I had never witnessed the taking of a life before. A privilege, I know, in today’s world. I heard the machines before I saw them…and was drawn outside by my son, who at first only saw the monstrous vehicles as characters in his children’s books. 

We walked out to the end of the driveway, staying a safe distance back…and Flynn’s notion of what these machines were “supposed to” be for immediately left his head. He gripped my hand tight and watched with concern, as the machines continued to hack at it’s victim’s limbs. As they fell to the ground, we watched men robotically pick them up and throw them into a shredder, with no regard for the perfectly healthy, beautiful resiliency that they still had left within them… that life breath turned to dust within an instant. 

My little boy looked up at me and asked, “Mama?” that one word holding so many questions in his little mind. He wanted to know why. Why were they killing this life force, tearing it apart piece by piece. 

My answer to him was a silent kiss…a meaningless reassurance.  How could I explain to this untainted soul that these men were taking this life because they believed it was too close to our comfort and connectivity. They believed it was better for it to die, then to let the possibility of it someday “interrupting” or inconveniencing our lives.

Flynn still clutches my hand, but his other hand is now clutching his stomach…his little body unable to understand what is happening. I could feel his concern and discomfort flooding up my arm where our hands were connected. 

This life had lived in this place for close to 100 years. It remained a steadfast fixture as the world and people changed around it. How many generations had it watched come and go? How many families looked upon it daily? How many animals had it sheltered or fed with it’s abundance? 

And now all the limbs were shorn off, it’s body naked and exposed where it’s life force once spread tall and wide. 

I was at an execution that no one could stop- I could only look on in sadness and remorse…. guilt seeping in like I was a part of the destruction. 

I couldn’t watch the men finish. I didn’t want to see emptiness where a strong, long, life once stood. 

We went back into the house, and I distracted Flynn with a game of catch, but my mind was still outside…. and in detainment centers….and in jails…and on boats…and behind walls…and in every other place in the world where humans kill and destroy for the POSSIBILITY that the lives they are taking may threaten or inconvenience them at some point. 

I watched a tree die today. 

I watched because it was right outside my front door. As I write this from the safety of my home, I now realize that I have watched humanity die every day on the news, and social media, etc. Why has it been so much easier to walk away from it, or turn a blind eye and pretend it isn’t happening? NO MORE. 

Great Mother, please give me the strength to NOT look away, change the channel, or go inside. Give me the courage to stay…. and to intervene. 

Blessed Be. 

She sits by the fire with her eyes closed, lost in contemplation…allowing the strands of life to ebb and flow around her freely.

These chords, memories, and connections fly around her beneath closed eyelids, where only she can see them. There…the thick translucent blue of the umbilical chord where her life started. Where she was destined for a path of the unknown and of inner strength.

A slim but mighty silver thread flashes by and grabs hold….her chosen family, not of blood, but of love. The silver thread forever embroidering her life force with another’s- her sister, and soul friend. More strands come into view now… the emerald green of true love, the joyous blue of motherhood, all beginning to intertwine into beautiful patterns and textures.

This woman is the keeper of many chords….not just her own. She holds the red thread of life in her hands and has stitched countless people back together through her service in medicine. That red thread has given life back to those in need…she is a healer.

With her eyes closed she can see a thickly braided chord of moss green and vivid purple… soul mates who were brought together because of her tapestry. Stitch by stitch, her threads have impacted the world. She has created literal beauty in her knitting and quilts, but the real magic of her life is in the power to create NEW threads, and know when to let go of the ones that have frayed. A tear rolls down her cheek and she sees it for the first time….a spool of Golden thread…just for her.

This thread is not often seen… it only exists in certain people… those who have walked through darkness and have come out on the other side to create anew. She breathes deeply, threads her needle and opens her eyes to begin. After all…. she is a WEAVER.

All of my life, I have struggled to accept my personal appearance. I have never thought that I was skinny enough, or my skin was clear enough, or that my stomach was flat enough etc.

How many times have you looked at pictures of yourself from 10+ years ago and think, “WHY DID I THINK I WASN’T (insert positive adjective here) THEN?! Why did I waste so much of my time and energy picking apart my body??” It seems that only upon reflection MANY years later, that I can see what others had perhaps seen back then.

And therein lies the problem. I am still judging and comparing my body to other women- my 10 years younger self included.

