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

We fucking love you Cherie!

Good morning everyone! We woke to a blanket of white snow on everything and 8 degrees outside! It’s beautiful and peaceful and quiet and serene. I am home here and I am so thankful. I belong here and I am grateful. I am at peace here. Even in my unrest, I am at peace here in these mountains, here with this woman, here with these sentient and beautiful and peaceful and healing beings. Everyone is still safely tucked inside their cozy beds awaiting the sun. I came down to write and to meditate. The pellet stove burns bright and the lights glisten off the snow. I sit to spend some time with you this morning. Wherever you are, I hope you are safe and warm and content. Thank you for praying with me yesterday. We will be praying together a lot, to heal us all. Until every single one of us is whole, not one of us will truly be whole. We must come to understand this…to know this and to be the love that tips the scales, not the hate that keeps us petrified, holds us hostage and stunts our evolution and our growth.

There is someone sleeping in our house right now whom epitomizes love. Love is an action word and this woman is in action…in selfless action…consistently and all of the time. Yesterday morning as Tamara and I were shoveling and snow blowing our way to everyone, this beautiful woman was preparing for a trip to our house, to help dig us out. With her permission, I to dedicate my blog today to our dear friend and sister, Cherie. Our beautiful angel…Cherie.

Our beautiful angel lives at least an hour from our home, on a good weather day. As I had mentioned, we have been under blizzard watch and the roads, though open, were treacherous. We had at least two feet of snow on the ground and it never stopped snowing yesterday. With many obligations of her own and with her snow shovel and her overnight bag in tow, she set out to brave the storm for us. We had no idea she was coming until she texted to let us know she was stuck and awaiting a tow.

I have spoken endlessly about love as a verb…love as an action word. When we love, we are moved into action. Love is why we are here in the first place.

It is now 4:30pm and everyone at Santuario is tucked in safe and warm. Our dear friend and sister Cherie is home safe and sound…cold as a popsicle and probably ready for a good nights sleep. Cherie left her own rescue and her own dogs and her own husband and their home to come and be of service to us. I cannot think of a more shining example of selfless than that, can you? We had a slumber party here at Santuario last night. We broke bread together and we talked to and listened to one another. We love you Cherie! Thank you for making time for what is important you. We are touched beyond words at your love in action. We are sorry for all of your troubles trying to reach us and we are glad you are home safe and sound with your babies tonight.

Thank you to our neighbors for giving Cherie a hand. You guys know who you are and you fucking rock! Thank you for stopping and taking the time to help a dear sister of ours in need. Tamara and I love you and are so thankful for the love up here in the hood! Truly. We have amazing fucking neighbors. We have amazing people in our lives and we just want to thank each and every one of you for how you see and love us. We love you all right back!

Back to Cherie…what a glorious human being…what a selfless example of love in action. Cherie, thank you for leaving all that you love and hold dear in life to come and help us. We love you. We thank you. We’ve got you too sister!

This evenings, I write for us all:

Some of us who feel the least loved are the most loving. Some of us who hurt the worst, help the most. Some of us who cry ourselves to sleep at night wake up every morning, just to make you smile. We go so far out of our way for others sometimes that we actually often forget our own way back. We love. We love fucking fierce. We regress. We begin again. We fall and we stand back up. We know you need us to stand back up and so we do. We hurt. We are love. We stand united and we know that we are not alone. We show up. We know why we are here and we are fucking in…we are all in…all the time…we are all in. We love. We forget that we deserve love to. We are learning who we are…how we feel and what we want. We will let you know what and how that is. We would appreciate like effort from you. We matter. We love. This is how we do it…those of us who walk this walk. We just fucking do it. We are all in. We are inspired and we are on fire. Our crowns have been fucked with and our sparkles have been dimmed…our dreams and lives shattered…our bodies wrecked and savagely beaten…and still, we will not back down. We stand up for you when you are right. We stand up to you when you are wrong. We care. We draw a line. This line is our boundary. We honor our boundaries and you will honor them too. We insist. We…who is we? We…you and I…him and her…them and us…we. I speak of each of us…of all of us. We are all the same. We are never individually whole until we are each whole. I am because you are. Ubuntu. I love you.

Thank you Cherie and everyone who loves us like a verb. We love you right back! I’m off to enjoy a cozy evening with my girl and our dogs. We miss them when we get so busy. Tonight we have family night and we count our blessings…and you are among them! Thank you. I love you. Goodnight.

Thank you for this inspiring post this morning Diane! Sharing it with everyone else too! I hope you don’t mind!

Tell your mom the truth…

Good morning everyone! I got down to the Healing Room early this morning. Sitting in front of the pellet stove next to Prajna and I realize how content I am in these moments.

I feel my load lighten and my path widen a bit. I feel my depths become deeper as the shallow fades into rear view. I am not in the depths of despair this morning and I am grateful. The shallows of expectations not met and dreams shattered seem less significant now as I begin swimming. We are not wading anymore. We are not resting and hiding in life preservers. The leap that I just took into the life I have always imagined takes my breath away as I gently sail down to the water.

Make no mistake, I am here to gather my tribe. Diving to my depths, they await me. I invite you to dive down with me and I give you notice that I won’t be treading in shallow waters anymore and calling that swimming. I won’t be lying in the gutter and call that resting. I won’t be merely surviving and calling that living.

My writing is my way of touching you. My words are your words and your words are mine. We are one. We are the same. If you are drowning, I am drowning. I am because you are. My language, so creative and so Coral…using the word “fuck” like that’s appropriate. Using the word “fuck” because that is part of who I’m called to be. I don’t throw that out there to be an asshole…that was for my moms benefit, and I wouldn’t really user the word benefit. I believe it was subconsciously my only jab back. Now, I’ve come to know that me and my life and my language and my work and my haircut and my tattoos are mine. With my things, on my pages, in my language and in true Coral form…I do what I want. What I want is not the same as what others have wanted from me and for me. What I want is what I want and I am just beginning to figure out what that is.

