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.

“Every day, in every way, I am getting better and better.”

Good morning everyone! Happy Saturday to you! This morning’s blog is inspired by my interpretation of reading of the “Conversations With God” books by Walsch. If you haven’t, I highly recommend that you get these books, as they have changed my life and my outlook on life. Neale is a gifted and amazing writer and these books are gifts to each of us from God…the divine…whomever you call your higher self…and you will not be disappointed. With all of my love and thanks to my dear sister Eileen who loaned me her copies and gifted me the opportunity to open my eyes and my heart to these writings. With all of my love and thanks to Neale for having the faith, the strength and the courage to write these amazing works and to gift them to us.

Reading yesterday I came across a sentence that changed my life…my perspective and my outlook on life. “Every day, in every way, I am getting better and better.” This sentence and it’s origin I share with you now. We must begin to heal ourselves to heal our world. Will you take my hand and repeat this mantra with me morning and night, every day and without fail, to heal yourself? At least 20 times a day…”Every day, in every way, I am getting better and better.”? Will you heal with me?

Thank you Wikipedia for the following information on this mantra.

The application of his mantra-like conscious autosuggestion, “Every day, in every way, I’m getting better and better” (French: Tous les jours à tous points de vue je vais de mieux en mieux) is called Couéism or the Coué method.[15]Some American newspapers quoted it differently, “Day by day, in every way, I’m getting better and better.” The Coué method centered on a routine repetition of this particular expression according to a specified ritual—preferably as many as twenty times a day, and especially at the beginning and at the end of each day.[16] When asked whether or not he thought of himself as a healer, Coué often stated that “I have never cured anyone in my life. All I do is show people how they can cure themselves.” [17]Unlike a commonly held belief that a strong conscious will constitutes the best path to success, Coué maintained that curing some of our troubles requires a change in our unconscious thought, which can be achieved only by using our imagination.

Although stressing that he was not primarily a healer but one who taught others to heal themselves, Coué claimed to have effected organic changes through autosuggestion.[15]

La méthode Coué
Continuously, unjustly, and mistakenly trivialised as just a hand-clasp, some
unwarranted optimism, and a ‘mantra’, Coué’s method evolved over several
decades of meticulous observation, theoretical speculation, in-the-field testing,
incremental adjustment, and step-by-step transformation.
It tentatively began (c.1901) with very directive one-to-one hypnotic inter-
ventions, based upon the approaches and techniques that Coué had acquired
from an American correspondence course.
As his theoretical knowledge, clinical experience, understanding of
suggestion and autosuggestion, and hypnotic skills expanded, it gradually
developed into its final subject-centred version—an intricate complex of
(group) education, (group) hypnotherapy, (group) ego-strengthening, and
(group) training in self-suggested pain control; and, following instruction in
performing the prescribed self-administration ritual, the twice daily intentional
and deliberate (individual) application of its unique formula, “Every day, in
every way, I’m getting better and better”.
Yeates (2016c), p.55.
What an amazing gift! My God…did you know that we can heal ourselves by changing the way we look at things? We can train ourselves to stop our minds from running our lives. We can realize that if we don’t have something nice to say, we don’t say anything at all. We…I did not know this until I knew this. When I come to know this, I cannot not know this. If we are proving a point…we need say nothing at all. (Inspired by lyric from musical medicine…) I have lived my life from a place without the knowing that I really do have a choice and absolutely nothing to fear.
I woke at 3:15 this morning and I went to lie back down. I laid there for a few moments in the dark and I realized that I can sleep when I am dead. I have meditation and medicine and my writing…I have my girl and our dogs and our morning. This morning I wanted to wake to the wonder and beauty of my life. Changing the way I look at things is changing my life. Slowly and so surely that I cannot not feel it…”Every day, in every way, I am getting better and better.”
Have a beautiful Saturday everyone! I hope this mantra helps you too. I invite you to say it with me, morning and night, without fail…teach it and share it…know it and grow it. Let’s get out there and heal ourselves, shall we? I love you!

Let us share some happy and then let me be very clear…

Happy Thursday everyone! I hope you woke up happy. I know I often have not been happy and so I wish you happiness first and foremost this morning. Happiness that you’re breathing. Happiness that you look fucking amazing! Happiness that you woke up next to someone who loves you so so much. Happiness that you didn’t wake next to someone who doesn’t love you at all. It’s your happy…and I don’t know specifically what yours is…dig deep if you must though, for your happy because happy is this morning’s meditation. Grab your happy…grab your coffee…and let’s meet in the middle and form a huge circle!