I have always looked at my body from the outside in… appearance first, and health concerns second. This way of thinking had to change when I got sober. I knew that I had to pay attention to what my body was telling me, or I was going to die. Thankfully, (after ignoring that niggle in my chest for far too long) I listened to my inner voice and started a journey towards sobriety. As I type this though… I’m realizing that even then- I may have been paying more attention to what my mind was telling me, instead of truly taking cues from my physical body. Being an alcoholic, I had lots of practice regarding detachment- getting so skilled at it, that in the end I didn’t even realize I was doing it. I lived in a dark world inside my head, and my job each day was to drown out and numb that darkness as quickly and for as long as possible.

Once I had some sobriety under my belt, I understood that I had completely neglected myself, so I started down the long path of reintroducing myself to my physical body. Years passed, and I became an open channel. I felt called to be a conduit to heal others, and worked to receive my Reiki Masters Certification. I was regularly assessing, healing, and focusing on other people’s physical forms, while STILL completely ignoring mine. Was I sober? YES. Was I able to ease people’s emotional/physical pain? YES. Was I using my own hands to do this? YES! But STILL, I ignored my own vessel…. Until.

Until my husband and I decided we were ready to add to our family. In order to have Flynn, I had to go thru fertility procedures and blood tests etc. in rapid fire succession. Very quickly, I was forced to pay attention to my body, and had to make the health of it my top priority.

When I got pregnant, something that I can literally only describe as magical happened. I LOVED how I looked pregnant. I can remember staring at myself in the mirror with a huge bump thinking, THIS is what your body was made for. THIS is your true form. I truly felt divinely held while pregnant, and will always cherish that feeling.

As with all life lessons- this one includes a good dose of irony. Here I was, REALLY loving my body on the outside, but in horrendous pain and discomfort on the inside. Because of Hypertension and Preeclampsia, my pregnancy was definitely not the smooth sail that I expected it to be.

But looking back at that time now, I am so grateful to my body for being strong enough to hold me up and safely carry Flynn for nine months. I am proud of what I was able to endure for a week in the hospital before Flynn came into the world.

And then our new life took over, and everything was about Flynn, as it should have been. I experienced the two weekish postpartum glow, lost most of my pregnancy weight, and jumped back into my busy life.

And then when Flynn was about 5 months old, every woman’s good friend GRAVITY came to call. Everything, and I mean everything… dropped. I felt so alienated and lost in my body. And so… I ignored it. I focused all of my energy on Flynn, my husband, and even on my face and hair. I shut out everything from the neck down.

And so I sit here… contemplating all of this, and trying to release the pressure I have put on myself to “fix” it.

I am writing this post to hold space for myself, and for any other mother, (or otherwise for that matter) who feels disconnected from herself. I am sharing this as a permanent reminder of the hardships I have put my body through, and more importantly, the gifts it has given me.

While speaking with a very wise woman, I told her that I felt like I completely lost my body. She took in my pain and said…. “No you didn’t. You can never lose your body. It is sitting right there with you now. It is supporting you right now. All you have to do is be open to receiving it.”

I am FAR from being physically comfortable in my postpartum body, but I have started to have gratitude for the work it has done for 33 years. I will learn how to lovingly make healthy changes so that hopefully soon, I will like what I see in mirror. In the meantime, I will thank my body each night for carrying me through the day…just as it is.

Now that we have crossed the threshold into 2019, and my intentions are set, I have been circling around this idea quite often. Actually, as I am writing this, I’m realizing that the truth is that this label has been circling ME, and popping up everywhere in my life.

My main intention for 2019 is to live in my truth. Using the word “intention” instead of “resolution” is a purposeful choice for me, and it has already changed how I go about my daily life. For me, resolutions equal pressure, and result in success or failure. If you’ve stayed with me this far, you can probably guess how successful I was at keeping resolutions in the past. (Cough, NEVER, cough, cough!)

To set an intention, is to slow down, go within, and honor what you find there. Sit with yourself and really dive deep to recognize where you are right now. And then…WITHOUT JUDGMENT, you start from there.

Part of living in my truth is accepting that where I am today is enough. Who I am today is enough, and the only person who gets to define that is ME. This has always been an ongoing challenge for me, which is exactly the point of my intention this year.

