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.

A message from Teddy this morning…

Happy Saturday everyone! Welcome home! Thank you for all of the love for Teddy. My life is better for the years I spent walking next to him. What a beautiful soul. What a gentleman. What a friend. What a loss for my heart this morning as I head out to see Teddy’s family, without Teddy this morning. These moments in my work remind me why I do what I do in this world. I have been gifted, blessed and loved and I’m going to share my gifts as much and as often as I can. The break in my heart where Teddy exited is the light that I enter into this morning.

On my way to work on Thursday morning, I hit a squirrel. The squirrels name was Peter. I locked down on my brakes and I swerved, to no avail, as my tires ended Peters life. I was destroyed. I was wailing in agony. I had to hit Peter again, as I did not want him to suffer. The pain in my heart as my tires rolled over Peter again. I was crushed and destroyed inside. The agony of taking a life consumed me and I wept. God, did I weep. Peter came to me and told me that he had run in front of me on purpose…that fifteen years here was quite enough. Peter told me that he saw me swerve and miss him many times before, in our truck and in our Jeep. Peter killed himself on Thursday, under the weight of my FJ. Peters life ended at my hands and I cried. I drove home and Tamara came to me. I collapsed in my carport and I wept. I sobbed. I hurt so badly for wha I had done. Peter was 15. I was late to my client, as I tried to compose myself. I made it to my client and so saw Teddy. My heart shattered again.

Teddy was to join his friend Peter. Peter left just before Teddy to prepare a place for him. Teddy held on for as long as his body would let him…all for the love of WC, his beautiful father. Teddy’s love for WC is unmatched. When Teddy knew that WC was going to be okay…when he knew that his Dad was home and safe and well…he was able to shed his broken body. Teddy waited for his Dad and then Peter waited for Teddy. Peter and Teddy are with me now and they send all of their love to us

Teddy day this to us this morning…I got here swiftly. I was accompanied by my traveling companion Peter. Peter shared my dog bed in a stuffed squirrel body, so that I could find him when I left here. I am a sight hound with bad sight and so Peter came with me to show the way. I see perfection now. I am perfection now. A gentleman and a scholar, I lived my life in greatness. I bit a child once and I never was quite okay again. I felt bad. I don’t feel bad anymore, as I now know it was the way of things. My mom is love and I learned a great deal by watching her love and move in the world. Coral, Hannah and Gypsy day hello and please tell Alice I’m still there, so don’t mess with me! And Penny, be nice to my sister. Only I boss her. And Dad…you’re doing great. I’m your angel now…your guardian Teddy dog, at your service. I know that you don’t like to pray, so I talked to God and he said it’s fine with him if you prefer to say, Dear Teddy…I will always give him your messages and his to you. I’ve gotta go or Coral will be late to work on my brother and sister.

Have a beautiful day everyone! I love you. Thank you Peter and Teddy for coming to see us this morning!

Sherry Lesson about dreaming the dream. Coral And Tamara lesson about living the dream.

Good morning everyone! My post is inspired by a conversation… probably a number of conversations, with Tamara, about building the dream. I know a lot of people talk about building the dream. We have a friend who lives to save animals…a beautiful and devoted and true and wonderful soul…and she has a quote that we use often (I may be paraphrasing a bit)…”You don’t have to win the lottery to save animals. You just have to save animals.” Thank you for this, our beautiful friend. I pull this out of my toolbox all the time! This speaks to us on a soul level, as it encompasses the work we do here at Santuario de Karuna. We save animals. We are too busy living the dream to play the lotto. The odds of winning the lottery…in other words…the odds of you ever living your dream, if you are waiting to win the lottery, are extremely low. You know that though, right? You know that you give yourself next to zero chance of living your dream if you rely upon living the lottery to do so. My mom and Dad religiously bought lottery tickets, as long as they have been able to in New Mexico. I am not kidding, twice a week, as long as they could, for as long as I’ve known, with their “lucky” numbers, they played the lottery. No matter the payout, they had it pen to paper, spent their lottery winnings. Taking care of family, traveling…a place to live here and a place to vacation there…clothes and jewelry and cars….and that is how they dreamed their dream. At the casino, in Las Vegas…the same thing…the odds were low and they just knew if they kept playing, they would be the next winner, and then they could live their dreams. After they retired, they could then live their dreams. My mom was admitted by ambulance to the ER the night before she was to retire, from a job she hated for over 20 years, with stroke symptoms, unable to get off of the floor. My mom did not have a stroke. My mom had stage four breast cancer, with metastasis to her liver, her lungs and her brain. My mom died two months later. My mom never won the lottery. My mom never won a jackpot big enough to fund her lottery tickets or her gambling, let alone her dream. My mom never spent one single solitary moment in retirement. I venture to guess that my mother never spent one single solitary moment. My mom died at 66 years old dreaming about a dream that she was doing nothing to build. My moms dreams were so far out there that she only ever dreamed what it might be like, to actually live her dream. How many of us are doing that right now? Truth. How many of you are living like this right now? Working in a job or a career that you fucking despise, waiting to retire and live your life…trying to win the lottery to solve your life’s problems…and missing your life all together…what kind of dream is that? Any one of these things may be a sign that YOU ARE DREAMING a lot MORE than you are LIVING the dream. My mom didn’t have any idea that she was doing this. This is a Sherry Lesson by the way…Sherry sent this to you, through me, this morning. Sherry missed this lesson and she wanted to gift you with it, especially those of you who know exactly what I’m talking about. If you knew Sherry at all, you knew these things about her. My mom openly said that she went to the casino to escape her life. I never knew what that meant or what she was escaping exactly. Hell, I went with her to escape my own sometimes. I went with my parents to Vegas yearly and I loved our trips. I even played for hours and hours, trying to win and solve my financial woes (by dumping my limited funds into a slot machine…go figure) and I really thought they If I put enough money in, eventually, I would hit the big one. I did not and my mom did not and my dad did not hit the big one. These things were not healthy. Sherry walked around like she had it handled and like this behavior was not at all what it was…gambling is gambling my friends. Sherry gambled a lot, not just at the casino in Las Vegas. Sherry gambled with her whole fucking life…waiting to live the dream, dreaming about it, instead of getting out there and living her dream. This is not to say that Sherry did not live her life. This is simply to illustrate that dreaming is not living the dream. Sherry spent her lifetime waiting to live until she retired and dreaming of living the dream when she finally did. May God rest her sweet soul, and may she finally Rest In Peace…now that she can be free to live her dream, wherever she may be!

We all have choices. I am learning a lot about myself through these Sherry Lessons. I hope that you are learning a lot too. Sherry sends them to make us better, and because she loves to hi jack my blog also! Thank you for the visit and the beautiful Lesson this morning mom. I love you.

So…as I was, before I was so gracefully interrupted…go out and LIVE your dream

Did you know that President Barack Obama was awarded the 2009 Nobel Peace Prize for his “extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation between people.”? Wayne Dyer said that having the dream was enough to win the Nobel Peace Prize, because it all starts with the dream. You don’t have anything if you don’t first have the dream. It all begins with a dream. Santuario de Karuna began with a childhood dream…Tamara’s childhood dream. Dreams are US in action. We must act, for our dreams to come true. We must be hungry for our dreams. And…we will get dirty and messy and busy. We will be in constant action. Living the dream is like loving…it’s a verb my friends.