Many of you close to me still have your Mom. I am here to tell you something really important, so pay attention. I am doing and saying and being someone that I was unable to be when my mom was alive in body. Out of respect for her need to be silent, my story and my experiences as they actually occurred for me, stayed inside of me. At least for the most part. My mom wanted my hair to look a certain way and didn’t like my tattoos or my piercings. My mom hated my favorite word so, so much, until right before she died too. My mom designed her memorial tattoo herself on my right arm right before she died. My mom said “fuck” a number of times right before she died. Greatly offended I asked her “why would say ‘fuck’ to me?!?” My mom said, with brain tumor and eradicated with cancer throughout her entire body…”because it is very liberating” followed by a middle finger and a “fuck you” to my dad from across the room. Why wait to liberate yourself until you are dying? Truly, liberate yourself now, however that looks and feels for you, without being inflictive to others of course. Having me in your living room for five minutes can do that…if you need my help, I’m for hire! If you need a push or some help, reach out.

Your mom is a human being, being human, just like you. Your mom may even be a visit that you have come to dread. Here is my advice: Tell your mom that she is an overbearing, controlling and unkind woman to you. Tell your mom that because you do love her so much, you must tell her how being around her feels for you. Being around the woman because she’s dying or going to fucking die so that you don’t regret not being around her? Really?! Think about that…think about what you are doing to you both by continuing this fucking insanity. You are doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Why? Every miserable fucking minute you spend with anyone for any reason is simply that…a miserable fucking minute. All you are going to get is many more miserable minutes. And yes, as many as you can cram in before she fucking dies…Why? This reminds me of what my health teacher said in the seventh grade, “For every minute you exercise, you live another minute!” That is fucking wonderful if you like to exercise. What if you don’t like to exercise though? All of those extra minutes you racked up doing something you hate are just that…more minutes added to your life, doing something you don’t want to do. Why?

Your mom…she is a perfectly flawed human being. My mom was a perfectly flawed human being. My mom did and your mom may, inflict her will upon you. You may, as I did, allow her to, because she is your mom. I am a perfectly flawed human being myself and I thought that was what I was supposed to do to be a good daughter. I could not have been more wrong, for both of our sakes and here is why; Every moment that you spend being who you are not for or with anyone, including and especially your mom, are robbing you both of the fucking prize. The prize is the authenticity of being yourself…the beauty of dressing like and looking like and being you is the most beautiful gift that you can give your mom. Don’t you want your mom to know what amazing things you are doing with the life she carried into this world? Do you not want your mom to see who you are? Who the fuck are you? I had no idea because I spent my entire life trying to be who others wanted me to be…most of all my mom.

Do yourself and your mom a favor. Be fucking honest. Be kind. Be loving. Be firm. Speak your truth with your voice. You’re mom carried you in and from there on out, you are on your own. We all are on our own. Do not let the woman who carried you in be the reason you want to take yourself out, simply because you will never be who she wanted you to be. Who do you want to be? Who are you?

You are beautiful. You are smart. You are valuable. You are resourceful. You are present. You are a good daughter. You are a good son. Make your mom proud? Why? And truthfully, would it work anyway? Make your mom aware of how you feel when you are around her. Tell your mom how it feels to come see her and that you do it out of obligation and not because you want to. Tell your mom that she is an asshole. Hear your mom when she tells you that you are an asshole. You are neither one wrong. Tell your mom that you love her and that you want to want to come see her and right now you really don’t.  You don’t like to call her and you don’t like to visit because…

I began attempting this several years before my mom passed away and it did not go at all well. My mom didn’t talk to me for weeks the first time that I really stood up to her. The susbsequent Times didn’t go a lot better for a while either. My mom died not knowing how badly she hurt me. Don’t do that to you and don’t do that to your mom.

You deserve to be treated with love and gratitude and respect. Your opinion does matter and your fucked up hair looks great to me! Do not keep yourself from yourself. Don’t keep who you really are from the woman who carried you in. What a horrible shame and substantial loss it would be for you to not let her get to know the wonder of you. What a shame it is that you are only spending quantity and not quality time with her before one of you dies. If she can’t be nice, spend less time with her and make it fucking count when you are there. Don’t stay and put up with it. Pick up your things and tell her that you will return when she can be kind to you. You want to make your mom angry,  proud, comfortable…you cannot make your mom those things. Be who you really are and watch how much she comes to love, respect and admire the amazing human being that she brought into being. Or watch in your rear view as she doesn’t. Sherry and I journeyed closer in two months than we did in 42 years, as I walked my mother home.

My mom loved me with all of her heart and my mom wanted what she thought was best for me. My mom is one of the most poignant and amazing human beings I have ever known and she was my best friend for 42 years. My mom didn’t handle me or my truth or who I was very well at times, as I did not handle hers well at times either. My mom is not here. Your mom still is. Don’t deprive yourselves of each other for one more moment.

Hi mom, it’s Coral. I am wondering if we could spend some time together today? I want to tell you how much I love you. I haven’t been honest with you and I want to set things straight between us. I love you with all of my heart and I need to tell you that you are hurting me. I need you to please not interrupt and to hear me out, okay? Being around you often kills my fucking soul. You are my mom and I want to spend time with you as me. In fact, I wanted to talk to you to tell you that if I cannot be me around you, I am going to spend less time with you….

I cannot choose your words. Only you can do that. Make them your words. If your voice is shaking and your ass is clenching just thinking about this conversation, you are doing it right. If you need help, I’ve many years of experience and a mom that I cannot have this conversation with anymore, so give me a call and I will see how I can help you. For yourself…for your mom…for the sake of the time you have left together, have an honest conversation with your mom today. Make these moments count and be who you are. Don’t let your mom die not ever really knowing the beautiful wonder that you are. Sherry says call your mom and be real. Here if you need me. Have a beautiful day! I live you!

Let us talk today about human beings, allowing humans being…

Today I want to talk about human beings allowing humans, being ( I will let you sit with that for a quick minute or two)

Human beings, being human, brings me to this mornings topic is about soul splitting pain, the kind that literally takes you to your knees in an instant.

Pain like this, for me, usually comes with some element of deception. This kind of pain is a pain all of its own because this pain renders your soul screaming for reprieve, while your body buckles under the tremendous pressure.

