help you. You have to figure this out.

I was amazed he was still alive. It had been multiple days of him on his back kicking. No food, no water. I mean I don’t know how all of that works for cockroaches but most living creatures need nourishment of some sort to sustain..

It got to the point that I was spending sometime thinking about him. I was starting to really root for him. C’mon dude, don’t give up, find that last ounce of strength and flip yourself over!

On Friday my husband was home. We went into the garage to leave for the grocery. My husband was loading little bubby into the car when I heard it, CRUNCH.

Noooooo! Why did you do that!?


Why did you kill the cockroach? He wasn’t hurting anything. We are outside, he has a right to be here.

He ran over my foot, he had to go. 


I was struck. I don’t blame my husband on this one, if an insect ran over my foot that might elicit a knee-jerk reaction in me as well out of fear. I was feeling so much at once; happy for the cockroach that he finally rolled himself over after working at it all week long, and then deep sorrow that all that effort was for nothing.

That day I learned 2 things;

  1. If I want a roach to be free I have to do the freeing because that is not my husband’s preferred method of removal.


2. I have to stop making deals with cockroaches.