Waiting to live your dream for the lottery or retirement or until you have the money…will never, ever manifest the actual dream. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr….President Barack Obama…Tamara….they had a dream! What is your dream my friend? What is your dream?

Have a beautiful day everyone! Go love and live your dream like a verb!!! I love you!

My name is Coral and I am five years vegan tomorrow!

I am sitting here in the studio with Nahko on Shawn’s Birthday, and I was remembering that the last time I ate my friends. Tomorrow is my five year veganversary! It was March 9th 2014 and My mom made my brothers favorite meal…my mom made her famous enchiladas. My last non-vegan meal was my moms ground beef enchiladas, smothered in cheese. My brothers birthday meal was my very last non-vegan meal. Five years ago something shifted for me and I want to write about that this afternoon. I didn’t stop eating animals because I didn’t fancy the taste of those enchiladas. If you ever had my moms enchiladas, you know what I am saying. They were the best enchiladas I have EVER eaten! And her birthday cakes…I didn’t stop eating those because I didn’t like how they tasted. I have to tell you that I stopped eating animals because I finally realized that I was eating animals.

My name is Coral and I am vegan. This is my story and I hope it teaches you a thing or two, as my life has taught me, a thing or two. I was so fucking disassociated that I truthfully had not made the connection, that I was eating a once living, breathing sentient being. Ground beef enchiladas did not equal our beautiful cows, Karuna or Ahimsa to me. We didn’t have Karuna or Ahimsa back then. Chicken fajitas weren’t Piñon. Lisa and Janet and Negro weren’t chicken tacos. Bacon wasn’t Sidney. The pork chops that I ate were not named Jenny Sue or Brixen. Namaste wasn’t a slab of ham on my plate and I wasn’t eating the ovulation of Lisa and calling it my breakfast. I wasn’t waiting to slaughter Samuel and Duncan for Thanksgiving dinner. I wasn’t stroking my lucky rabbits foot and making a wish. I wasn’t eating goat cheese on my crackers. I hadn’t made the correlation that all lives matter. I didn’t get that the lives of the sentient beings on my plate mattered at all. I thought they came here for me. I was so fucking ignorant that I believed that these beings came here for my gratification…to satisfy my tastes and my hunger. Five years ago I did not know that my food was actually the Caracas of my dead friends. I was eating dead flesh. I was drinking the bodily secretions meant for baby cows. I was eating the period of a fucking chicken for breakfast every day, with a side of crispy Tombstone. I was fucking asleep! And the worst part was that I had absolutely no idea that I was asleep. Only a couple of months sober from alcohol, I was definitely a hot fucking mess back then. I was so asleep and tuned out that I was about to be on an adventure like no other. I was beginning the journey of waking up…becoming conscious and aware and concerned. I had no fucking idea then…I was about to be transformed! I had no idea that I was so asleep. I could not have known how disconnected I truly was.

Five years later and I will tell you this, I will never not be vegan. I will never eat my friends again. I will never not know what I have come to know. I have come to know that their lives matter. Every single one of their lives matter. There are more carcinogens in the food that many of you eat than there are in the cigarettes that some of you smoke. Did you know that? Cigarettes have warning labels. The 40 pounds of raw chicken that you just bought is going to kill you quicker than the cigarettes are going to kill the Marlboro man next door, peering at you over his oxygen tank. Don’t believe me? Do your research. And now that we are outsourcing our food supply, so you really think what you are eating is safe? The disconnect is real. That 40 pound tray of chicken that you just bought…those chickens were someone. They were someone. All hacked up on a slab of styrofoam and shrink wrapped, slapped with a price per pound sticker and thrown in your cart. We are so disconnected.

We are raising children. We are teaching classes. We are in leadership roles and in animal rescue. We stand in pulpits and we preach peace. How can we rescue dogs and cats and eat cows, pigs and chickens? Your fucking bologna did have a first name. How do we preach peace when we eat the slaughtered remains of sentient beings? We are disconnected my friends. We are so disconnected.

Five years ago, I began to connect the dots. I began to question things that seemed wrong to me. I began to give a shit about someone other than myself. I set down my carne adovada burrito and I ate my last poached egg. I stopped buying leather and I made different choices. I started to give a shit and I mean really give a shit about other beings on this planet. Five years ago I stopped eating animals because I came to know that they are not mine to eat or to wear or to exploit.

As my brothers birthday lunch came to a close five years ago, I could never have foreseen how drastically our lives would shift. I could not have known that I would never eat another animal again. I could not have known that my mom would get cancer in a few months and die. I could not have known that our dining room would occupy another family that they wouldn’t welcome us. We don’t sit at that table as a family anymore. We are not a family anymore. I could not have known that I would be giving up some things and others would be taken from me. I gave up eating my friends. I lost my mom to cancer and my dad to someone and someplace far, far away from me. As I cleared those dirty dishes and washed the carcass of my friends into the trash, one last time…I could not possibly have known how my life was about to change. As I kissed my mom goodbye and hugged my dad under the garage door…as I hugged Shawn and JiSan “goodbye” and I drove away on that day…I could not have known all that would come to be of my life. We never truly do know what life has in store for us. We do run out of time. We do. People feel better somehow if we don’t run out of time…and so they say that we don’t. I am here to tell you that we actually do run out of time. So, make it count. Your time…your decisions…make them count. Be mindful of what you put into your body. If it shits, don’t eat it. Truly. For me, that was an easy gauge. I hope the simplicity of this helps you also, because it is that simple. If it has a face and it shits, it’s not yours to eat.

I am blessed to have learned that animals have just as much right to be here as I do. I am grateful to live in Sanctuary with so many beautiful and sentient beings. You may be astounded to know that I can eat whatever you eat and I can eat it vegan. If it’s not vegan, I won’t eat it at all.

My depression fucks with me a lot lately. I am struggling to stay afloat. Being vegan beings me some peace, as I know I have changed the world for some of them. I will spend the rest of my life fighting for the rest of them. For you see, we are all someone, not something. We each have every right to be here. If my depression takes me, at least it wasn’t someone else deciding that I was food, not friend. Truly, when did we decide that we got to decide for everyone, how things are? We have dominion over…we do not have control or reign or power over those without voices. Who told us that we had the right to crucify species after species after species for our own consumption and convenience? We did. We decided that we have no rules and they have no economic value…so fuck it…we decide. Look at us, deciding and shit. Egotistical, ignorant, insensitive and greedy as fuck…is the mentality that my appetite is more important than your life, isn’t it? I mean truly…that is some entitled and ignorant and ass backwards thinking and we are wrong. Plain and simple. We are wrong to slaughter millions of sentient beings for our own gratification…for sport…for our hunger and our taste in clothing and furniture. We cannot make this right…we just can’t. Excuses abound and generations pile, one on top of the other…doing it the way we have always fucking done it. Let me ask you something…How is the way we’ve always done it actually working for us? How is this entitlement and this superiority working out for us and our human counterparts? All you have to do is look around you to see that this isn’t working at all.