Pain of this caliber, for me has come repeatedly in my life and yet, as bad as it ever was, it was never as bad as it was most recently.

I touch on and write about this pain today, because I know a lot of you are feeling this kind of pain right now too. A lot of you are in the throes of this and have no idea what has hit you.

This kind of pain, for me, almost always involves deception. My heart cannot handle deception and my mind cannot compute things if deception is present. My brain will literally keep re-computing until 1+1=2, and if it doesn’t, and my heart realizes that, and this is where the soul-splitting pain comes from, for me…in the inability to understand why there is deception. Why is a question that I am really trying to eliminate from my vocabulary, because, truthfully, does it really even matter?

Deception is the worst for me when I realize that it is there and I begin trying to get one plus one to equal two, with questions, with my own common sense…with whatever means needed, for me to balance the equation…Incidentally, I fucking hate math and I am pretty good with the basic equations…so when 1+1=3, it fucks with me and literally rips at my heart strings.

Deception, dishonesty, lies, deceit…don’t all of those words make your stomach turn a bit? Take a moment and say each word out loud…and observe…it is literally like someone shit in your mouth, isn’t it?

Imagine that someone whom you’ve trusted your whole life, maybe a parent…has lied to you about being your parent. I cannot even imagine that kind of pain…I just cannot imagine. I have no doubt that there is someone is reading this who is living this pain right now, and so I want to say this to you, you are a child of God, and you are loved and you are right where you belong. I also want to validate you and your pain and tell you that I am so sorry for the pain you are in, AND welcome home!

I imagine that there must be someone who has recently lost their spouse, reading this blog. Maybe you lost your spouse because you were preceded in death. Maybe you do not know this, so I will tell you as gently as I can, because no one told me, death can bring out the ugly. We are not talking a little ugly, death can bring things out that you could never have imagined. You are going to find yourself unable to swallow and digest. You are going to be sick to your stomach and slammed to your fucking knees by some of the horror of human beings.

“We are all human beings, allowing humans being.” (Thank you Tamara for this and for allowing me to add my spin on it)

We are all humans, being.

We are being human.

We are human beings, allowing humans being.

AND…we are all flawed. “Being” is a verb…we are humans, being…being human…all of us are in action, being human.

I will take this a step further and remind us all that we are spiritual beings, having a temporary human experience.

Our parents that deceived us, they are humans, being. Our wife that got pregnant, while she was in a lesbian relationship, she is a human, being. Our Mom who fell really fucking short of our expectations…more than she is a Mom, she is a human, being, just like you and I, learning to be human. Guess what, Mom, is flawed and imperfect and she was not given an instruction manual…she is being human. Dad…he is also, just like you and I…he is a human, being.

So, for your own heart, for your own soul…let humans be.

This lesson is kicking me right in the teeth and dead on, heart center, as we speak. Allow the human being whom I have so many expectations of, to just be a human, being.

When Tamara said this to me the other day, when we were talking about the beautiful girl, left tied to our gate, I asked her to text it to me. I wanted to embrace this idea, to really allow myself the healing that comes with the simplicity of this truth;

Human beings…being human, allowing other beings to be human too…Tamara fucking nailed it and I am grateful. I am so grateful, that as soon as I processed it about a bit, I wanted to share it with you right away…

Have a beautiful Wednesday you beautiful humans, being. I love you and I wish you some peace in this knowledge…we are all humans, being.

Coral is a real person and she is here if you need her…just sayin…

Good morning everyone! We woke up to a very slight dusting of snow this morning…so thankful for the moisture!

I want to take a moment to thank all of you for your personal messages, texts, comments and phone calls. You undying love and support mean the world to me and I thank you so much for loving me so much!

I also get a number of messages from people who are struggling desperately on their journey, to find peace and hope again. I want each of you to know that I am here for you. I know that I put some hard to read stuff out there, and as many warnings as I put up, if you’re like me, you’re going to fucking read it anyway. In fact, you may be more inclined to read it with the warning…if you’re anything like me.

My story, unfortunately, is not as uncommon as you may think. Child abuse and incest are actually very common. We rape our children we abuse them mentally and sexually and physically and then we silence them with death threats and threats of harm and shame them and shun them. How is that we wonder why children kill children and hurt one another? Is that not what we are teaching them and subjecting them to?

Children mimick what they see and hear. Children learn by show and tell. What are you showing our children? What are you telling our children? They are listening. Our children are always listening. With that being said, and using myself as an example, I really need to be more mindful.

I have tried and failed, repeatedly, at being a step parent. I really, really tried and I mimicked what I learned as a child. Looking back, I am sorry, deeply sorry, for not knowing who I was then, and for mimicking what I saw and heard, rather than tapping into my own heart. I make no excuses, I was wrong, many times, and I stand corrected. I was in active addiction and I cared most about Coral back in those days. I hurt Children’s feelings because they fell short of my expectations…I still do that to Taos sometimes, I hurt her feelings, and I don’t mean to, but sometimes, I still do.

Look at the world around you. Look in your mirror. Look at me. Know that you are not alone and that my voice is for us all. If you don’t have the strength right now…if you do not have your voice yet…if you are scared, that is okay. You are both welcome and encouraged to take as much time as you need.

I was silent for most of my life. I was fucking scared out of my witts, for most of my life, to speak my truth.

I believe and have always believed, as someone who connected so passionately with the great Maya Angelou, honored by author Pearl Cleage and her book “We speak your names”…that there is great power in speaking their names.

When I publicly spoke the name of my abuser, after more than 44 years of forced silence…when I spoke her name, I took my power back. I choose now, to not speak her name. Giving her that kind of power, that kind of acknowledgement…it is not necessary and I won’t do it.

I speak the names of the greats, the women who did their best to reach for the stars, to lift others up, to make the world a brighter and better place for us all. I speak the names of great men, Martin Luther King…Nahko…my brother Elton…I speak their names with such deep respect and admiration and love, so much love…

When I speak my Moms name, I keep her spirit alive and here with me. I honor the life and leagacy of Sherry Marie Ricketts. I honor and amazing woman, who is ever present with me, because I speak her name. I speak her name.

