Coral’s Healing Room at 505-269-9242 I rise early. I go to bed early. If you need me, I will make myself available to you.

What we allow will continue.

Good morning everyone! Happy Sunday! I feel amazing this morning thinking about my sobriety. I am taking my five year chip tomorrow at noon and I am really, really thankful. January 2nd I turned 5. My conscious life began to begin. I am so thankful for five years of sobriety.

Sunday mornings for me were like the Johnny Cash song, “Sunday Morning Coming Down”, to which I made myself a pitcher of bloody Mary’s, for the pounding headache that ailed me. Not to mention, all of those vegetables were very good for me. It should be no surprise at all that my favorite vodka was made of potatoes! I was a hot fucking mess and so I drank!!! What we allow will continue.

So on this Sunday morning, I am thankful for my medicinal tea. I am thankful for my studio space to meditate in. I am thankful for our home. I am thankful for us.

I found my way back to prayer and being comfortable talking to God in that forum again. My brother Rumi brought me back and I am so, so thankful. I have amazing people in my life. You are in my life and I am so thankful.

I know that I am leaping off of the edge of all that I know and all that I have ever known before, as I allow God to remove my fear this morning. I allow God to cast away my doubt. I let go. I have been so afraid to jump. This morning, I jump. I jump into my purpose. I walk toward all that invites me to move forward and to honor my highest good. I move into a life of service and trust that it will pay our bills and provide us all we need. I stop chasing clients and invite them to come to me. I have a lot to offer and I accept that I am worthy to be paid my asking price. I will not underestimate or under-value myself any longer. It was so lovingly suggested to me that I take the letter that I wrote to Tamara a day or so ago, and replace her name with my own name. How did that feel? That felt fucking amazing! Thank you so much for suggesting that to me Holly! I would highly suggest any of you to do the same. Replace Tamara’s name with yours and read the post again. Dear Coral….see for yourself. Truly…see yourself and love and appreciate yourself. We each deserve to be seen. Thank you for the reminder my beautiful cousin! I love you!

We come here every morning, you and I, to figure it all out together. We meet in this healing room to summon the courage to heal ourselves. We trust here. We live and love here. Everyone is welcome here and no one is turned away here. We talk about some hard fucking stuff in this space and we always will. What we allow will continue.

I want each of you to help me to find a way to call attention to this and to bring an end to this. There must be consequences for this. Please pray for our sister with me this morning. What we have allowed is continuing.

As long as the elderly are being left to die alone in nursing homes, where there are being brutalized and raped and tortured, we will talk about it. We will bring this dark and fucked up bullshit into the light.

If you are on your way to church this morning, please lift our beautiful sister up in prayer. Our beautiful sister has been in a vegetative state for over a decade, after a near drowning incident, at a nursing facility in Phoenix, Arizona. After being raped in a vegetative state, she gave birth to a son a couple of days ago. Please pray for her. People say they aren’t in there…I am here to tell you we are all fucking in there until we are not in there. The doctor said that she felt pain. In labor for hours to possibly days…she felt pain. Being raped…not allegedly fucking raped…she could not consent to anyone…she has been vegetative for over a decade. It’s not fucking alleged. Someone…someone’s…raped this woman. Within the last nine months, someone fucked this poor woman and impregnated her!!! What in the fuck are we going to do about this? We…you and I…us and them…what in the fuck are we going to do about this? We pretend that it doesn’t happen and we do nothing. Well, now you know…google her. What are we going to do? I am going to bring awareness to this and I am going to ask you to do the same. Blow up social media and get this poor woman some justice. Pray for her. Love her. Pray for him. Love him. For fucks sake…do something. We must each do something. I write. I ask you to do something to. We cannot allow our elderly to leave the world this way…our injured and terminally ill to be discarded this way. We cannot be more concerned about being politically correct than we are about being fucking human beings. God please bless this woman and show her your grace and love and mercy. Please, with me, with all of your heart…send her all of your love. Send all of the people in similar situations all of your love. If your family members are in assisted care facilities, nursing facilities and hospitals…under hospice care and paid care…I would advise you to do some research. Love them for fucks sake and protect them. Know the people who care for the people you care for. Please.

Our loved ones…our elders and our brothers and sisters…our mothers and our fathers..they are being brutalized in these facilities and we are paying them very well to do so. Don’t take my word for it…do your own research. First though, please pray and send our sister all of your love. Thank you. What we allow will continue.

What Tombstone taught me about love…

I dedicate tonight’s blog to the first and most wonderful pig I ever met…my boyfriend Tombstone. Tombstone softened my heart and changed my life. I never met a pig before I met Tombie. I ate plenty of pigs…bacon, sausage and pork chops. I never knew my bacon had a face. Tombstone gave a face to the things I indulged on that we’re not things at all. The things I fried up in my pan and ate with my eggs…those used to be someone. Tombstone taught me that bacon has a face. Tombstone taught me that pigs feel and that pigs are smart and loyal. Tombstone taught me that pigs love and need love. I love you Tombstone. Thank you for loving me, in spite of me. Thank you for the lessons and for blessing my life with you! I am vegan for five years in March because Tombstone taught me that bacon had a face. Tombstones sister Piñon taught me that chickens have a beating heart. Thank you to Tombstone and Piñon, I am vegan now.

Dear Tombstone,

Today on our human calendar, you have been gone a year. We went to bed sad last night thinking of this day. You changed our lives through your life. You, our founding father, have changed us. Today, we speak your name.

Tombstone is the first pig I ever met. Five years ago, I got a call from my friend Tamara to ask me if I could talk to her pig Tombstone. Tamara said he had been standing in the pelting hail and freezing cold and would not go into his house. I was hungover and getting in the shower and I assured her I would get with Tombstone. Before my shower was over, I was seeing Tombstone standing facing away from his house and getting blasted. I asked him why he wasn’t going in his house. Tombstone was very clear that he didn’t know where his house was. I told him to turn around and walk inside, and he did. I wasn’t even out of the shower and my phone was ringing…”What did you say to my pig? He just turned around and walked in his house!” I told her he didn’t recognize his house and that is why he was outside. It smelled and looked different Tombie said. Tamara said there had been some work on his house…insulated and painted and baking powder put down to absorb the odor of urine and poop. Ahhh…yes…that explains it. And that was my first encounter with Tombstone.

The first time I met Tombstone, I assumed we were fast friends. I was wrong. It took a while before I could speak around Tombstone at all. I had to be escorted by Tamara. Until Tombie could trust my hands and my Reiki…we didn’t speak aloud at all.

Tombstone became one of my very dearest friends. With all of my heart, I love Tombstone. Thrown away in a dumpster for being defective, with a lame front leg…only a day or so old…that is how Tombie came in. Tamara pulled Tombstone from that dumpster and the rest is history. We lost Tombstone a year ago today. Our hearts hurt.

Thank you Tombstone, for teaching me how to love, in spite of what I learned. Thank you for teaching me what it means to me someone and not something. I miss you buddy. We miss you so much. Momma Tamara misses you the very most. Please shower her with popcorn, I mean, love…and help her sad little heart. Today hurts us without you. You aren’t in your house. We miss you. We love you. We thank you.

If you would please, say it with me, with all of your heart, “We love you Tombstone.”