Living my truth as a Lightworker

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

Seeds of Intention

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.

SANCTUARY

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.

Chrysalis

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.

Soul Growth

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?

Embracing Limbo

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.

A thought on breaking..

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.

A Birth Story

It’s the middle of the night and I can’t sleep… thoughts and words racing through my head. I am sitting in Flynn’s Nursery- my favorite room in the house, listening to the owl call outside in the trees. She’s been calling persistently all night, and I’m taking it as a sign to quietly begin to answer.

I have needed to write Flynn’s birth story for a while, but I haven’t quite been able to find a way to start. In one sense, I suppose it’s because in my heart, I feel his story began long before I became pregnant, and in another sense, it was a truly overwhelming, traumatic, and beautiful experience all at once…. so how do I do justice to that with words? I can only try.

Flynn came into this world on the Autumn Equinox at 1:36pm weighing 5 pounds and one ounce. I was convinced he would be born in October, but this little boy had other plans. The Autumn Equinox is the one day of the calendar year where the light (day) and dark (night) are perfectly balanced and equal. Looking back, my pregnancy was a true example of this… it was the most difficult thing I have ever gone through, (even getting sober) and the most miraculous… as I was literally growing another life in my body and nourishing him into being. I have never felt more beautiful than when I was pregnant, and I have never been in more pain. The duality of that isn’t lost on me now as I type this, and it deserves far more thought than this one sentence, but I can only articulate that I learned so much about the strength and perseverance that we as women are innately born with. There truly is beauty in the breakdown…

From the beginning of my pregnancy, I had chronic Hypertension, which is essentially a blood pressure disorder. We monitored it and kept it at bay with medication, which I’m still on today because of it. As the months ticked by, it got worse and worse, and turned into Super Imposed Preeclampsia. No mama-to-be wants to hear those words, but I knew I was in good hands and had the best team of doctors and nurses behind me.

I went into the hospital on a Monday for elevated blood pressure and proteins, and stayed for seven days. Oh those SEVEN days….. For the first few, I kept thinking, “ok they will send me home after a few more hours of observation… nope, nope, and then definitely nope.”

On the 4th day they finally decided it was time to be induced. And then the contractions started. When a woman tells you that you cannot know HOW bad contractions are, believe her! I didn’t, and this is an official apology to all the mamas who came before me that I listened to and silently thought “well, they can’t be THAT bad.” They are.

Because of The Preeclampsia, my doctors started me on a magnesium drip to prevent me from having seizures while I was given various things to make my cervix dilate. Magnesium makes you feel like you have the flu and that your whole body is Jello. It essentially slows everything down so that your body won’t seize up due to extremely high blood pressure. It would also protect me from seizures during contractions and labor.

I was so weak, in so much pain, and so terrified as to how I was going to push this baby out when I couldn’t even get out of bed to go to the bathroom. Throughout the next couple of days, I slowly dilated, kept having contractions, and my blood pressure kept on spiking. My doctors would come in every hour or more and push blood pressure medication into my IV to keep me stable. I had contractions for 3 days with no pain medication other than stadal, because it was too early for an Epidural, and once I had the Epidural, I wouldn’t be able to have it again. I have to say that I was given a guardian angel of a nurse… aptly named Joy- who got me through the worst of my labor pains and contractions. When I was planning “my birth experience” I loved the idea of using a Doula, and it just didn’t fall into place. I can tell you with utter certainty that Joy was sent to me to be my Doula. There are no coincidences. I still need to contact her to thank her…. but every time I try and write a note words fail me. I still vividly remember her eyes and her voice when she told me that I was doing so well, being so strong, and was already taking such good care of my baby. She was an angel, and her words gave me the courage and strength to keep going.

Those 3 days are mostly a blur of pain and stress, with the exception of my husband, who never left my side. He was calm, strong, and understanding when I needed him to be….. and I’m proud (and let’s be honest, a little surprised) to say I only had one monster meltdown moment where at about 5:30am the morning before I gave birth I demanded that Charlie call my mom. He started to text, and I believe I literally screamed at him, “ARE YOU TEXTING?!?!” Needless to say, he stopped and dialed.

I was done, exhausted, worried, terrified, and needed my mom. My sweet husband was immediately worried that he hadn’t done enough or wasn’t giving me what I needed, but in truth… I just NEEDED MY MOM.

She arrived shortly after his call, and things started to escalate quickly. I started the pitocin in the morning, and was FINALLY given the Epidural with Joy coaching me through it. Her shift ended, and I wanted to cry… we looked at each other, and I knew she didn’t want to go, and I absolutely wanted her to stay, but she kissed me on the forehead and told me I was doing amazing. I will never forget her.

A few hours later, at about noon, my mother in law Susan arrived, as she would be in the labor room with me, Charlie, and my mom.

The nurses had checked my cervix, and I was about 6 centimeters dilated at that point, and was told that the baby would most likely come that evening.

My mom and Susan decided they had plenty of time, so they headed down to the cafeteria to have some lunch. At about the same time, I asked a nurse what I should be feeling when I was ready to push. She told me that I would be feeling a lot of pressure in my bottom. Without hesitation, I told her I was ready. She laughed a bit, and told me she’d get the doctor to check me soon. He came in, and to everyone’s surprise (BUT MINE) I was 10 centimeters and was ready to push.

Charlie immediately called our mothers who dropped their salads and came running back upstairs. It was all so quick they almost weren’t let back in the room- but anyone who knows my mother, knows she got the heck back in there, hell or high water!

While the doctor was washing up, the nurse told me I could do a practice push as I had no idea what I was doing! I listened to her instructions, pushed, and Flynn’s head crowned! The nurses yelled for me to stop, and I had to hold him there until the doctor came back in.