You will never catch me competing with you. Every single day though, you will see me fight like hell to be better than I was yesterday. From whom much is given, much is expected. I owe a great debt to the powers that be for my existence here, for my place and my peace and my work here. The debt can only ever be payed forward and it cannot ever be paid with the life of someone else. We each get what we get when we get it. Five years ago, I got it and I am forever changed. Go vegan. Truly…for yourself, for your health, for the planet…for each other…for your kids. I was pretty ignorant and naive…fuck, I still am…I would like to think that I have made a difference though, for someone, by being here.

Living a compassionate lifestyle includes more than eating a vegan diet, just as being sober means more than abstaining from drinking alcohol. When we change the way we look at things, the things we look at change. Friends, not food. Five years not eating my friends has softened my heart and I am so thankful. Five years of learning about the sentient beings in my life and cohabiting them…I cannot imagine how I was ever so thoughtless and reckless and careless. Being more connected now, I shudder at my own disconnect, for I knew not then what I have come to know now.

My life is blessed. I am blessed. I hurt, a lot. Depression keeps me struggling, until it doesn’t. I miss my mom. I miss my dad. Sometimes, I wish I were riding my bike around the block with my little brother, for hours and days on end…going everywhere and nowhere at all. Some days I really do miss my little family so, so much that it throws me into the abyss that swallows me for days. Depression seems to be the one thing I can’t just fucking quit…and every single day, until the day I don’t, I will battle it out. Being vegan has given me a lot of someone’s to fight for and so as best as I can, I stay. As much as I am able, when the calls come and I am needed, I answer. Getting out of me is the only thing that seems to save me at all, in times where I can’t get myself out of the abyss.

Five years ago, I started speaking for them and fighting for them and loving them like a verb. With the love and compassion and guidance of the most amazing vegan I know, I have learned so much. Thank you Tamara for loving me into compassionate space and for helping me to make more compassionate choices. Five years ago my life changed forever. My name is Coral and I am five years vegan tomorrow! For your soul, I encourage you to think about being vegan too. You will not know why you waited so long to assume a lifestyle that does not harm others. Your body will look and feel better. Your heart will open up. You will be better able to look in the mirror…I mean to really look in the mirror. Best of all, no one gets hurt for your appetite. Anyway, that’s all I’ve got today on being vegan. Inspired by my five year veganversary tomorrow…A post for us all to wake up and soften our hearts. Don’t trust me. Go out and try it for yourself! I love you! Have a beautiful day!

Thank you for your service Little Red! I love you!

Good morning everyone! I am happy to announce that we sold Little Red on Sunday! It was bittersweet driving her to her new home in Santa Fe. Every other trip to Santa Fe, Little Red has accompanied me home. For many years Little Red has been my brave companion of the road! We traveled many miles together and took many trips together. If loving Little Red is wrong, I don’t want to be right! I am so grateful for the gift my little Brother gave me all of those years ago, when I lost everything I had except for my house. Shawn signed her title over to me and made her mine. Sunday I signed her title over and made her new owner very happy, when I made Little Red hers. New to me vehicles are the best…all nicely broken in and personalized…and all yours to discover! Enjoy getting to know Little Red and thank you for loving the animals so, so much! It may sound ridiculous, and so I’ll say it loudly and with all of my heart, I’m really glad that Little Red got a good home! I want Little Red to have the best rest of her life too! Thank you for your service Little Red! I love you my dear old friend!

I am making a personal donation to the fundraiser that Chris set up for a new Sanctuary truck for the animals here at Santuario de Karuna. Little Red sold for $3000 and I am donating $3010.00. I am doing this for a very specific and simple reason, and it is this; All gave some and some gave all. Little Red was all I own outright in this world, and I struggled to let her go. I need to pay off FJ (that’s her new name by the way…FJ), and so I listed Little Red on Craigslist for half of what I owe on FJ. I sold her for $3000 and held her for three weeks for the guy who wanted her so much. I got a call the night before I was to sell her and he could no longer buy her. At first, my heart sank. I am pretty attached to FJ you see, and I’m letting go of Little Red too. I was in the midst of losing any security I felt that I had. I really wanted to use that money towards getting the title to FJ. As often happens to me, my best laid plans are derailed. I was driving home and as clearly as anything ever, I knew that Little Red did not belong to me. Little Red was gifted to me and many people helped me to care for and maintain her while I had her. To Shawn and everyone when helped me to maintain her, thank you so much! My Mom and Dad put a lot into her too and so letting her go feels like letting go of a piece of both of them, which is probably the true reason I had such a hard time letting her go. Having lost them, letting her go felt like losing them all over again, in a way. Thank you Mom and Dad and Shawn and countless others who journeyed with Little Red and I. Truly, I needed you and you came through. Thank you. I have been so blessed…so, so blessed. To whom much is given, much is expected, as Tamara always reminds me. So it is with great pleasure and with all of my heart that I donate all of the proceeds from Little Red and one of the last dollars in my bank account, to get a new truck for the Sanctuary. My first ever large donation of $3010.00 to Santuario de Karuna, to go toward the purchase of a new truck for my very dearest friends here at the Sanctuary! I even had to call my bank and have a supervisor override my spending limits! Who knew?!

On behalf of my little Brother Shawn and myself, we donate the proceeds from the truck that became not only my transportation, but also the Sanctuary truck for as long as she could keep up. When I had no way to get to and from work, Shawn gave his truck to me…free and clear and without strings. I pay it forward now for the beautiful beings that I share my beautiful life with, here at Santuario de Karuna. Thank you Shawn and Little Red for bringing color and beauty to my world. Thank you for teaching me what it means to be gifted, and for allowing me the feeling of gifting her forward.

To everyone who has donated so far, thank you, from the bottom of our hearts! We love you! Please keep sharing and donating to help us to reach our goal. It would mean the world to me if you could help us to get the animals their truck! Thank you! I love you! Have a beautiful day!

Check us out on Facebook at Santuario de Karuna and donate there! You are welcome to come out and meet the animals, schedule a tour, become a monthly donor, become a volunteer. We would love to have you be a part of our compassionate community!

Each of us has a choice every day. Moments present themselves and we are called to act. I was gifted an opportunity to see firsthand that from whom much is given, much is expected. Tamara has said this to me many times and I get it now. Thank you baby. So, so many lessons and so, so many blessings for my girl and I lately.

Godspeed Little Red! Thank you for the hundreds of thousands of miles that you traveled with me! Thank you for getting me to and fro and for keeping me safe and warm for all of these years! Thank you to a very generous and beautiful friend of the Sanctuary, who purchased Little Red, to help the animals of Santuario de Karuna!

Have a beautiful day everyone! Be the change you wish to see in the world! I dare you!

A Sherry lesson on “Some gave all” this morning.

Happy Sunday everyone! This morning we are blessed with a “Sherry Lesson” that came to me driving home yesterday. I had an amazing day yesterday with beautiful friends and on my way home, as I prayed, my Mom came through so clearly that I had to share with each of you, this life lesson from my beautiful mom! Welcome to the healing room! I hope you have your coffee and Kleenex in hand, as Sherry nailed it this morning!