So, if you have found yourself here, reading my blog, and resonating with my story…thank you. Most importantly, take care of you, always. If it is too much, don’t read it, at least not until you are ready. Take what you need and leave the rest.

If you find yourself in a situation, after reading my blog, to need someone to talk to, there is an actual person behind this blog…

Hi, my name is Coral and this is my blog. I write to heal myself, to get it all out, rather than keeping it all in. Please be mindful of the toxic spill that wreaked havoc on my life and don’t get any of it on yourself As you read my words.

I am Coral. I am real. I am here and you can always reach out to me, should you need me. I believe with all of my heart that we are, in fact, just walking each other home.

If you’re stumbling around out there on your journey and you are such a hot mess that you are spewing your negativity and filth all over everyone and you can’t stop…hit me up, because I have been there too. We need to always be mindful that if we cannot help someone, we pass by in love and light, offer a hug…and we do not, under any circumstances, harm them.

We are brave and strong and resilient. We are fucking amazing! We are the artists and the dreamers and the doers and the lovers…and we are on time. (Thank you again Nahko)

So…here we are…looking ahead…not behind us…we are moving forward now. You may not know this, in this moment, but you’ve got this! You really do and I am right here if you need me, to offer some love…I am right here and I invite you to call upon me if you need to, if you want to…and even if you do not, just know that I am very close and ever present and I love you…

 

Sam I am…

Driving home last night, it came over me how beautiful life really is. I have been in a pretty thick fog for a while, and so I embraced this feeling and tried to keep it with me, because this is how I want to feel…grateful and blessed and loved and love…

I was in my studio all day yesterday, with Taos, doing some pretty powerful work…work that I have put off for a lifetime, out of paralyzing fear and shame…inner child work…

For me…getting to the place to do this work at all, has been very difficult and humbling and scary and surreal. In fact, I didn’t even believe in this work for a very long time. I stand corrected. This is one of the most real things I have ever done.

I was trembling and shaking when I first tried to contact my inner child. I will be honest, I was scared that a whole bunch of inner Corals with crazy names and crazy hair would come flying out…and of all of the things I have never wanted to be…I have never wanted to be Cybil…

One little girl came forward and her name is Samantha. Samantha prefers to be called Sam. Sam is delightful and beautiful and funny and happy…she is so, so happy inside, all of the time. Sam always sees the bright side of everything and she is so patient with me…

Meeting Sam, really meeting her, has been one of the greatest blessings of my life! Walking through fear can be so hard, and this was so hard to get to…and it is so worth it…so fucking worth it…and Sam assured me that I am not Cybil, so that was enough to keep me coming back and working with Sam….

Actually, Sam and I don’t work much at all…we play and paint and listen to music and love on Taos. Sam loves to love on Baby Taos more than anything else in the world and Baby Taos has eagerly and patiently awaited Sams arrival, because Coral is not nearly as loving or as fun as Sam.

Sam is so honest…not rude…just very to the point and matter of fact, around all things and that is very refreshing because Coral has always stumbled and stammered around, quite unnecessarily, not realizing that “No.” is in fact, a complete answer.

Sam is very clear about most things and confused with a lot of things…and I am adulting my way through it, to help her to not be scared or confused…

I am learning to adult and parent, on my own terms. I realize that a lot of the things I have learned, I am very eager to un-learn…and that is not easy. Learning can be fun…un-learning is turning out to be very difficult and painful…I have to reprogram that which has been programmed, by horrific abuse, neglect…fear and survival…to peace and harmony and balance and light…and all love, all of the time…

I got scared when I started writing today, to mention Sam. I worried what you would think of me, or you….or what you would think…I dodged a barrage of labels that I threw at myself…just to get here.

So…without further hesitation, I am so proud to introduce all of you to Sam! Sam is Coral and Coral is Sam…so Sam, I am…I fucking love that…so whitty…(maybe explains my deep love of Dr. Seuss for my whole life).

Sam…this is everyone…and everyone, meet Sam…the most beautiful and smart and talented and funny and kind and gracious and giving and loving little girl I have ever met…

I find that I am shaking a little in the inside as I go to hit “publish”….I am not sure if the world is ready for Sam I am…I know Sam and I are ready for the world though…

So, hand in hand and heart to heart, Sam reaches up and grabs my hand and cheerfully says, “Let’s go Coral! We’ve got big work to do in the world.” Sam is right…we have big work to do…we are already doing the biggest work of all…we are speaking our truth, with our voice, even when our voice shakes…

Sam stops for a moment, breaks our hand hold and runs to get Baby Taos…and off we go…into the world, more whole than we have ever been…

Let us all learn from Sam, how to be brave…how to want to heal, more than we want to hurt…let us learn that we are okay…that we are enough and that we are not too much…

My gratitude bowl is overflowing…and I am honored to bring Sam into my life, my world and my heart, where she was always been, locked away and unable to be free…free at last…free at last…thank God almighty…we are free at last!

I love you Sam. I know Coral, and I love you too!

 

Today’s Challenge…go do one thing today, that is YOU…

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Good morning! My topic this morning came to me through a comment on my Facebook post, about finally being comfortable in my own skin…

A friend of mine, lost her husband unexpectedly a few days ago and she buried him two days ago…and so I first want to send she and her son all of my love.

I begin this morning, by asking you all to join me in sending them some love…to join me in sending our community and our world, some love…let’s visualize some serious love and healing, for us all.

I start with sending love, because love is why I am still here. Love has carried me through my darkest hours. When my Mom got sick and we asked for love and prayers…we were flooded with love…and prayers and more love…

Love is the answer, you know? For any question, Love is the answer. Look around at the mess we live in…where is the love? There’s your answer…Love is missing, from virtually everything, and the world we are living in deeply reflects that.

Death has a way of bringing out a lot of love, all at once and very quickly. Being is such a state, everything was kind of a blur…I fumbled through it and I don’t remember a lot of it…I believe I only have what I can handle and the rest comes, if and when it’s needed and only when I am ready to handle it.

I wasn’t ready to handle any of it…and yet, with lots of love, from so many places…we got through it.