So, speaking of me…I am a Lightworker, and that identity is a huge part of my truth. Instead of searching the internet for quotes or definitions that resonate with who I am, I felt compelled to share my own definition of what it is to be a Lightworker, and humbly intend to live up to it.

For me, being a Lightworker is not all sunshine and roses, (although I know that may seem a tad contradictory as I write this with a mane of bright pink hair on my head). In fact, it is quite the opposite.

In order to see/feel/experience/channel/reflect divine light, you must first walk through the dark. In keeping with my truth, I MAY have a flair for the dramatic…..so I didn’t just walk through the dark- I lived there. For a while. I know it’s names, and many faces, and how easy it is to feel overwhelmed, and terrified of the unknown- to feel stuck in the muck of your own bleakness. Because of this, I became very familiar with this place. I stayed there so long that I started to realize that I NEEDED to live there to learn the lessons that were sent, in order to be able to access the light, and help others seek it out. And so, I ACCEPTED the dark.

Because of everything I have gone through in my life, (the specifics of which would need another post entirely), I don’t take light or love for granted anymore. Calling myself a Lightworker is a badge of honor. To me, it represents the fact that I battled my demons and came out on the other side. It also means that I can sit with the dark now, because I know the pathway home. It is lit up with ritual, prayer, humility, intuition, grace, spiritual community, and honesty.

To live between the light

and the dark is to embrace the gift of constant change and growth, and to not shy away or run from hard things. If we cannot receive these things- we cannot heal.

I strive to live as a Healer, because I am not afraid to bare my scars in order to show others that they too can find their light in the world. It’s not “me” doing the healing, I just show up with all that I have walked through, and am willing to share it. In that way, a Healer to me, is just a guide. Everyone has the ability to heal themselves.

I choose to live in a way that radiates hope, light, and love. Some may say or see that as just fluff…but I see it as choosing to honor the dark, so that I can step fully into the light. If I did not respect the dark, I wouldn’t be able to access the level of light that I have experienced.

Living in my truth this year means that I will be just as open about the difficulties of life as I am with the beauty of it….and OWN all of it, as uncomfortable as that may be. I keep reminding myself that if I am uncomfortable, it’s because I am experiencing something new, or outside the realm of my everyday life. And there’s a bit of magic in that, I think.

A candle is just wax and wick until you give it a spark….and once lit, it becomes an endless source of light and warmth if it is tended to, and passed on… a Lightworker is that original candle, now awakened by the spark of life, and is just waiting to tip his or her flame to light up any candle in need.

XO,

Stacie

I was impatient. I pushed. I WILLED my objective into being. I essentially was “the magician” pulling flowers out of thin air. Were the flowers impressive? Maybe at first glance and from far away….but they were NOT extraordinary up close. They were made of cheap plastic, wrinkled, and dirty from years of being shoved up my sleeves and pulled out again, over and over.

Manifesting, to me, means trust and action – NOT HOPE. I had trust, and I thought I had action, but what I was actually doing was forcing my path, or my flowers to grow. I hadn’t planted a seed.

I DID NOT PLANT THE SEED. I have been walking around for months with my head in the clouds, feeling utterly untethered and completely ungrounded. And I was flabbergasted by this! I thought, “I am finally doing what I am meant to do- why do I feel like I can’t get my footing?”

The answer lies in today’s New Moon and the advice of my very wise mentor. I needed to plant a seed inside myself. NOT in my head, but in my womb- where it will have time, proper care, and nourishment to grow. And I know what you are thinking…”Didn’t she literally just have a baby?! She should be all about nourishment and creating new life, and embracing her womb.” Believe me…. the irony is not lost on me.

My pregnancy and birth experience was so challenging that my mind subconsciously turned a key and locked away the knowledge that is needed in order to bring something sacred into fruition. I closed the door on MY body, and focused on my son’s. And so, for the past year, I have been walking around using only my head and sheer force of will to get things done. I was still using my Intuition, but in keeping with our flower analogy, it was SEVERELY dehydrated. ( I’ve never had a green thumb…Ha.). To put it bluntly, my womb feels dead. Empty. Used up. I have completely neglected this part of my body…. after it created, held, and delivered the most precious thing in my life. And I have almost let it die. My womb. My sacral energy. How often do we unknowingly do this to ourselves? Disconnecting from a crucial life force somewhere within us? Too often. So this is where the Light Work begins….