For me, as you know, the struggle has been real. As of recent, my father and I are estranged except for snail mail correspondence. The man I love more than any other, and myself have turned our situation over to God, as we simply cannot handle it on our own. We cannot speak civilly to one another right now. Angry and betrayed and hurt enough…I almost hit my own father. I have no clearer sign that I must walk away to save us both right now. We cannot share our lives and so we have gone our separate ways, only bound by the love in our hearts for one another. I pray that love is enough. I pray that no matter who or what or where I go…no matter what does or does not happen, with all of my heart, I pray that my Daddy always knows my love for him; for nothing will ever change my love for you my father. Nothing can ever take from me the love I have in my heart for you, not even you. I love you. I miss you. I turn it over to God, and I ask for prayers and blessings for our broken little family. This is the first time in my life, ever, that I have strayed from my father. This is the first time ever that I have had courage enough to stand up for what is right and then to stand down and be done fighting what I cannot understand or control. And so I set it down. I let go and I let God.

As many of you know, my Mom was a force to be reckoned with. A powerhouse of a woman in a tiny little package…a southern twang in her voice that wasn’t actually southern at all, always made her presence known. Accompanied by the clickety click of her 👠 high heels, Yes, Sherry was a force all her own. So yesterday while driving home, when she clicked her way in, I prepared a place. This is the most valuable Sherry Lesson you will ever get, so go fill up that coffee cup and let’s get ready!

My parents have been such a huge part of my lives, all of my lives. My best friends and my confidants, to an unhealthy point, rendering me extremely co-dependent and financially dependent upon throughout my life. I won’t go into detail as it matters not, I only say anything because Sherry wants us all to learn from this. I could always make that call and get myself bailed out. I could always get some help if the fruits of my labor didn’t cut it. I always had my mom and dad. I do not have my mom and dad anymore and I am thankful, for it is teaching me to rely on me, to trust and to know me. The silver spoon being yanked out of my mouth busted a few teeth and left me breathless and hurting beyond my own comprehension, and I am thankful for I now now my own strength.

With that being said, all that I own in this entire world, outright, is Little Red, my 1996 Toyota T-100 truck. When my ex-wife left me in 2008 and took, literally everything I own, I ended up having to voluntarily repossess my brand new and beautiful black FJ Cruiser back to the credit union. I drove her to the credit union and I told them I was so sorry and I handed them the keys. I was without transport and I was broken. My little brother saw me and he gifted me the truck he bought to haul his motorcycles on, so that I would have a car to drive. Shawn signed the title over and said I owed him nothing. I have driven little red for the past eleven years. Little Red is a piece of my own heart, a gift from my baby brother, so that I didn’t lose everything else too. Thank you Shawn for seeing me and for loving me like a verb. I love you baby brother.

Before my mom died, on her death bed actually, she said she wanted me to have a brand new Jeep! A bit much I thought and I said so. After my mom died, my dad and I were looking at vehicles for me and we ended up finding the exact same one, the beautiful 2007 FJ Cruiser that I am driving now. We went and drove her and then we went right to the credit union, looking homeless as hell, both of us, and got her financed. That story is one of my fondest memories and Sherry was so happy the day I drove her home! My FJ is still financed and I own just under $6000 on her. I had Little Red sold on Friday for $3000. I was elated, as that put me halfway to paying her off. Thursday night I got a text from the guy I held Little Red for, for three weeks, that he could no longer buy her. Long story short, Little Red and my FJ are both here and neither one of them, nor Tamara’s Jeep are enough for what Santuario de Karuna needs. We have 42 animals here, several of them weighing in over 1500 pounds. Little Red, not Big Red, cannot handle the loads that we must haul to give everyone what they need. We need more and I was praying in this yesterday, when Sherry came through loud and clear.

Sherry simply said that “some gave all. All gave some and some gave all” she repeated to me. I was puzzled at first, I won’t lie. My dilemma, the one warping my fucking mind…the one I’m twisting and trying so desperately to make fit…she says simply, “it is what it is.” What in the literal fuck? I’m praying here! If you’ve no contribution, could you come back later? I need to figure out how to sell Little Red and pay of this FJ…..and she says, “You do not need to sell your truck Coral Dawn. You know what you need to do with Little Red.” Only I didn’t know and she didn’t tell me before she left again. What in the fuck?

As I drove closer to home, I remembered laying next to her on her death bed. I could not have known it then, that I would never hear the click of those heels 👠 or that twang in her voice again. I would never have her to help me to sort it out or pay it off again. I lost both of my lifelines and my own life that day, on that bed with her, before she left here for good. We had to make her funeral arrangements on that bed. We had to decide how to let her go because she was going and nothing stopped that. In lieu of flowers, my mom chose Santuario de Karuna, for all donations. My mom loved flowers as much as anyone I ever knew and she gave up her final bouquets on this earth for the animals here at Santuario de Karuna, so we could keep our promise to make the rest of their lives the best of their lives. On my moms deathbed, she saw me. My mom saw Tamara and I and our dream and on her way out, she did all she could to make this dream come true! Sherry gave it all. Every single last bit of it, to Santuario de Karuna, as she left this world. All she had left to offer is right here in this space that we all call home.

Today, in true Sherry fashion, I give all I’ve got to Santuario de Karuna too. Literally, the only thing I actually own, Little Red, I gift to our Sanctuary and to the animals here, to get them what they need. “Some gave all Coral Dawn. All gave some and some gave all. Follow your heart and do what you know to be right with your soul.”

Anyone who knows me at all knows that if all are giving some and only some are giving all, I am going to figure out how to be one of the ones who gives it all! So today, on behalf of my little brother Shawn and myself, I gift my precious Little Red to the fundraiser, so that we can purchase a truck big enough to care for everyone here. Whatever we make from the sale of Little Red will go directly into the fundraiser that our dear brother Chris put up for us. And so it is. Sherry reminds us that it is what it is. It will only ever, always be what it is. I don’t know what your “Some” is, or your “all”. I only came to tell you that by giving all I’ve got to give, I am beginning to find myself. I highly recommend giving all you’ve got! Thank you mom for the lesson, turned immediately blessing on my drive home to our beautiful Santuario yesterday…”Some gave all Coral Dawn. All gave some and some gave all…”

Happy Sunday everyone! Only you know what to do with the messages the angels send. Sherry reminds each of you, just the same as she reminded me…”Some gave all. All gave some and some gave all. For your own growth, for your own journey, be the one who gives it all!”

We each have the privilege and the opportunity to be of service. We have the ability to be in our community. We have the power to build up our community. We have an animal sanctuary right in our own backyard, literally! And we are all welcome here, Always, We are home here, aren’t we? We are in Sanctuary here. Why not be a part of the community? A true and literal part of something that you believe in? Volunteer. Donate. Share. Commit to $10 a month and be a sponsor. Check out our Facebook page and meet these amazing beings. Come out here and meet them. Help us feed them! For you…do this for you. I cannot tell you how glad I am that I do this!

If you would like to become a monthly donor, a one time donor , a volunteer or a visitor to our Sanctuary, we would love to hear from you! Right now, if you have the means, we would love for you to donate to the fundraiser that our brother Chris has set up right now, to get a new truck that will provide for all of the beautiful beings here. Check us out on Facebook and please donate and follow us! We would love to have you be a part of our compassionate community! All are welcome here!

Santuario de Karuna is on Facebook! I will do a separate post with the fundraiser link after I post this morning’s blog. Please help out if you can!

I love you! Have a beautiful Sunday everyone! Thank you for being in the healing room with Sherry and I this morning!

