Flowing with my UN-alienated daughter and 2 of my 4 grandkids…?!

Sometimes you just have to let things flow. Or get the hell out of the way of the Tsunami. After a mini emotional Tsunami in the Spring and with no apparent storm on the horizon, in a clear place and from high ground, I swear I see into eternity.

This summer began on Memorial Day in a surge of peacefulness and clarity and probably a bunch of my dumbfounding luck. My daughter brought 2 of my grand babies to see me, us, my life and family. As I often dream and as I know, it was so natural, so right, so void of the trappings of judgement or the noticing thereof. Like when something is just too good to stop and point out, for fear of jinxing it or popping it like a balloon. It feels natural like breathing, or even gasping for air. The heart(h) room I finally turned into my dream kitchen is pulsing like a heartbeat and full of living specks of the continuation of us all. My baby came home. My first daughter, my first true love, bearing her maternal gifts and with a whopping dose of hope for the future.

From left, Russell, my 15 year old, Shea my 13 year old, me and Juniper on my lap, with Magnolia on the right. In the Hearth Room turned into the kitchen I dreamed it should be, a kitchen full of family.
She came, my daughter Devan, she swung, she stared up at the trees with a profound look of contentment as I looked on in utter awe.

The sweetness of it all! Could, would the bitter taste of the past be laid to rest? My husband of 20 years talks nervously on, my teenagers’ eyes wide and questioning. Mama cry no more…?, Shea thinks. For the mostly hidden sadness is no longer feeling like a secret threat to her stable loving home. Russell stares proudly on, ready for anything but relieved to feel the authenticity and normality of it all. “It” affected us all differently and living without your half siblings almost all of your childhood seems alien. The old suitcase in the basement full of beautiful remnants of my brief time as teenage mother of Devan and her brother Cody seems no longer a deep, beckoning well of grief.

I feel hopeful and flowing and strong, praying to be blessed with more time and just plain sick of my sensitive, PTSD, prone to triggers old self. There is no deeper sadness than losing a child, yet eternity is looking like the most beautiful sunset after the most heart wrenching storm. And so I flow, so I go…

A Death in the Family and Mr. Bee

OK, so yes, we had a death in the family. Well, so to speak… Let me explain. Mr. Bee has been with us a year plus or minus. He is a carpenter bee and boroughs under the wooden steps on our patio. At first, I was freaked out by these massive creatures buzzing about, sometimes purposely running into our heads. Then I Googled them. Turns out they are harmless- ‘cept the female can sting if extremely provoked. Well, now this I get. These are my “people/insects.”

First of all, I have made peace with the fact that the generations have felt safe in my softwood stairs. My cats love chasing them around. This year there were at least 2. I know this sounds crazy but they literally fly up to my kitchen sink window and hover, much the drones that haunt me while watching the moon and trying to sleep over the ocean at our ocean place.

Our first summery day happened yesterday. 85 and sunny. Yet, the pollen is fallin’ like rain. So, before our family day by the pool today I cleaned out the skimmers. There was this enormous insect in there. I was totally freaked. No hair on the body at all, but long legs. Gross. I tried to analyze the oversized body, but my mortician skills are weak at best. Then it dawned on me. MR BEE! No, it couldn’t be. I know their lifespan is limited, but he had a happy home, I was hoping for some longevity. Strangest connection, the one I have with nature. Seriously, I go to my friend’s house to walk together and as I wait in her driveway- low and behold, two massive carpenter bees come by to hover right next to me. Looking at me. Hanging in the air like drones. Now, again, I know this sounds CRAY CRAY. But people, I recently read a boredom article about a chick who befriended at bee with a broken wing. The bee took to her, would climb on her, recognized her.

Listen, just pay attention to nature-and no, I am not on acid. 😉

Share with me a story about your experiences with nature like this!



Is there anything more authentic than the Earth?

via Daily Prompt: Authentic

In a recent “Way of Rachel” spontaneity I ordered a beautiful book written in part by Julian Lennon-“Heal The Earth.” I follow Julian on Facebook and the opportunity to purchase this book with his authentic autograph made me smile. He is the son of John and Yoko Lennon and a wonderful artist and activist, etc in his own right. The book is beautiful. It is the second of a trilogy. Julian takes the reader on a journey with the magic White Feather as your guide, a healing adventure for our one and only Earth. Three taps of the feather and it turns into the White Feather Flyer, your transportation around the planet to heal Earth and its people.