I want to take a moment to thank every single person that helped me through the hardest time of my life. Maybe I have thanked you already and maybe I haven’t…I tried to reach everyone, to write thank you notes…to be appreciative…and I know I fell short, because I could not fucking breathe…I didn’t function at all well, so if I missed you, thank you Now…truly…thank you.

Death was very present in our home…a terminal cancer diagnosis, a hospital bed, round the clock and daily nursing and medical staff, in and out…oxygen tanks and chucks…ointments and bed pans and bedside toilets…walkers and lots of laundry…people coming in and out…and a feeling of the end being very, very near…it was a painful and somber and sad and heartbreaking…heart wrenching time for us…and it lasted only a few days. Mom was signed into hospice on Monday night, the hospital bed came Tuesday morning, and my Mom died at 12:06 pm on Thursday…

Nothing in the world prepared me for that moment, and yet, everything in the world, prepared me for that moment…I was holding my Moms hand when she opened her eyes, one last time, squeezed my hand, one last time, and her spirit soared, like I have never witnessed, out of that badly broken body of hers…

The crumbling, crashing, gnashing pain of it all…the mortuary, the viewing, the funeral and the reception…the services and the procession, behind the hearse, that carried my lifeless Mothers body to the cold hole in the ground, which was to be her final trip, in this life…and the graveside Service, where I remember not one word…only pain…lots and lots of soul crushing pain…

I can’t really describe the fog that I have been in, since her brain scan came up on the monitor, all lit up, like a fucking Christmas tree, at the ER. I asked what that was, because I look at X-rays for a living, so I already knew…lesions…can that be anything other than cancer…silence…and I hit the floor…and my world, in that moment, forever changed…

Aren’t we all forever changed by such a moment? A moment, that stands out, above all others…writing this, I was in those moments again….the helplessness and the sadness…the pain and despair…and did I say helplessness? What in the fuck do we do, when we are dealt a hand like that, out of nowhere?

We play some mother fucking cards…that is what we do, when we are dealt a hand like that. Whether we ever played cards before or not, and whether we were ready for another hand…for this hand…we play some fucking cards!

I do not play cards myself…on a few, very drunken instances, I have attempted to play cards…and I fucking suck…I don’t get it…it’s not my thing…whatever, I just never played poker…Momma tried to teach me…friends tried to teach me…I never took to it or learned very well…until my Mom was diagnosed, and I play cards like nobody’s fucking business!

Here is the great news! You too, will play some fucking cards, whether you have ever played cards or not, and whether you are any good or not…you will play, you will learn and you will grow exponentially…because that is what you have to do…you have to learn to master a game that you have never even heard of…you are playing a hand now, that only God himself could have dealt…and only God himself can help you play…

In my experience, my Mom sat next to me, and helped me with my hand…I was never alone, although I felt alone…sitting at a poker table, with no chips and someone else’s cards…my Mom threw in some chips and she helped me get my cards facing the same direction…and that is all I could do, for a very long time…just sit there looking at my cards…no fucking words…and no idea what the chips were for…

Very soon after my Mom died, she came back for a visit and she told me something, that I will share with all of you, because, eventually, it made sense and it changes everything for me…

My Mom said, “Honey, I want you to think of the good things that you can do, now that I am gone…that you wouldn’t or couldn’t do, while I was here. I love you baby girl, you go do you…”

I was so fucking pissed at her! Like…really? You say this to me now? What in the fuck is wrong with you? Fuck! Just fuck! Really, Mom? Really?

My Mother hated my piercings and my tattoos and almost all of my haircuts…and she didn’t hold back, she was pretty fucking clear…she was disgusted by how I chose to look…and now, it’s okay? I was fit to be fucking tied…how dare she give me permission to be me, after she fucking died…

And yesterday, I got it. I mean, I really, really got it…and I blogged about the haircut that I have wanted, all of my life, since I was in 6th grade, and I saw the Madison Mohawk on my school yearbook…

I researched and researched and then I sat quietly for a moment, with my own soul and I knew, I was going to go and do what I always wanted to do…I was going to go and get me that haircut, the haircut, that made me feel happy inside, since the first time I saw it, in sixth grade…and so I did…and I am fucking happy inside…because I finally look like me…The me I saw me as, in the midst of such horrific abuse, a little tiny Mohawk Warrior, named Coral…she came to life yesterday, after forty four years…Welcome home Coral! I fucking love you, you, large as life and tiny as hell, little Mohawk Warrior…

And you…and you…and you…and you…you are all bad ass little Warriors too…and I bet you’ve got a haircut or a pair of jeans…or a tattoo or a shirt or a blouse…or a hair color…or something risqué…that you haven’t worn on you, because of how someone else would feel about it, or maybe because someone would react badly or make fun of you…

Today is your day…one thing…just one thing…that you haven’t done, because of someone else, anyone else…living, not living…from your childhood, from yesterday…

One thing…that makes your skin a little more comfortable, your smile a little brighter…I encourage you to do one thing today, no matter how small…because this step, will be the first, on your journey into yourself…and this is the best step I have taken in so many years…a step towards Coral…welcome home Coral!

I touched on some hard stuff and so I release all of it back to the universe, in love and light and wisdom, for us all…to be recycled and returned for the greatest good of us all…Peace be the journey my friends and love, love, love…always love…

Best news ever yesterday…I am finally turning the corner…

Good morning and Happpy Thursday! I decided to blog early…it seems to work better for me this way…that way I have my writing outlet to help me to start my day…

I made a one year commitment to writing every day in this blog and I am almost at one month…it really feels nice to be honoring such an important commitment to myself.

I have some good news! My therapist says that I finally seem to be turning  a corner! I have been seeing her for years and never heard this from her, so I am pretty stoked!

I thought I had begun to turn a corner, when my Mom was diagnosed…and then everything just blew apart and has stayed this way, for a couple of years…

I thought I was beginning to turn a corner  a few months ago, with the free hug campaign…and everything blew apart again…

This is the first time, that she has said that I am finally making the turn…and she is right…finally, I am.

I don’t know what this turn will look like, or what it will feel like…I’ve no expectations…just lots of faith and prayers for Gods will to be done, and for my ability to accept and deal with, whatever that is…

I have never mastered doing my work around what other people think of me…that it doesn’t matter and that it is none of my fucking business…things have always felt very personal to me, and so, I invite this opportunity, to really, really learn and accept and master this…what you think of me, is none of my business.