I throw my bullshit flag high into the air!!!

Happy Saturday morning everyone! I fucking love you! Thank you for being here!

I know many of you are hurting and I am here to tell you that I see you and I love you. We try, don’t we? We keep scraping ourselves up and getting back up! We keep fighting the good fight. We are here for a purpose. We are here for a reason. This pain is our teacher. This hell is our launchpad into greatness. This is exactly as it should be and we are right where we are meant to be. Only we can change where we are at. If you do not like where you are at in this moment, may I ask you, what are you doing to change it? We stay the same because we are afraid of change. We don’t because we think someone else will. We know better. You are it. You are the one your life is for. Your Dharma…your journey…your growth. This is all about you my friend. Every single bit of it.

We came here and we are here. We only have a little while. We only get one shot here, to give it all we’ve got. Cancer is a mother fucking bitch in the night and she is here to steal your children, your husband, your dad and your sister…your mom and your little brother…your best friend and your lover. Cancer does not give one fuck. Cancer does not give a shit how you saw this all going down. Nor does the final moment before you pull your own trigger. There is no grace…no mercy in these things. No righteousness or rhyme or reason…Suicide does not wait for hope. Suicide cannot call up common fucking sense. Suicide is the final engulfment of all that you fought against, finally taking you over. Suicide is you taking yourself out of pain that we cannot know or judge or understand. We pretend to and yet, we don’t know your heart, your journey, your pain. These are not our things to judge you for. These are things for us to love you through. The heart attack that knew no fucking mercy…the one that took your lover in the night…these are our lessons my friends. These are our launching pads into greatness! Without the one you loved more than you loved your own self, what great things will you do now, with that shattered and beautiful heart of yours? With your pain, who will you help to heal?

The bottle…the pills…the food…the mind fucking thoughts…for today…just for today, can we set these things down? I will rest from mind fucking myself and you set down your bottle. I will consciously stay out of my head today. You eat consciously today. Eat what nourishes you and feeds your soul and that beautiful body of yours. Do not eat to fill up the gaping hole that food will not fill anyway. Eat joyously with friends, in laughter and celebration today! Enjoy every single bite. When you are full, set your fork down and be done. Fill yourself with joy and laughter and happy instead of the things that make you sick at your own sight. The bottle is always going to empty you more than it empties itself. Every single mother fucking time. One after the other, glass after empty glass crashing as you fetch yourself another drink…as your mind gets far away from you and your words trail off into oblivion without you…set the fucking devil down my friends. The demons are in those bottles and they will fuck you up every single time, for they know and care not who you are. They are your fucking void…your empty…your constant reminder that you are wasting your life, yourself, your love and your potential. Every sip…every swig, especially the ones you are lying to yourself about, will rip a little more of you away from you, away from me…away from us. For I won’t be there when you awake to yourself, to hold you and tell you it’s okay…You’re okay. You will wake alone again with your empty bottle and your own lies and you will be ashamed. You will be so ashamed in fact, that you will just keep drinking. You do not feel worthy to be whole, to be present, to be sober…and so you aren’t. I am here to suggest to you that you are more than this. You are so much more than the things that you allow to run your life. Set it down. Just set it down. And no matter who or what or when or where…you do not pick it back up.

I am vegan and I will always be vegan. Eating animals, my friends, is no longer an option for me. Period. I set it down. You did too, for the animals, stop eating them,right? You went vegan and never once looked back. Your life is now dedicated to the animals and you will never eat them again. Why is that? How can you be vegan, just like that, after eating dead flesh and secretions your whole fucking life? You stopped. And yet you cannot stop doing what is killing you? I know. I know. You’re sick. Me too my friend. Me too. Here is the thing, you have the ability to stop. You stopped eating flesh of your friends, simply because it is no longer an option, right? Many of you quit cold turkey, so to speak, didn’t you? For the animals, for compassion…you quit just like that. And yet, for you, you say you are sick and cannot stop drinking? I am going to hurl this bright yellow bullshit flag at you! I am going to bring a rare steak, smothered in dairy to your house, with a picture of our cows, Karuna and Ahimsa, and I am going to ask you to eat that fucking steak. In front of your plate, I am going to place a full glass of water and I am going to ask you to eat your friends and wash it down with something that won’t allow you to “forget” what you just did. This madness…this addiction…this thing you say you can’t control…why do you think so little of yourself my love? If I were presented with a rare steak, a bottle of wine and a glass of water, You will find me on a water fast until I find something else to eat and drink or until I pass away from starvation. Eating my friends and drinking the wine are equally as egregious to my soul. I will not because there is a power higher than myself who reminds me to repeat the serenity prayer until I feel it. To set it down and to thank God for my sobriety, just for today.

Have a beautiful Saturday everyone. Set it down and pick yourself up. We are all here waiting for you! We believe in you and we fucking love you! We simply want you to love you too!

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.

This morning I write for my dear friend Taffy, who’s needs all of our love…

Good morning everyone! Please welcome my good buddy Taffy to the healing room this morning! Taffy is 14 years old and as you can see, he struggles with some physical ailments. Taffy just turned 14 on Thursday, February 14th. Taffy’s body struggles and yet his spirit soars! Taffy needs assistance for the body that carries his huge spirit and his enormous soul around. Taffy is love and today, I am asking you to send every last bit of love you have to our boy Taffy, his sister Lily and his Mom Nicole and his Father, Rod. This morning, they need us to lift them up and to hold them close. The struggle is real for Taffy and the struggle is just as real for his mom and dad who are carrying him through this storm. Lily, well, her highest self is all about Taffy’s highest good. Her “in body self” though…she is used to Taffy giving her hell, and he isn’t, because he can’t and so please send her all of your good juju this morning to love her bobo through this difficult journey.

We all have that special someone and Victor, well he sure was someone special. Just ask Rod or Nicole about Victor! Victor was the first angel that came down when I called for Taffy’s tribe to surround him. Victor pushes Taffy’s little ass right back across the rainbow bridge that he was trying to cross too soon, back to us, for a bit longer. Victor inhabits Taffy’s little body now much of the time, to help him keep wheeling himself along. Last night, just like I held little Aiden for twelve days, in recliners and felonious hands…in abandoned cars and sickness…I held Taffy. Taffy will not leave my arms, and I ask you to give all the love you mustered up for Aiden and his family for Taffy and his family now. As Taffy and I journey, as Morgan and Marne and I still journey, I ask each of you to lift us up. With all you’ve got this morning, please lift us all up in your love and healing light that we may love Taffy and his family to the brim and overflowing!

I have never really been able to explain my work. I realize as I write this morning that is because it needs no explanation. My work is my work and when it is done, it is forgotten. I once birthed a baby rhinoceros in the Serengeti. I still swim with Morgan and her calf Marne in Tenerife. I am always right next to Aiden and I go to see him every chance I get.

