I was the mini-me of you

April 30, 2020

When you don’t respect my boundaries and manipulate my voice, you don’t respect my choices thus you don’t respect my identity.

You never let me become me because you were always wrapped up in you becoming you.

In the process, I was lost.

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Healing a Deer

April 21, 2020

Today I listened to Shamanic drums and the sound of waves and didn’t do a guided meditation. I was able to meditate for about 30 minutes but it didn’t feel like a complete isolated mediation. I will definitely try to envision this one again. I feel like I wasn’t strong enough yet to fully understand or act on what I thought I should be doing.

I started the meditation by following a path and quickly came to a set of stairs that went down to a beach. I’ve been here at this beach before. I know this beach and these stairs. It’s the same beach scene I’ve used to enter some of my other meditations. This time there was a campfire going down on the beach. I didn’t see a huge fire though. As I walked down the stairs, I could see and hear people at the fire, chanting and drumming. But when I got down to the fire, I was alone. There was no one with me.

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My Magnificent POWER ANIMALS

April 19, 2020

MEDITATION: Power Animal

In today’s meditation, I journeyed to the underworld to meet my animal spirit guide. At the beginning of the journey, I came across a few animals: rabbit, frog, lion, tiger, giraffe, elephant, caribou, deer. These animals came up to me but then ran off. They didn’t come back. As much as I tried to meet only one spirit guide, there were three animals (and a remote 4th) who came up to me and remained with me – a brown grizzly bear, 2 black duo colored snakes, and 2 crows. Not only wouldn’t they leave me, but they also touched me and allowed me to touch them.

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The girl who has no name

April 17, 2020


Today I saw a little girl who was a shadow of herself, wrinkly, alone, abandoned. She resembled a piece of charcoal with flakey sooted ashy paper-thin skin. She has been so neglected and not watered for most of her life that she is withered and dying. She wore thick heavy chains around her neck and feet, keeping her from moving forward. She couldn’t speak because her throat was so dry from not being used. We sat and cried together, mourning the loss of her gifts.

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Dead Bees

November 4, 2013

I’ve been doing a lot of reading on writing lately. A lot of reading – not writing. As I read, the one thing that keeps playing in my head over and over is to be a writer, you MUST WRITE and I don’t write enough. I’m a procrastinator. Whether it’s out of laziness or just plain fear, I don’t know. But it’s definitely there. My fear of writing and sounding stupid – even to myself. I started keeping a handwritten notebook with some general ideas, brainstorming, character thoughts, plot ideas for a book – a book that I’d want to read which definitely falls into the “commercial genre fiction” category and not the “literary work of fiction” category. I’m already stalling. Thinking that I don’t have enough plot ideas or material to start. Not really knowing WHERE to start or HOW to start. I don’t know where to start because simply put… I don’t write enough. I came across yet another writing blog this morning (I am becoming a writing blog addict) but this one was different. This one actually got me to… gasp…WRITE. Cathy Day is a college professor who is documenting her college writing class online through her writing … Read more

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