I am definitely at a crossroads in my life and I do not wish to ever pass this way again…I have been here, visiting, for my whole life.

I want to say thank you to everyone who has reached out to me, in care and concern…in love…I also want to say that I’m sorry if I’ve not reached back…I just have not been able…

I have been in a very tough place, for the last couple of years. My Moms cancer diagnosis, followed by her death, two months later, blew me and my life and anyone close to me, out of the water…and I could not, for the life of me, catch my breath…

I never realized that the dying part, is only part of the grieving process…death came quickly and did not leave quietly…and this pain, has been the worst of my entire life…the pain of it all…my Moms illness and sudden death, the fallout within family, the realities of things not realized or understood…the helpless and hopeless feelings…and the intense pain and sadness…

I was rendered debilitated, actually fell and hit the floor, upon seeing the MRI of my Moms cancer ridden brain in the ER…totally missed her liver and lung scans, because I couldn’t even fucking breathe, at all…couldn’t see, at all…and everything inside me just fucking broke…in those moments…

Being intuitive is a double edged sword, for me, for sure. In that moment, I already knew…before the diagnosis, before our last family trip to Houston, I already knew. I could. It unknow…

My intuition, in my work, is fucking priceless and thank you. Thank you. Thank you. For my intuition…

I will say that, in my personal affairs, it fucks with me a lot…I feel stuff, as it’s happening…like really feel it…and I hurt, as though I were actually there, witnessing it…and people lie to me, because they truly have no idea, that I already know…like really, already know…

I don’t know how long I have had this ability…I imagine it had been pretty lifelong…I knew the abuse was coming, again and again and again…I knew that my being in love, as deeply as I was, didn’t stop you from being with someone else, while you were with me…I know that you go through the motions, when you see me, and your face doesn’t match what you feel inside, for me…I feel your judgement and I know that you think that I don’t…

And it is a knowing…and so, I will say, that the last two years, being filleted wide fucking open and seared a couple of times…being gifted with being intuitive hurts…I see things and feel things that allow me no room, for the benefit of the doubt…things that cause me to question things that I have always known to be true…

So, turning this corner, is a huge celebration for me…as I can use my gift for others and make a conscious effort to not aim it at myself or my life, right now…I have seen enough…felt enough…learned enough…and cried enough over the pictures painted, by my intuition…at least for right now…

Turning this corner has taken me many years. I have nurtured and developed one of my most important relationships, to date, with my therapist. I have been transparent and blown wide open, and she has truly seen me, for all that I have been, for all that I am…and she has truly taken her oath as a therapist to heart…held me accountable and listened to me fall apart…Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Turning this corner also allows me to take my blinders off…loosen my seatbelt a bit, stretch my legs…and get ready to enjoy this ride…because this is going to be, an amazing fucking ride!!

I am so glad you are here, sharing it with me. I send all of the hurtful and hard stuff, forgiven and loved through, back to the universe, for the greatest good of us all!

I believe in the good things coming!!! I am so thankful for the good things already here…love, love, love…

I don’t want to adult today…

Good morning everyone! I hope your morning started better than mine, on this day…mine started with chest crushing pain, shortness of breath and helplessness…floods of tears and insecurity…

I have a situation in my life right now, that is causing me the most anxiety. I am hurt and feeling helpless…I am losing sleep, I can’t eat and feel like I am coming undone at the seams.

I thought that my Mom dying would be the most painful thing that I would ever endure. In fact, I think I gave myself hope, believing that I would never hurt that way again…and I am not hurting that way…I am hurting in ways I could never have imagined, at the hands of someone that I have hardly ever minced words with, been angry or hurt or sad with…

Never raised voices or angry words…never insensitivity and complete fucking absence…never have I felt any deception or deceit…nor any untruth or false pretense, from this place, until now and that is all I can feel.

Having been diagnosed with Complex PTSD explains a lot about me…who I am, where I have been. I just ordered a book, highly recommended by my therapist.

Actually, I have had ordering this book, on my list of things to do, for a while now. I just paused my writing and went and ordered it just now…I will let you know what I think after I read it…

Complex PTSD, from Surviving to Thriving by Pete Walker

Complex had never been in front of my PTSD diagnosis…and I was scared when I heard that word in front, like it was somehow worse…and somehow, for me, right now, it feels worse…

I am starting to breathe again, to come down a bit…I am allowing myself to realize and accept that I am strong and I am powerful and I have whatever I need inside me, for this conversation. I’ve got this.

And, my girl just called and sang me a little song to cheer me up and to remind me that I am okay and I’ve got this…I am so blessed..

I think, for me, C-PTSD is like being in a hamster wheel..the fucking wheel is spinning out of control and it won’t stop…in fact, it keeps going faster and faster and I can’t get off…I can’t slow it down and I can’t make it stop…and the worst part of it all…I am the one driving!!!!

Fucking insane…and after a lifetime, I finally know what it is and that it is…Now, I am learning more how to feel it coming and how to, at least slow it down…How to not be completely run over by it…and engulfed by it…

I have been in pretty constant prayer and meditation for a couple of days, since I asked for this meeting. I have been praying that I can adult well today, that I can articulate my thoughts and express my feelings…and all from heart center…

I pray for self confidence and self assurance. I pray for my words to be clear and kind and received, as they are intended. I pray for clarity and for humility. I pray that I may be open to hearing and listening, and that I respond in compassion and kindness, in all things.

I pray for our commonality to bring us into common and familiar and comfortable space, so that we may both express our hearts and be heard and validated. I pray for peace. I pray for compassion. I pray for love, always love.

I pray that I will ask for what I need and that it will be provided, without issue, without discomfort and without losing anything…that my voice will be clear and strong and not shaking and trembling…that inside, I won’t be screaming, but rather that I will be calm and assured and steadfast…

I open my heart to be present and compassionate and kind and humble. I allow my highest self to come forward and meet with the highest self of the person I will be sitting across from…that only our highest good, represent itself and be represented at this meeting.