The Healing Room is full this morning and we have standing room only, so pull in closer and tighter and let’s channel some happy. Fear not…if you just could not find your happy this morning, we’ve plenty to go around. In the middle of our circle, I want everyone to go up and put in their happy…all of the happy you can muster…hold nothing back…all you’ve got…and go…fill us up…overflow us and keep it coming. Right on. Thank you everyone for sharing your happy. Now, everyone who could not find any happy this morning come into the center of the circle with me. Don’t be shy. I see a few of you hesitant…like you’re not sure if you should come up. Come on up here with me now. We have a new circle inside our circle this morning don’t we? The perfect circle!! Inside we are supported and gifted by the outside. We are ongoing and we are connect. We are surrounded and we are loved. Doesn’t that make you happy? I mean that we have one another? Having you makes me happy…even on days when I can’t reach my smile…your love makes me happy. Let these circles remind us today of the support that we are and of the support that we have all around. Everyone in the outer circle take two small steps back and spread out a bit. Everyone in the inner circle step back and into the outer circle and let’s make one big circle. Now, Let us each put our arms around one another and let’s pull in close for a group hug. Hug tight and long and loving and true everyone. Give what you’ve got and take what you need. This is how we do it in the healing room. I love you and I thank you so much for being here with me and for weathering my storms with me…for loving me and for praying for me. I fucking love you! Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Have a beautiful day! Oh wait…I do have a housekeeping note real quick;

I would like to gently remind myself and everyone else that this is Coral’s blog. I began writing in December of 2017 as a daily commitment to myself to blog, without fail for 365 days. I have blogged every single day, without fail. As December approaches, I celebrate and rejoice in my ability to honor myself and I realize I’ve only a few days left of honoring that commitment to myself to be here, Blogging every single day.

I know who has been here every day since day one and I know who is here every single day, without fail…Thank you. From the bottom of my heart…truly…thank you so much for being here for me and for believing in me. I fucking love you and appreciate you so much.

I also know that in ratio to my followers, the hits on my blog indicate that most of you are closet readers. You read religiously and you do not want anyone to fucking know. Shame on you…do what you fucking want to do man…truly…in all things…YOU do YOU. At any rate, thank you for being here. I feel you and I know you and I appreciate you. Join me though, out of the closet, would you and subscribe to my blog if it means enough to you to read it like you do. Honor you. This has nothing to do with me. I rarely look at my stats unless I’ve technical difficulties. I want you to feel that you can do you after all of our time together, you know?

And then there are so many others of you that I want to thank for being here when you are here. I truly do appreciate and feel the amazing energy that you bring when you come. I fucking love you! Thank you.

Lastly, I have some people coming to Coral’s blog like one might rubberneck at the scene of a horrific and catastrophic accident. Coming here to voyeur and to spy and to check up on and edit corals blog, as though they’ve the right to do so. I write about my experiences. I write about my life. I write about these things, these experiences, as I experience them, as that is the only perspective I have to write from. I am so careful to not use names and pictures without permission and quotes without credit. As careful as I am and as much as I care, and I do…sometimes, I miss someone. I fail to see how my experiences may occur to them, as Coral is a pretty uncommon name and ties me to people, via my experiences. For that, I will be more mindful henceforth. I will not be back-editing and I will not be editing myself in fear of how you (generally speaking and to no one in particular) take me henceforth.

I will say this too…I am writing my story. MY story on a blog with MY name. If you are looking for me…here I am. If you are not looking for me and somehow stumbled upon me…please find your way back out. This is healing space. This is a forum to honor me and my commitment to myself. Contrary to how it may look or feel to you…I promise you (again, generally speaking, and to no one in particular) this is not about you. It really is not about you. Corals blog is corals blog. I come here to write and get it all out and to heal. I write my story to heal us all. I do not and never have meant any harm in anything I have ever written about anyone. It really is that simple and so it is.

The struggle is real for each of us and so I send back to the universe what does not serve my highest good..what does not serve your highest good. And so it is. Have a beautiful day everyone! I love you!

A few things I learned last week…

Good Monday morning everyone! What an epic weekend I had! Truly fucking priceless!!

First things first….my girl is home!!! My girl is home!!!!