On this New Moon, I plant a seed of intention in my womb. A tiny, yet mighty notion of my dreams to come. I will water it with tears of enlightenment, and nourish it with the promise of keeping the soil that surrounds it, rich and fertile…and ALIVE.

I will abide by the seasons, and allow time for this seedling to shift, grow, and flourish. The harvest cannot be reaped unless the seeds have first been sown.

Blessed Be.

Perhaps it is the upcoming Pisces moon that is calling to me like a siren song, from her Indigo depths…. but my heart, head, and intuition have been entrenched in the concept of Sanctuary lately. I am overcome with the need to travel within.

What is Sanctuary?

If you had asked me this question as a girl, I would have responded with some version of the church scene in Disney’s “The Hunchback of Notre Dame”. Most likely singing it, mind you, and as dramatically as possible. As an adolescent, I thought I knew what a Sanctuary was supposed to be, but had no idea what one felt like.

It would be MANY MANY years before I even had the slightest notion that I could find Sanctuary, let alone honor it.

While tumbling around in my 20’s, (they were NOT graceful, much to my dismay) I looked for Sanctuary, (which at the time was in fact validation of my worthy ness in life) in the outside world… in excitement, in achievement, and most especially in other people. I had to learn over and over and OVER, that we can never truly find solace or happiness until we are at peace within ourselves.

A few years ago at the beginning of my spiritual and sober journey, I came across the Celtic word for Sanctuary:

At the time, it felt like that word was born just for me… it was the protection and love I needed, and most importantly, that the power could come from inside MYSELF. It seemed so simple, and yet it has been and continues to be one of the hardest lessons I have learned.

As the years have gone on, I have studied and done my fair share of soul searching- and I can tell you beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the center of my Sanctuary is my heart space.

I have a beautiful altar in my bedroom that is Home to my most Sacred possessions, and is also where I go to light candles of intention and pray. But it is not my Sanctuary.

Close your eyes for a moment…. lay your hands over your heart and picture it inside you….what do you see? What do you feel?

There is power there, and a weaving of roots that go back thousands of years to our Ancestors. When I close my eyes and place my hands on my heart, I see a pink rose nestled in my chest, with its petals unfurled, but not yet completely open. In the center of that Rose lies a large shining Quartz crystal point that sparkles with light. Golden rays like veins and roots travel from this crystal, throughout my body, down into the Earth, and out through my Crown Chakra into the sky.

I carry my Sanctuary with me, because my Soul is my Sanctuary.

In today’s world, it is so important to be able to go within, and find connection and comfort. We have all been programmed to search for that elusive “missing something” that will finally make us feel whole once it is within our grasp.

It already is. It is right inside me, and right inside you. Honor your body, your heart, your mind, and your soul. YOU are your Sanctuary. You were born with it.

Step inward, breathe… and feel the light within you flicker and ignite.

I needed to write this tonight as a reminder to myself to keep traveling deeper… if you are reading this, I hope that it may be a sign for you as well.

I have been trying to write for days about the leap of faith I have taken. Words and thoughts keep circling in my head, but will not land in a place that I can pull a thread of wisdom from.

Enter Mama Medicine. I have been following this wise woman via her newsletters and social media for a while now, and I am always able to take something away from her teachings.

Her latest newsletter, (you can find her here http://www.mamamedicine.nyc/ )

Spoke about the time of Mercury in Retrograde being the Chrysalis Phase.

We start out in life as a Caterpillar, and could go on living in simplicity as said Caterpillar- knowing that change will rarely occur, and growth is not something that even exists. OR we can go into Chrysalis- we can enter the unknown and begin the stages of transformation and evolution that will forever alter the course of our lives.

So, this leap of faith….. with the full support of my incredible husband, I made the decision to leave my full time job in the Insurance Industry, so that I am able to focus on growing my Reiki Healing and Intuitive Tarot Business. The other HUGE factor in making this decision was that in leaving, I would be able to spend much more time with my son Flynn- something he and I desperately needed.

Even though leaving my co-workers, many of whom had become good friends over the years was difficult, I knew with every bone in my body that I was making the right decision. I was able to leave with grace and positivity, and of my own power. I am very grateful to have a wonderful relationship with my former managers, and a sturdy bridge still stands there.