I pray to see you and hear you with the innocence of a child. I pray to feel your heart and your intentions and to react, as a loving and kind and compassionate adult, rather than as a melting down child, in the throws of a colossal break.

I pray for peaceful, for us both, for I have loved you, for all of my life. I have looked up to you and admired you and you have been my hero…I have molded so much of who I have wanted to be, into who you are.

I have always wanted to be like you…to dress like you and walk like you…I have told anyone I have ever loved deeply, how much I love you and admire and respect you…

Being here today…Feeling this way…it would be okay, if it were anyone else that I was meeting today…anyone but you.

Anyone else, I could walk away from and not return…Anyone else I can stand here and know that they will not return, but you…you have always been home…and this is taking a lot more to walk away from…a lot more displacement and confusion and sadness…

My displacement since my Mom got sick has been painful and unsettling…and I have been horrified and devastated through it all. I did the best I could do, in a situation that I could never have prepared for…that there was no guidance for…

I stammered and struggled and crashed and fell and cried and thrashed and wept…and every day, I kept going, the best I could…and every day, I wake up without her…and I jump in my hamster wheel and off we go…fucking insanity…every fucking day, for almost two years…

The thing is, I want something more. I want something real and true and honest…whatever it is, just let it be fucking real and true and honest.

Anyone who knows me well, knows my struggle and little pieces of my story. Many of you are in the pages, the chapters of my life’s book…and I am so thankful for every single person and every experience that has graced my pages with your very presence…thank you…truly, thank you for sharing this crazy ride with me…

If you are still here…if you just got here…let’s put on our fucking seatbelts…because this ride is just beginning! Keep your arms inside the cabin and buckle up…we are off to amazing places, beautiful scenery and a new awareness…

As for me, on this ride, unlike rides I have been on in the past…I am keeping my eyes opened and my arms waving high above my head, as we go down the steepest and scariest part of this ride.

I am going to scream my fucking head off all the way down, watching the whole way, as my stomach drops at the decent…and I let go of any expectation, as I let go of any fear…as I toss my insecurities out the side of the car, along with any inadequacies and feelings of not being good enough…

As my heart rate increases and we climb the tallest and slowest track, coming ever so slowly over the threshold, before the rapid descent and the release that comes in mid-fall…I say another prayer…the prayer of all prayers…God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference…

I take a moment now to release all that does not serve my highest good…to recycle all things not needed and not for my highest good, back into the universe, to be repurposed and returned for the greatest and highest good of us all…

Celebrating Martin Luther King Jr…

“One has not only a legal but a moral responsibility to obey just laws. Conversely, one has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust laws.”

Just laws…”a moral responsibility to obey just laws….” this says a lot to me…we know what is just and what is not…what is right and what is wrong…we know these things…

We live in a world full of supposed to…of shoulds and should nots…and we follow blindly, without questioning what we don’t believe in…

We witness injustice…we witness atrocities…we engage in complacency and we accept substandard…

I see injustice daily…just yesterday, a Mom and Dad, layering their two small children with clothes, as they stole them and pulled the tags off…right in the middle of menswear…layer after layer, stealing and putting the merchandise on their kids, up their sleeves…under their kids in the cart, of soon to be, stolen merchandise….

I don’t know why, but at first, I was in disbelief. Tamara went to go and get an associate…I just stood there and watched the shit show, and then we went over…right in the middle of them, and they didn’t miss a beat, didn’t stop or try to hide what they were doing…kept layering those poor kids with stolen shit…

I was angry…Tamara and the other bystanders were angry, as we all made our way to the register, to pay for our shit, which has a higher price tag now, because of people like this, doing things like this…entitled to take whatever they want…you bet your ass I was pissed…

I was not nearly as pissed or angry, as I was sad, for those poor children. I worked in retail, for a few years and did some undercover loss prevention…and I followed a lady out of the store, about 400 pounds, kid in the cart…she walked through the exit door, I grabbed the cart and played tug of war with her, all the way back in the store…I finally pulled hard enough and pulled she and the cart back across the threshold…at which point, APD apprehended her…took her to the back…child in tow…it was a horrible thing to witness and be part of…

This woman, only came back into the store, because I dragged her, kicking and screaming, by her cart, because her kid was in it…screaming obscenities and yelling horrible threats to me…and it was only then, that she was in fact shoplifting…because she left the store…

We took her to the back and I was the female present, as they began to unlayer this woman…that 400 pounds, was stolen merchandise…in actuality, she weighed about 110 pounds…the other “weight” was about $1200-$1500 of stolen merchandise.

These are parents, using their children, as fucking decoys, diversions…distractions…while their parents teach them how to take what is not theirs…fucking sad…heartbreaking…

Shoplifters are not shoplifting until they leave the store…not even if they are taking off tags and layering themselves and their children, with brand new merchandise, all the way through the store…no one can do anything to them, until they leave…which is what the associate told Tamara…there is nothing we can do…

Unjust? I think so…Tamara thought so…and we said something, to them, to the associate, to the manager…we must not be silent and complacent…

These people knew exactly what they were doing and this was not their first rodeo of wrangling whatever they wanted and having their small children carry it for them…and how sad, we thought, for the children…

And this quote, and this experience, brought me to this amazing quote, that I have always loved…

“If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted,or Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well.”

We are all here, on this journey together, walking each other home…and we all have work to do…

Your work is different from my work, and my work, so very different from yours…and no matter what that work is, shouldn’t we always strive, to do our work, the best we can?