Aiden asks for your love for his buddy Taffy this morning. I never laid hands or eyes on Aiden until Aiden finally came home. My eyes, in my work, they are not what gives me the vision I need to do my work. My heart and my divinity…my love and my desire to spread God’s love and healing…my knowing and my acceptance that I am here to love us all home…that is one tool I use daily…and she has never once failed me. As I walk out of fear and into love, I thank Aiden and Taffy and Teddy and Alice and Penn…Gypsy and Hannah…Michael and Jackson and Sid…Rio and countless other clients who have walked me home. My interaction with these clients has inspired a shift for me in my work. This shift is to return to the Serengeti, where I did not give one fuck what people would think if I relayed my experience, of birthing a baby rhinoceros so that she could live, while her mommy died birthing her. I brought her in and I carried her mom out. When the time came, I picked up my own mother in my loving arms and I carried her home. That is who I am and that is how I do it. Actually, to be honest, I don’t do it. God uses me as a vessel to do what he cannot do without hands. I am merely an instrument used by the master himself, and I am so thankful, grateful and blessed. Thank you God, for choosing me to love your beautiful babies. Love is a verb and I am learning how to love as I am loved.

Taffy might have a day left. Taffy might have a week or a month or years left. We have no way of knowing, until we know. Taffy told me yesterday, as I gazed into his mother’s beautiful, sparkling and “Sherry blue” eyes, filled with tears, that until his soul leaves his eyes, he is all in. My mom opened her beautiful, sparkling blue eyes one last time, before the last time she opened her eyes…and the last time, her eyes were gray…for her soul had left the building. Taffy reminds us all that our eyes are the window to our soul. When that light goes out, the soul soars free and we bust out of the bodies that contained us and can no longer carry us. I saw my mom yesterday, in Nicole’s eyes and I saw little Aiden in Taffy. I see you in me and me in you. As we walk each other home, sometimes we all need a little lift. Today, with all of my heart, I ask you to lift Taffy and his family up and that you love them with all you’ve got!

I hope you all have a beautiful Saturday and I ask you to please say with me, “We love you Taffy! We have got you in our loving arms! Let’s keep rolling big guy!”

Three years later…I dedicate today’s blog to my Mom…I love you. I miss you. I hear you.

Today is December 3rd. Three years ago at 12:06pm, on this day, my Mom won her battle with stage four breast cancer, with metastasis to her liver, her lungs and her brain, and her heart stopped beating. My Mom was 66 years old. My Mom was a mother and a wife for just over 46 years and that is all she ever wanted to be…a wife and a Mom. My mom was a good wife and my mom was a good mom and my blog today is in honor of and in loving memory of my Mom, Sherry Marie Ricketts.

My soul struggles today. My heart aches with each heartbeat this morning. This gut-wrenching, life-leveling and completely inconsolable pain is upon me and I feel crushed by its weight this morning. My mom is dead and I can’t fucking take it. Three years and yet no time has passed at all. Today, right now…I am right back there.

5:21am and I awake, although I’ve not slept in two months, to my Dad calling down the hall for me. We need to change your mom again. No wait…that was a few days ago. On this morning I got up to let Tamara out, so she can get up the mountain and feed everyone. Tamara came down last night to be with me…to be with us. My Mom has been non-verbal and non-responsive for days now. Aging with every breath she takes…we cannot not know that my mom is going home soon.

Preparing her meds, I hear her gasping in the other room for breath. I can’t fucking take it anymore and I call hospice and she says she will be right there. One of the kindest souls I’ve ever known…an angel came and she said we were getting close. I asked her how close and she said hours to maybe a day. My mom had lost her gag reflex and time was short. Time was so short in fact that it was only a couple of hours between hospices last visit and my calling them back to help me. God damn it I needed someone to help me. My Mom, lying dead in our den, was not there to help me, and I collapsed and I wept and I fucking died in that den too. My dad and I died in that den and we did not know what to do. I had to call my little brother and tell him that mom just died and he died and almost wrecked his car on that day too. I had to call Tamara and I had to tell her that mom was gone. I broke. I wailed. I went completely silent. I went out to smoke, hoping she would be breathing when I came back in. She was not. We all died a little bit that day. We all had absolutely no fucking idea what we were about to be facing…we had no guidance anymore. We were babies, all of us, and we didn’t know what in the fuck to do without that lifeless woman lying there telling us…guiding us…helping us. My God! Please help us!!!

Three years ago and yet I am there now, with and without my mom. I am in the studio she built for me, in front of the fire she insisted that I have and I am without my mom. The cold of that cannot be warmed by this fire. My soul screams this morning and my heart aches for my mom. I just want my mom right now. This is not just another day to me. Maybe someday it will be and today is not that day. December 3, 2015…a million fucking lifetimes ago and right fucking now…1095 days ago…26,280 hours ago…1,576,800 minutes ago…Three years ago on this day, time changed…life changed…I changed…and today I honor the place in me that needs to honor my mom today. And so it is.

Sherry was my Mom…Shawn’s Mom…and countless other people’s mom when they needed her to be.Sherry was Fred’s wife. Sherry was a friend to so many of you…a confidant and a crusader for so many of you. We know her differently and ever the same. We love her differently and ever the same, don’t we? Many of you hurt today too, don’t you? I feel you and I want you to know that I love you. I feel you. I miss those fucking high heels 👠 clicking towards me too.

My mom always told me that I should write. “Sugar, you write so well. Why don’t you write a book? You tell your story so well Sugar, why don’t you be a stand up comedian? Sugar, how do you spell…? Sugar, you write and draw and paint so well…you are an artist and a poet…why don’t you write and illustrate your own book? Maybe a book of your animals at the Sanctuary? Sugar, you are going to write, aren’t you?” Yes Mom. I am going to write. I began writing soon after I realized that was the only thing that could possibly, maybe, save me, and that was a year ago when I started coralsblog I am painting again mom and two of my pieces are in a local art show tomorrow evening, at Effing Bar (coincidence? I think not). I never wanted to be a Mom and my mom didn’t understand it…and she knew it just the same. My mom knew who I wanted to be…who I would be…she bought me their books…Shakespeare…Vincent Van Gogh, Pablo Picasso…Michael Jackson…Wayne Dyer Mickey Mouse and Jesus…Shel Silverstein…Dr. Seuss…just to name a few. I don’t know it then and I am grateful to know it now…my mom knew who I was and she knew I was here to do great things…amazing and huge things. I don’t think either of us realized that she would have to die for me to do it. This blog would not exist if my mom were still alive and so I do what I do. For every negative, I offer three positives:

My mom is dead and I can’t call her on the phone.

1. Because my mom has left her body, she is my biggest fan and no longer my biggest critic. For this new relationship with the woman I call my mom, I am eternally thankful.

2. Because my story is my own and because I am allowed to tell it, I am thankful that my mom is supportive and encouraging from where she is, as she was unable to be supportive of my being public about what happened in our family while she was in her body. My mom is my inspiration for much of my story now and I am so grateful.

3. I am so thankful that I had 42 years with my mom. I am thankful for the woman strong enough to carry me in and humble enough to let me carry her out. For every breath I lose missing my mom, someone else never got the time to know their mom at all. For the things I take for granted, I am becoming aware and I am so blessed.

Today, I stand before you making a different choice than I did a year ago…two years ago…on this day. I will not stand at her grave and weep…she is not there…she does not sleep. I am here and I do not sleep either. A little tiny pig needs a ride to her forever home this morning. I had scheduled my first work day with the little co-operative that we’ve been dreaming up, purposely to be on December 3rd, to begin a new, to awaken anew on this morning. We sadly canceled yesterday due to inclement weather and bad roads. So, that freed us up to jump in our Jeep and four wheel up out of here to be of service for a little bit today…and I am so fucking thankful! “When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.” Thank you Dr.Wayne Dyer. Up there with my mom this morning.,.please tell her I say hello and I love her Wayne. “Coral, you know I will.” And so it is.