What I did not expect AT ALL, was this period of transition after the act of leaving. I naively thought that the action of leaving would magically transform me into the majestic butterfly I longed to be. (Please note my sarcasm here, although some of you may know me enough to take it at face value.)

I now know that I have entered into Chrysalis, and have only just begun. Being home with Flynn and navigating through promoting my business has been extremely challenging. But after reading Mama Medicine’s writing- I am not afraid of the unknown. I understand that this time is a gift- one of rest, resilience, and creation.

I know that one day, I will emerge from the Chrysalis into The Butterfly. But I am no longer solely focused on this end result. Living a sober life, and becoming a mother have taught me that we must live for the present, because we have no way of knowing what the next day will bring.

I will embrace this period of transition and transformation, and honor the work that is necessary to weave my wings. And once those wings are strong enough, and stable enough, only then, will I think of spreading them open…. TO FLY.

I came across a picture of my twin sister and I the other day (via Facebook’s Memories Feature), and it kept circling my mind…in an uncomfortable way. I didn’t know why, but took it as a sign, and saved it on my phone. After sitting with it for a while, I realized that it reminded me of a similar picture that Kath and I had recently taken at the lake.

I stitched the pictures together so that they were side by side, and it became obvious to me why the older picture elicited such a vexatious reaction in me.

This picture was taken 10 years ago. On the surface, we look young, happy, and “normal”. On the inside, we were both lost, aimless, and at the crossroads of alcohol abuse and alcoholism. It is not lost on me that we are both smiling with teeth in this picture. For someone on the outside looking in, it may seem like we are having a great time, and grinning. To me, I can see the forced mask that is plastered on both of our faces. We were both going down different roads, albeit equally destructive ones.  We are clinging tightly to each other, because it is easier to have a partner in chaos. We were each other’s mirror in not only appearance, but in ruination as well.

10 years have come and gone, and with it, change has occurred. We have gone through the physical death of our beloved older sister, and the metaphorical death of relationships, and former selves. Like the ever evolving wheel of the seasons, we have also experienced new life in the physical birth of my son Flynn, and more importantly, we have gone through a parabolic rebirth ourselves.

As I type this, I realize that I have been using “we” in describing everything above. I think it’s essential to recognize that in our addiction, we were very much a “we”.

In our journey to sobriety and serenity, we separated into two entities rather than one. Kath went first, and I reluctantly but imminently followed. We lost one another several times along the way, constantly trying to remain the same on the new ground that we placed ourselves upon. It has taken years, and through trial and error, we found each other again by following the thread that binds us together. That thread is respect and love. We have aged not only in years, but in the soul as well. There has been an expansion and a softening that has come from listening, learning, and leaving what needed to be left.

I look at the picture of us now and see two women who are at peace. I see clear eyes and clear hearts, and sisters who stand on their own…leaning into each other like branches stemming from the same root.

There is no mask we hide behind now….this is who we are, and for that- I am forever grateful.

10 years from now, this picture or post may pop up in my world, and I wonder……

What will our eyes speak of then?

A very wise friend sent me a message recently that said, ‘Somewhere there is a dream, dreaming you.” The seemingly simple phrase stopped me in my tracks, and I immediately thought, ‘But wait! I have to actively put energy into my dream to make it a reality!” It was a surprise to me that such a lovely quote could evoke such an uncomfortable response in me, and I decided to sit with it for a time to see what came up.

The following is what I found: LIMBO. Why not EMBRACE limbo instead of dreading it? Limbo, to me, means the period of time where you haven’t fully left the present yet, but haven’t exactly reached your destination either. Why not redefine it as a beautiful transition period, instead of something we have to get through in order to reach the other side of our goals or dreams?

For years, limbo has been a four letter word in my circle. We would talk about being strong, offering words of comfort like, “this too shall pass, you’ll feel better once you are settled, etc.” But as I sat and thought about my friend’s words…..limbo began to take on a new and exciting meaning for me. To think that “my dream” is also actively searching for me, is such an inspiriting thought.  Instead of thinking about this “in between” time as a dormant nothingness that I have to trudge through, why not envision it as a time of honoring?

I honor the place I am coming from, and have started to let it go with love. I honor the place I am heading to, and am sending harmonious energy towards this destination that doesn’t exactly have a shape yet. And that is where the difficulty is, isn’t it? The NOT KNOWING exactly what the future, or the culmination of the dream looks like.