I work on the animals I am entrusted with, just as I work on our animals…with all of my heart…I love them as I love our animals and I want, for them, the same that I want for all of ours…quality of life, safety, good health and happiness…contentment and warmth and food and water and shelter…

I have been doing this kind of work since 2008…when I turned in my bar keys, my late nights and dangerous and depressing career…and decided to work in healing…I went to massage school…just like that, I changed my career path…

And just like that, again, a few years later, I changed from healing work on human clients, to healing work on animals. I took my seat on the dog beds and floors of clients homes everywhere…under dining room tables and baby grand pianos…to do my work, with all of my heart…

Unfortunately, in this process, I have struggled with valuing myself. I have done as much, if not more, pro bono, volunteer and comp work…work at discounted rates…than I have been paid for…

I would love to do what I do, every day, all the time…without having to charge for it…and I have tried, so hard, to make my rates reasonable, my work speak for itself…to Be Beethoven and Michelangelo in my work, to create masterpieces…to facilitate amazing healing…to be a vessel for God to work through, to provide healing, for everyone, whether you can afford me of not…

Here is what I have found…people afford what they want to afford…they pay for what they have to pay for…clients go to the vet, and get billed, usually fairly astronomically, and they pay it, and then they cannot pay me…and I have accepted that, for years…until now…

This quote, this day…this great man, Martin Luther King Jr…he has a dream…I have a dream too…

I have a dream that we live in a world of love…of compassion and respect…of fairness and justness…that we all do all we can, always, to lighten each other’s load…that each one of us will be love…and do what is right, even when no one is looking…whatever you do, do it with all of your heart…and if it’s your work…charge appropriately for your work, that you may feel good about who you are and what you do in this world…

This has been my most difficult obstacle, since I realized my gift…charging for it and charging appropriately, and always getting paid, on time….my full rate…without having to ask for it…I have struggled so much with this, that I just let it go and assume that whomever it is, must need the money more than me…and I let it go…only I guess I haven’t let it go, because here I am, blogging about it…

Anyway, that is my work…to value myself, charge accordingly…and to say no when my gut tells me to say no…

I am on a mission, in this new year, to do my work, with all of my heart…and to bill for my work, with all of my heart…I want to feel as good about doing my work as my clients feel after having my work done and for me, that means getting paid…accepting gratuity…and saying no, so that I can say yes, to people who value me, in the whole spectrum of my work, which includes my quality of life…and my quality of life relies heavily upon me being able to pay my own bills…

So, thank you Martin Luther King Jr…for the quotes, which inspired my words..which I am sending out to the universe, with all of my love…

I send this writing, and all of its content, back to the universe, to be used where it is needed and to be recycled, where it is not needed, for the highest good of us all…

Happy Birthday Martin Luther King Jr…thank you for your amazing words, your compassion, your inspiration and your amazing vision…for your love and your ability to speak where we can hear you…thank you!

 

 

“Teach me one of them harder lessons…”

Today proved to be a bit challenging for me…as I battled some old demons, The problem with some of my old demons, is that they don’t really feel old at all…they feel very here and now…

I am finding new and different ways to cope…and some days, this is all very exhausting…for me and everyone around me, I imagine…for my Service Dog, Taos, and my partner, Tamara, in particular…

Feeling overwhelmed by so much loss and emotion…and seeing how this impacts the way I move in the world…feeling debilitated…and staying in motion…such a fucking dichotomy at times…

It occurred to me today that fear has perpetuated a lot of things in my life, that I do not wish to have in my life…at least, not in such large doses…Fear has perpetuated ego…Fear has opened the very gates of hell and unleashed its fury…

Ego…such an unnecessary place to be…so taught and so learned and passed down, generation after generation…Ego and fear…Fear and Ego…an ugly fucking mix for sure…

Driving home after clients today, jamming out to Nahko, with my Service dog in the back…doing some meditating and musical healing…I end up at a light, right next to someone who meant a great deal to me at one time…and I had a moment of fear…a moment of ego…

I do not drive the same car and I have a very dark window tint to prevent being seen and yet, somehow, I was sure she saw me…and I was afraid she saw me…she did not have kind words for me at all, the last time we had any contact…so I went places in my head, and I felt sad…for a moment, for no reason…because I allowed myself to believe, for a brief moment, that it fucking mattered either way…if she saw me…if she didn’t see me…

The very worst part of all of this…I do this to myself. I write a shitty fucking story…why?

What would a good story sound like? What would a good story feel like? I don’t know…I mean, as life would have it, I have been in pretty constant fear…for my whole life…and I’ve known nothing else, until very recently…except for writing fear-based stories, about people leaving and choosing someone else…stories with bad endings and painful chapters…with characters who have also been writing fear-based stories…

I think in writing my own stories now…I really just want love…love for everyone in my story…and love for me, in my story…so odd…that sounds like a lot to ask and not so much to want…Just for love…for everyone whose life has touched mine, in any way…just love…

Anyway…those were some of my thoughts and feelings today…and I’ve had these thoughts and feelings before…I don’t know how I occurred in so many situations.

I think, I thought, I was Love…I know that I have always wanted to be love…to be loved…really loved, like the skin horse in The Velveteen Rabbit…like our friends kid, loved out loud, all the time…fucking awesome love, like that…

I want my story to have the kind of love that says…hey, you are home. I want my story to have the kind of love that says that I fucked up, and you still, truly, love me just the same. I want unconditional in my story, where love is always unconditional. I want forgiveness, true and heartfelt forgiveness, for me, and for you…I want all of these things for you…for all of you…I believe in the good things coming and I am so blessed by the good things already here!

My story has lacked the forgiveness of myself, for not knowing what I didn’t know, until I knew it…for human error and bad decisions…for angry words and ultimatums…for insecurities and poor judgement…for straight the fuck up, fucking up…

Some rambling thoughts for sure…bumbling around in my mind and finding their way out my fingertips…touching on my heart strings and allowing me some amazing space in gratitude tonight…

I am not perfect and I am better than I was yesterday…tomorrow, I will be better than I was today…

Feeling gratitude for Taos today, as we walked through some really, really hard and scary stuff together…I do not have words for how much I love Taos. I know that she has been given a heavy load, being the Service Dog of such a hot fucking mess as myself…and I am fucking blessed to be so loved and so forgiven and so looked after…thank you Baby Taos…I love you my little buddy…

And for todays hard fucking lessons…thank you. I already feel the blessings in the ability to feel the release that is coming in mid-fall…and I stopped for hugs on my way home…how beautiful it is to be able to get hugs, real and heart pumping, love transferring hugs…anytime I need them…yep, this girl is flawed as fuck and blessed beyond measure…

I hope you are all writing some amazing stories, with some amazing love, in overflowing doses…so blessed…so very, very blessed…