Julian’s White Feather Foundation, http://www.whitefeatherfoundation.com, does remarkable work all over the world. His father, John Lennon, told him to look for a white feather after he passed, as a way for him to connect and reassure Julian that we are all going to be ok. Julian was given a white feather by the elders of the Australian Mirning tribe, asking him for help. And so the foundation was named and formed. Clean water, education and health and the protection of our environment and indigenous cultures-the betterment of all life is the purpose. A hefty job, but who better to spearhead it, take it on than Julian Lennon?

So I have his authenticated autograph, his authentic book and an overwhelmingly authentic feeling that we must all do much much more to help our authentic Earth be as astounding and healthy as possible.


Nothing New Here and other Earth Day Miracles

Today I have a choice. I can sit “still” and be in the moment. I can observe. Or, I can frenetically figure out what is the best use of my time right now and forever. This creates anxiety. So, let’s say I choose to listen, watch, and feel. This when miracles happen. Have you noticed this?

Americans are a materialistically driven culture. We must produce. We must show what we are worth to ourselves and to everyone around us through what we possess, how well we can provide. In the process, and this is not genius observation or anything new, we often miss the whole thing! You would think that humans would have spiritually evolved. Or at least figured out how to balance it all so that every miracle gets the chance to show itself. Consequently, if practiced, our direction shifts, even if for just that one moment. The light goes on, the self-judgement stops. What a state to be in! Medicine for our hearts.

Now, it isn’t practical to always be in a state of “enlightenment.” That is for Buddha. Or is it? Our American culture does not reward enlightenment. Yet it is the “richest” state to be in! If we let ourselves “see” yet keep our feet on the ground, well, that, again is when miracles happen. The universe reveals itself.

Try it. Let me know what you see! We are all a part of the miracle that is Earth. Earth Day is Sunday. Every day should be Earth Day!!!!! Stop, look and notice her! Can’t wait to hear what you see and feel and how it pertains to your path. Open up the instinct, the connection and watch the miracles unfold.

Comment pls! It motivates me to keep writing!


PS-I had one of those “catch your breath” moments when I looked at the New Moon through fantastic binoculars yesterday. Here is the picture.





Luminosity here, FREE.

Lately the song “Amber is the Color of Your Energy” has been running through my mind. When this word prompt challenge popped up today, I heard it again. Have you ever had someone tell you they can see your energy? Or better yet, can you see other peoples’ energy color/hue? The spiritual community often refers to it as your “aura.” And to the gifted, or practiced ones, your colored energy surrounds you. I have an innate ability to measure the LUMINOSITY of human beings. It is a glow, a dark one or a light one or even, sadly, no light at all. A brilliant, luminescent glow around someone attracts me like a moth to a flame.

Have you ever been told that your light is bright, that you glow? I am eternally grateful to say that my whole life I have been called a source of LUMEN, or light.

Often there is no luminescent light of any color to be found in someone. Perhaps they have been “spirit robbed” and a darker force has taken up residence. The person’s past can explain this-trauma left a hole for the darkness to set in and foster. Those people, in my mind, all but scream at me, sometimes they have a distinct odor. I have to physically move away as quickly as possible, to avoid what I call the “energy vortex.”

And then there are the ones who are just beaten down, their energy diffused by hardship, illness and lack of luck. These people attract me as equally as the LUMINESCENT ones. “Luminescents” bathe in each other, recharge each other. I have often been told that I shine brightly. I feel that this is a divine responsibility, that the gift of luminosity must be shared, and especially with those whose light has dimmed, with those looking for a boost, a warm place to be. Again, like a moth to a flame, I charge in, wrapping myself around the wounded, sad, and depleted, stoking the flame to light the fire of hope.

COMMENT BELOW and share if you can read people’s aura.
Do you see it in technicolor or simply intuitively see a brightness level, like me?
How do you handle dark energy?

And finally, If you have it to give, share your LUMINESCENCE!

If you could use some, FIND US, the LIGHT GIVERS, we love to share!

The Way of Rachel

via Daily Prompt: Luminescent

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/luminescent/”>Luminescent</a>

Worth reading! Second responder at the scene of an accident and the healing power of the human hug…

Wait a minute, a collision just happened…

As soon as this thought went through my mind I remembered my own experience with the expression of a new neighbor’s concern as I sat in shock and tended to my children at the scene of a fender bender, a very important moment in my life, but more on that later… I pulled over.