Five minutes, and two quick pushes later, Flynn Thomas Martin was born. He came flying out and the doctor caught him like a football. I heard his cry, and relief flooded over me, and I looked over at my mother as she cried with me.

Then everything changed. The nurse put Flynn on my chest with his back towards me, and my whole body was screaming that something was wrong. He wasn’t moving. After about 15 seconds I think I screamed, “take him, take him!” And he was whisked over to the side of the room where 11 doctors and nurses rushed in to try and resuscitate him.

Charlie stayed by my side as the doctor sewed me up, and I watched the sheer terror on my mother and mother in law’s faces as they stood in the corner with Flynn. I remember being suspended in that moment thinking…. “This is happening to my family again…” It felt like hours. Hours of being in that moment of sheer horror that we could be at this place between life and death again.

It was 10 minutes. Our amazing doctors and nurses worked on Flynn for 10 minutes to get his breathing stable, and thank the Divine it stayed that way. He was whisked off to the NICU for oxygen and monitoring, and I was stitched up and kept on Magnesium for another 24 hours.

This meant that after DAYS of labor, the only contact I had with my son was 10 seconds of his still little body on my panic filled chest. My body didn’t know what to do with itself… where was the skin to skin…. where were the tears, and happy pictures of Charlie standing over me as I held my son in my arms for this first time? I spent the next 24 hours in an exhausted daze, smiling tearily at pictures of Flynn that Charlie took from the NICU.

My mother always taught me that every cloud had a silver lining… and this story is no exception. My husband introduced me to my son. First…. through pictures and stories of how he was already a little fighter, and was ripping off his oxygen tube. Then, he recounted for me that he fed him for the first time, and Flynn grabbed ahold of his hand and didn’t let go. I had no doubt that Charlie would be an amazing father…. but I really can’t find words that do justice for what he became that day…. because of the way our birth story played out… Charlie and Flynn got to bond first- and it was and still is beautiful.

FINALLY… I was wheeled into the NICU 36 hours after giving birth to my son, and Charlie placed him in my arms.

My whole body inhaled, and then exhaled into a MOTHER.

THIS is what my body, heart, and soul had been waiting for… to hold my child in my arms and know that he was safe, healthy, and mine.

After two additional days in the hospital, Charlie and I brought our little boy home. I rode in the backseat with him, and he held my hand the whole way….. squeezing tight when we went around corners or took a bump in the road.

He is 7 1/2 months now, and still holds my hand just about all the time. He is a little rascal, and full of magic, and wins over everyone with his big blue eyes and rakish smile. And when he wakes in the night, it still just takes my hand in his for him to fall back asleep… I know we have so much life ahead of us, but I also know that whatever sharp corners or bumps in the road we come across…. my hand will always be there for him to grasp.

I love you, Flynn Thomas Martin. Thank you for giving me the greatest joy I have ever known. You give me butterflies everyday, and are such a magical little boy. You already shine so brightly…. I am honored to be your mother and watch you glow.

The Journey Begins

Before I introduce myself, I want to say that this is not only my space, but a space for everyone who is searching for something greater in life. That little niggle you may have in the pit of your stomach that something is missing? I have felt that niggle many times and still do….I want this space to be about finding that sacred something that fills you with light. It is my hope and intention that if I share my journey along the way, that I will learn from all of you too. So, thank you for joining me, and for honoring this space as OURS.

My name is Stacie- I am a 32 year old Double Pisces, (think dreamer, sensitive, empath, water lover to the extreme) and am married to a wonderful Taurus man, who as you can probably guess, keeps me grounded and from floating too far off into the clouds.

We welcomed our first child, Flynn Thomas Martin on September 22, 2017, and he is pure magic. He was born on the Autumn Equinox, and absolutely embodies the balance of light and dark that the Equinox encompasses. If you keep reading, F28 you will come to know that I do not believe in coincidences. Everything happens for a reason in life, and Flynn was meant to be born that day.

I am a full time working mom in Corporate America, as well as a Certified Reiki Master and Tarot Reader. One of the reasons that I am starting this blog is because I have more manifesting to do. Much more. Healing is my passion, and I am working towards becoming a Healer full time. Putting these words out (along with many more, fingers crossed) is one of the ways I am working toward that dream. So! Deep breathe…..here I go! Thank you for stopping by…..the door is ALWAYS open.

Love and Light,

Stacie

A Lesson

A lesson: I have wrestled with the anomaly of being an identical twin my entire life. Am I one half of a whole? A whole who isn’t original? I went away to college to perhaps try and remedy those adolescent theories, but found myself back home again where I started.

My sister and I are so close, that when we were teenagers, going to the mall together felt like we were there “alone”, as in singular. Over the years our relationship has been tried and tested to its very limits. We have gone through experiences together and alone that we could easily not have come back from.

Thankfully, our bond in the present has never been stronger… except for today. Today, I was brought to my knees  by a picture of my twin sister in the bath with my son, trying to ease his pain and discomfort from an amoxicillin rash.

Something inside me physically shifted, like the final twist in a Celtic Knot. My twin sister was an extension of me. My son was soothed, loved, and having the time of his life in the bath, because not only does he love his Auntie- but he often doesn’t know if it is her or me with him. She was there for him when I couldn’t be today.

F29It took 32 years and a beautiful baby boy to teach me the true meaning of being a twin. We are branches of each other’s love, each other’s strength, and each other’s compassion. I am doubly rooted in this world because of her, and now I understand that my ability to affect change in and on this world is twofold. Because of her. Because of us. Because we are twins.
Love and Light,

Stacie