I honor the woman who selflessly carried me in, a warrior in her womb and often a thorn in her side, this morning, knowing she would have to die for me to do my work. I honor the woman who was a warrior this morning. I honor the warrior in each of you this morning.

I love you mom. Today, in loving memory and honor of our mom, Tamara and I will be of service and be together. I will cry a lot. I will laugh a lot. I will appreciate your love and prayers and texts a lot. I love you.

We must go toward the love…(a message from Sherry and Coral)

Happy Sunday everyone! What a beautiful snow blanket we are covered in this morning! I love sitting cozy in front of the fire watching it snow and thinking of my Mom. I love living in the mountains, where I’ve always known would be my home and final resting place. I love being in love. As I learn what it means to be in love and how it feels to be in love…I love being in love more and more.

To be in love and I mean really in love, you have to bare your soul, don’t you? You have to bare witness to someone else’s soul too, don’t you? You have to really, really put yourself out there and to trust. You have to be naked in the fucking snow, so to speak, with icicles hanging off of you and you must trust that there is enough warmth within you to endure it. You have to be willing to do the hard work of loving first and risking not being loved in return. Sadly, this will happen to you. You will hurt and you will weep and you will want to not love anymore. And then you will love and someone will love you back and you will forget that you swore to never love again. Love scares the shit out of so many people. Love didn’t hurt us. Love never hurt us. Hurt people who didn’t know how to love us hurt us. Love did not hurt us. We, being hurt people ourselves, hurt people. Love did not do the damage that hurt people blame love for. Hurt people hurt people. (Lyric from one of my favorite songs…just escaped me which song and by whom…I apologize). We must know this so that we stopped blaming love and shying away from love. We must go toward the love. At all costs, we must go toward the love.

At the cemetery yesterday in bone chilling winds, my tears burned my face. The grass…the headstone…the whole fucking world was cold. My heart though…my heart was warm. As I drove off and pulled around to leave, there was a woman collapsed by a grave near my moms…sobbing and weeping and the shiver and tremor and pain ran through my very soul. My heart cracked and I sobbed for her. I sent her all of my love as I left her there to do what I have done so many times before…allow her to break and to pull herself back up in her time. I fucking loved that woman…right there…right then…I loved her through her enormous grief and I love her still and I do not even know her name. We do not have to know names and details that are none of our business anyway, do we? We do not. We can love another because we feel them so deeply that we cannot not know that we are them and they are us. Umbuntu. I am because you are. Do we not fall in love every day with pieces of our fractured selves that we cannot escape or heal…places that we don’t even recognize as our own when we see them in another? When I felt that woman sobbing on her knees on the very soil that I have soaked with my own tears so, so many times before…I did not need to know her name or for whom she cried. I only knew that I fucking loved her with all of my heart. We are here to love.

I woke this morning crying in my sleep, as the impending doom of December 3rd hit me in my heart center, my gut…my very fucking soul. Tomorrow at 12:06pm, three years ago…as I held my mothers hand, and she opened her eyes one last time, squeezed my hand and took her final breath…my Mom launched out of her body and soars above, around, within us all. I carried my mom home…just as my mom carried me in. My mom had a lifetime to look forward to in those tiny and yet unopened eyes and my time ran out as I placed my hands over her eyes and closed them one last time. Time does run out. We don’t do things because we don’t know how and so we just don’t. I can promise you this…I didn’t know how to lose my mom or how to follow that fucking hearse into those cemetery gates and to leave without her. I didn’t know how to do that and my mom wasn’t here to tell me how to do that and I did it. My mom left her body and then we had to leave her body there and what in the fuck is that?! Truly…who knows how to do that?! No one knows how to do that and so we do the best we can and we rely upon those who love us to help us to figure it out. That is love. Being in love is just that…being, in action…love…for someone…for yourself…be in love. You’ve only two choices…love or fear. We have been taught and programmed to fear…and yet we are love. I am. You are. We are love.

Sherry wants you to call your Mom…your Dad…your husband…your brother…your sister…your wife…your kids…your best friend…your grandparents…your neighbor…Sherry hates texting and she insists that you must call someone whom you say that you cannot live without. Not your husband in the next room. Give me a good honest reach here for someone that for whatever reason, you have been afraid to reach out to…afraid to call…call them now. My Mom and I are okay and we will always be okay. I’ve no regrets. Not a single one. My moms dying words to me, as were often her words in life to me, “Leave me alone.” And I did not leave her alone. Thank God that once again I did not listen to her!!! I did not leave her alone. I stayed by her side and I loved her home. You can do that too you know…what you want…what you need…you can do that too. If you want to call your mom…call her. If you are afraid to make that call, definitely make that call. I promise you that if you don’t make that call, you will run out of time to make that call and then you will wish you had made the fucking call. Your time will run out and your wishing you had done it will be for you to deal with in your grief. Don’t do that to you. Trust me…make the call. Hear her voice. Tell her thank you. Tell her you love her. One day there will be a phone with her number still in it that no longer connects to her. Her voice will begin to fade from your mind…your texts will have been lost in phone upgrades and you will be on your fucking knees wishing you could just talk to her one last time. I can’t. You can. Do me a favor and call her, okay?

Done and fucking done and it feels so good!

Good morning everyone. I will be really honest with you this morning. I am not in a good space. My heart hurts. I am sick of fucking waking up like this. I am tired. My reality is what it is and my experience of it right now fucking sucks for me. That is who I write about…me. My experiences  and how I feel. I am not only hurting a lot, I am mending a lifetime of fucking abuse and delusion. Delusions of fucking grandeur and so it’s taking me a bit for it to all sink in.

I will begin by saying that I love my Dad and my little Brother more than you can possibly fucking imagine. I love my mom so much that I have spent three years in literal hell since her passing. My love for my family, the three of them, is unfucking matched. Probably fair to say that it’s been unhealthy, co-dependent and strained at times, with all three of them. My Mother is dead. My father is re-married and I am happy for him and for Cheryll. I won’t claim to know Cheryll, as we have only just met. Cheryll has been wonderful to me and kind to me during my body and my life falling apart. Cheryll is sorting through Sherry with my dad and she seems to make my Dad happy. Anyone who will sit with someone and help someone to sort through a lifetime of someone else’s things…anyone who will hold another through that is good in my book. I love Cheryll and I believe that Cheryll loves me. So, just to clear any misunderstanding up that may exist, I am not at war with my Dad. I do not dislike and never have disliked Cheryll. I love my little brother. I love my mom. I wasn’t not at my dads wedding because he was marrying someone other than my mom. I’m not sure where that load of horseshit came from…possibly and probably even, out of my fathers own mouth. Maybe that is how my dad heard it. Here is the truth, just to set things straight (and I never fucking do that);

My mom and dad and I journeyed very closely together for most of my adult life. The three of us just got along and enjoyed going to Vegas and happy hour and lunch and dinner. My mom made me choose between she and my Dad and my relationships with women, as they were not welcome (they, my lovers, partners, girlfriends) in our home. When they were, I had to promise that we were just friends. I choose my parents a lot more than I care to admit, over amazing women in my life simply because it didn’t feel like a choice at all. The choice had been made and unless I was willing to lie, they were not welcome. I honestly never did not choose my Mom, not until Tamara. I won’t lie, that was a bit strained too. My mom was often very unkind to me, and Tamara wasn’t silent about it like everyone before her. My mom respected Tamara for it and was only able to leave this world because Tamara had me. So, don’t hear me wrong…I love my mom. I always have and I always will. The woman was not kind to me. She was down right fucking mean to me and many of you know that because you witnessed it too. I do not love her any less but god damnit it hurts to love someone who hurt me so fucking deeply. It is hard to re-live Groundhog Day every fucking day. It fucking destroyed me and it still does, how that woman treated me and he contempt she often had for me. Do I love her just the same? You bet your sweet fucking ass that I do and I always will. My life though and my experience of my life…my life has always fucking hurt me.