I have always had destination addiction- clinging to the next “right” or “exciting” event in life, whether that was getting engaged, getting married, buying a house, having a baby, etc. And now I find myself in a different space…..even though I checked all of those life events off my proverbial bucket list, I still have this internal force churning out a quiver of, ‘What next! What next! What next!”…

When I am quiet and still, I find that I am in a place in my life where that quiver does not match my vibration anymore. The frenzied feeling of, ‘Hurry up and do the next right thing, right now!” does not sit well with me.

Now, I feel a deep thrum of…. “Nourish your dream….it needs time to flourish, and you need time to let go of things that no longer serve you. Embrace this shifting…

Perhaps motherhood has forced me to slow down and remain in the present moment, even though my inner mind wants to run off to the races at times. I am grateful for this shift. Motherhood has taught me that every moment, every day, and every season is precious, and should not be rushed or hurried through.

Now, when I feel an inkling of the quiver of limbo coming on, I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and imagine:

I am gliding upon a silver lake in a skiff, headed towards Avalon. The Crescent Moon is already etched upon my brow and is just beginning to heal. I can hear the call of the Island….feel the possibilities that await there….but today is not the day to part the mists. And so I stand at the bow of the boat, breathe in the magic of the mists around me, and exhale with the faith that Avalon will tell me when to raise my arms, part the mists, and step forward into the future. From now on, I will honor the space in between, for there is wisdom to be learned in the waters.

There was a time where I would have categorized myself as broken. Other people most likely would have used that descriptor in regards to me as well, and it was essentially true. I was an alcoholic, who’s coping mechanisms consisted of numbing myself into oblivion, manipulation, and self sabotage.

OOF. That’s a heavy sentence to write….it feels like so long ago… AND YET.

I still keep waiting for myself to break.

Life now is not without its challenges, which should feel obvious, but for some reason, can really catch me off guard from time to time.

These past few months, (ok eight) have been really difficult. Flynn has been sick, which means Charlie and I have been sick, and then there’s been the whole “learning how to be parents, holding down full time jobs, maintaining a house/mortgage, and also being present in our marriage thing”. It’s a lot. It’s ALSO incredibly amazing, because look at this little miracle we made….but holy cow, does all of the above test my limits.

I keep waiting to break, to REACH my limit- because that was what I was used to in a stressful situation. In the past, I would have escalated the difficulty, because I knew the breaking point was inevitable, and in that escalation, I would most likely have done more damage to my life to just “get it over with”.

One important thing to remember is that when I was drinking, I normally created these problems and difficulties. Now, I am living life on life’s terms, and riding the waves. Those terms feel like a pretty rough sea at the moment.

But I haven’t broken, and my “limit” is not currently in my line of sight. Because I am sober, I have tools, and people, and outlets to help me through the difficult moments, or months. But the biggest thing I have now that I didn’t before? MY BREATH.

I do not break…. because I BREATHE. There is no substance, situation, or stresss that can take away the control I have over my breath, or my outlook. I don’t look to escape anymore…. I look to learn and grow from life’s challenges.

One of the most beautiful things about sobriety, is that we are constantly learning and evolving. I am not the same person I was when I got sober almost three years ago, and I don’t expect to be in the same place or mindset in another three.

Writing this post reminds me to stay in the moment and to acknowledge that even though things are difficult, I get to control my reaction to them.

So I choose breath, and I choose grace.

Right now, I am holding onto the image of a lotus flower. The lotus cannot, and will not blossom, unless it has first planted its roots in muddy waters. The lotus opens petal by petal…. slowly unfolding with grace and beauty. Without the mud, it would not spring to life, or continue to thrive. I understand now that life will always throw us hardships- some more arduous than others. But I have also come to understand that it is how we face those challenges that truly defines us. Without challenges and difficulties, we would not grow and gain wisdom….and I would never want to live in a world where I don’t have the opportunity to be better, and do better. Sobriety and the act of getting sober has taught me that I can achieve anything I set my mind to. It has also taught me that I can also withstand stressful, and uncomfortable times in life in order to open myself up to new beauty and understanding. So, I will settle my roots down deep, and plant my intentions.

I am not a stranger to the mud.