The Mini Cooper was down a small embankment, nose cradled by the old wood fence. A woman was huddled over the wheel-leaning right as though she was looking for something. I did not see any blood, I reached out and put my hand on her shoulder. She turned and her panicky eyes found mine. She was crying and saying that she was trying to sort her mother’s estate. She says she is ok physically, as far as she knew. I put my arms around her and she cried on my shoulder for what seemed like eternity. A Spanish speaking man was there, calling for help on his cell. He looked frantic. I later referred to him as Angel Flores. She referred later to him as my husband, for some strange reason.

After our long hug, she turned to me and looking directly into my eyes with the unforgettable look of deep, deep sadness said, “I was trying not to kill the big rabbit!” Then came the most heartbreaking words of all…”My whole life, I’ve never been able to do anything right.”

For some reason I felt inspired to say, “No, no, this is not the end…maybe this is your beginning?” I then noticed the unmistakable scent of alcohol, the kind that has been around a while, permeated the skin. I asked her if she had been drinking. She did not reply. I thought at that moment that I needed to get her into my car to calm her down, to wait for the police. I had the strong feeling that she was was searching in the car, or even through it the car, for a way to end it all. I hugged her again and again as she told me about her father dying when she was 10, her husband, now her mom, etc. I asked if she needed to be driven somewhere, to the hospital. And she said, “I have been trying to get into the hospital for the last two weeks.”

The ever-so-cold police arrived and came up to my Jeep. She seemed to be in and out of shock and coherence. She spread Carmex on her lips in front of the policeman and the whiteness of it looked absurd around her mouth. I tried to wipe it, realizing at that moment that she needed much more help than I could give.

I told her I was going to release her to the police, as she seemed to be more steady, the fog lifting. She was looking for her dog that ran away from the accident when I told the police I was going to leave her with them. The policemen looked me up and down and then said heartlessly, “We are only concerned with her-where is she?????” They couldn’t see her behind my Jeep with the Spanish speaking man. I shrugged and said “I was just trying to help.” They said, “We know”-emotionless, not a speck of humanity in their impervious eyes.

I turned to her, she was behind me now, and hugged her one last time. She seemed to have surrendered to her demons, the process. There was a lighter air about her. I dearly hope she has found a supportive place to get the help she needs to start over, to begin to live fully in her authentic self, to regain her personal power.

I felt so drained, I felt her pain, her solitude. It resonated with me all night.

Why is our world, the establishment, so unwelcoming for the sad and lonely? The forgotten, the imperfect? I pray for all of those on Earth who feel like this, lost, unloved. Please look around you day in and day out for signs of human distress. Offer a random hug. Hold the hug longer than you think is socially acceptable. I felt in those moments that I absorbed her energy and she absorbed some of mine. I have always had an immeasurable amount of positivity and warmth to share.

Comment below, please, I am fairly new to this blogging thing-am not quite sure what I am doing, but excited that for the first time in a very long time, my creativity and openness if flowing.

I would love to hear your thoughts about the healing power of human touch or anything else pertaining to mental health and our culture!

The Way of The Rachel

I was introduced the other night like this: “This is Rachel, she shares her time between two places.” She was referring to two different geographical areas. I have never been introduced like that before, and it resonated with me. Made me think about how blessed I am, and how vital it is that we have more than one “place.” Literally or figuratively, travel is essential for our souls. Shamans are vehicles, vessels. They journey to places many of us don’t believe in, or even fear, to gather answers from the great spirits. They travel to the worlds beyond the physical. It is ancient and ceremonial and has healed ages of people seeking physical or emotional answers. We all have gifts in our souls. Often we are puzzled as to what to do with these gifts. Maybe you are a teacher. Maybe you heal as a conventional doctor. Perhaps you heal as a naturopath. Maybe you research or adventure. I was once told by a gifted woman that I was a Shaman Healer in another life. This makes perfect sense to me, as a child I remember standing on the stairwell crying and beating my chest, “I CAN”T HELP IT, I AM SENSITIVE!” This sensitivity has permeated every light and dark corner of my life. As a result, I drain easily. I feel so much empathy that extra sleep is essential to my well being. Like many of us, the ocean beckons me. The white noise of the waves quiets my thoughts. I sleep to white noise no matter where I am. The ocean reminds me how we are all tiny cells of a larger miracle, our Earth. I feel like the Earth needs healing now more than ever. Spring is trying to spring. Once it does, take notice of her, of the magic she gives, and also note her struggles. I guess my message today is try to “live” in many places, spread positive energy and notice the magic, no matter where you are.
For more on discovering your unique soul gift, read this!