So, with that being said, no one ever defended me. No one. Not my Dad. Not my little brother. Not my extended family. Not me, a lot of the time. When I did, it never ended well although it did end my mom talking to me at all, for days on end. I do not say this to dishonor my mom or my dad or my little brother or my family. I say this because it is my experience of my life, and my life has hurt me a lot. My blog is so fucking edited about my own life and I’m pretty done doing that. I still keep silent as to not say something bad or inappropriate about people. My truth may  hurt people and that is not my intent. In fact, let me just say now that I’ve no intent to hurt anyone or to dishonor my mom or my dad or my brother. I will however, not be silent. There could not be a person anywhere that has loved the three of them more than me. My mom knew that. My dad knows that. Shawn once knew that. I don’t know what Shawn knows about that anymore. As far as I know, They don’t read my blog, except my mom, who helps me to have the courage to write it, especially blogs like this where I speak MY truth even as my voice is fucking shaking. My dad and I and Cheryll and I and Shawn and I and JiSan and I are good, as far as I know. We are family by name and not in action, at least not the same action that “family” has always been in my life.

Since my mom died, so did Thanksgiving and Christmas. No one in our family called me up and invited me over for Thanksgiving dinner. No one. Nor Christmas. My Birthday was a big deal to my mom and without her, my Birthday has become void and painful. So, my family, dysfunctional as it may have been, that I have known and never really been a part of, for my entire fucking life is gone, with very few exceptions. Those exceptions are priceless and you know who you are and you are now my chosen family. Those of you who are family by blood or marriage, who have my same last name or don’t who have always loved me, I know who you are and you know who you are too, and I fucking love you. The rest of you, who call yourself family, who use that as some sort of fucking hold on me and do and have never done anything to love me like a verb or nurture me, here is a newsflash…you are not my family. Three years my mom has been gone and we’ve not celebrated a holiday since. You’ve not called me or reached out to me or loved me once…Sherry’s precious little daughter, since she fucking died. So, don’t bother. Truly, I am living with it and have been my whole life. Now you can live without it. I am done being “family” and not being family at all. I expect to see my “friends” list drop some more and I invite you to leave if you’ve never really been here at all anyway. I do not need the hurt of being where I am not wanted…where I do not belong and where I am not accepted. No hard feelings. No need to keep on keeping on at something that never was anyway.

I will write my story. You can read it or not. This is my blog, for me, for us all. I do not have any intention of harming anyone ever with what I write. I will not be silent anymore though. I will not pretend anymore. I will not attend funerals anymore of people who have been dead to me my whole life. I wish you all well. I really, really do. I also bid you farewell so that I may be Coral and not who all of you tried to shame me into being. Same thing with my “friends”…truly. If we aren’t, then we aren’t. If we are, then let’s be. This facade is killing my fucking soul and so I cut it loose and take this mask of.

My blog is my blog and my Facebook wall is my wall. I write and I post what I fucking want to post. If you don’t like it, don’t fucking look at it. Don’t come on my wall and fucking ridicule me for who and what I like. Fuck off man, truly…just fuck off. Have I ever come on to your page, ever, and spewed my shit?

Lady Gaga isn’t a fucking vegan! Distasteful and raw and uncouth. Meat suits and furs and no I’m not impressed. None of my fucking business to call the woman names because she isn’t me and doesn’t live as I do or see what I see. Lady Gaga is an amazing actress and an amazing song writer and musician and preformer. For all that she is not, there is much that she is. For all of you with your filthy words and judgement of her on my page, check yourself. Is your favorite musician vegan? Is your favorite actress vegan? Do you listen to the music of people who are not in alignment with your values? Do you drive a car? Do you have a laptop or a cell phone? If you answered  “yes” to any of these questions, then you’re not so vegan yourself. Live and let live. Go sweep your own side of the street and kind your own fucking business and stop trolling pages to start fucking controversy. Just shut the fuck up and go work in you. Lady Gaga doesn’t give a fuck what you think anyway. The woman is a human being, being human, just like you and me. Unlike many of us, she is doing something. Be the fucking change and stop trying to change others.

Am I upset? You bet your ass I’m upset. To live in a family, in a world with such potential, who refuses to embrace and love me for who I am…I am fucking devastated. I have been devastated for my whole fucking life by people who do not love me one fucking fraction of how much I love them. Love me like you fucking mean it, like a verb, or please step away from me and let me find my tribe. If you are not my tribe, please step aside, stand down…move over…get the fuck out of the way, because I’ve big work to do. Making me small did not make you big and it did not make me small either. You have no idea what greatness I am, what greatness I have always fucking been.

This is the last moment that I associate myself with anyone who does not treat me like someone. Your hatefulness and emptiness and bitterness…your blame and your unaccountability…your abusiveness and dismissiveness…your lies and your inadequacy in the face of your own mirror…you deal with yours and I’ll deal with mine. And so it is.

As always, I write to heal myself and I take what I need and leave the rest, as I encourage you to do the same.

My closing prayer;

Thank you for the lessons as they become obvious blessings. Thank you for my Dad and please help me to release my expectations of the past of him, that we may find our new path forward together in love and light…in honesty and truth…as Daddy’s girl for always. Please continue to guide my love and my path with Cheryll. Please always keep my little brother safe and content. Please bless JiSan and let her feel my love. Please help me to be discerning when assembling my tribe. Please let me be forgiving as all things not for my highest good fall away from me. Please allow me only the option of being kind as I release my need to be right. Please bless everyone in loving abundance for their place on my journey. Please show me the way and lead me out of the darkness and into the light. As those who no longer belong here fall away and leave my space, please protect my heart, and give me comfort in knowing that it is time. Please give them comfort and protect their hearts also. Please remind me that it is the quality and not the quantity of the people and the things in my life that matter. Please use me as an instrument to do your work and speak your word, even when and especially when my voice shakes. May I always, in always be in abundant and heartfelt gratitude. As abundance unfolds around me and the past falls away from me, I step forward for my assignment. I come forth and I thank you for bringing me to this place. Please always protect Tamara and our tribe, our animals and the land and beings we guardian for you. Please keep the Sanctuary in sanctity and peace at all times and protect those who enter and reside here, that it always, in all ways be protected as sacred land and treated as such. And so it is, in your name. Amen.