I spent time with my little brother for the first time in forever. I went to his home and he came to my home for the first time. We met at the home we grew up in and loaded up our Christmas memories together, to go to his home. In that garage…the one we walked through a billion times to get home and to go out and meet our world. In that garage where Shawn held me up, right before I landed in a heap on the floor on Saturday morning…saying goodbye to my Mom again. All of those memories…all of those Christmas mornings…all of the most precious things that my Mother held closest to her, left the house she lived in, just like she left the body she lived in for 66 years, three years ago. Something in me just fucking split. I was holding a box and turning around to hand it to Shawn and my world went completely black. I felt that I was about to go down and Shawn reached for me before I fell. I grabbed on to him like he was the last person on the planet and I didn’t let go until I could stand up on my own again. The tears and the anger and the hurt and the disgust and the rage and did I say the fucking pain? Fuck. Just fuck. Fuck, fuck….it hurt so fucking badly that I literally felt myself ripping in two. Saturday morning in the garage of our childhood home, through a barrage of reindeer and Santa Clauses, Christmas trees and carolers…I was pretty fucking sure that I was just about to cease to exist completely. I felt my life force leaving me as that box was caught in mid-air as I lost it from my hands, and my little brother held me up. In that breaking down, I made a promise to myself, to let myself fall completely, so that I may now rise again, not from my depths and not on new soil. I stand before you now in the soil that I have nurtured and cultivated and sweated into and cried over for 45 years and I build me the way I see me…the way I am…God made me in his image and I can tell you this…we rise the fuck up now. We do not stand down…not anymore…not about things that matter.

Did I happen to mention that my girl is home? Tamara left Sunday and returned on Sunday. In Tamaras absence at the Sanctuary, I walked 92,505 steps, 38.4 miles. I have not stopped except to get a few hours of sleep, to eat a bite or two and to see my clients, except for to see my Brother. If you have seen me in the last week, you have seen me here, at home. Why Coral…pray tell…did you not leave your home? I’m so glad you asked…and let me tell you…I did not leave here because I could not leave here. Not only were there 35 beings counting on me, I also had non-stop shit to do….calls to make…deliveries and appointments to cancel…checks to write…vendors to fire…wait…I’m doing that right now:

Let me be crystal fucking clear for everyone here…If you don’t like people of my particular flavor and if you can’t do your fucking job with some respect and decorum…and if you drive your truck on to my property and launch alfalfa bales at me and my fragile hay shed, all the while glaring a hole through me hateful enough to pierce my fucking soul…oh and if you just so happen to be the manager that I called into and complained to before…stopped using you all together before…because one of your female employees straight refused service to my gay ass in your establishment…to which you said or did absolutely nothing…then you, my hateful and ignorant, unkind and now unemployed by our Sanctuary, friend, are no longer welcome to do business with us. Over the years we have patronized you individually and for the last five years, as a couple and an animal sanctuary in your local neighborhood. We have spent thousands upon thousands of dollars and we have made countless trips through your doors. You have driven across our threshold for the last time. We have graced your establishment with our presence for the very last time. Thank you for the part and place you had in our journey and all of our best. We are done here. It is finished . You are fired. And so it is.

On that note, we need a new, gay friendly…human and animal friendly…appreciative of our business and our 501c3 non-profit, tax-exempt status, respectful of us and all of our animals…our property and our very beings…place to buy our orchard grass and alfalfa in two strand bales, at a reasonable price. We will need delivery and someone to stack, with love, kindness and compassion our food delivery. We do not have a truck reliable enough to pull our trailer or we would not need delivery. We have re-stacked every fucking load they have delivered, and so, henceforth, we are looking for someone to follow basic and simple directions and to do it with love and a smile, so that we don’t have to…so that we can be working with the animals doing our job and not have to worry about if you are in there taking as much pride in your job of kindly delivering and stacking our feed. I put this request out to the universe with all of our love and with all of our gratitude that we abundantly receive for the animals from someone who loves and respects and honors us also. And so it is. Thank you.

Just to put this out there also, in my hands on experience of the last week, the Sanctuary is in pretty desperate and immediate need of some pretty big ticket items. I’m going to list them now and put out into the universe now, to manifest these things, as we are doing the best we can with what we have. We are quickly approaching winter and we need more. In my observation, to make Tamara’s daily life…the one that she dedicates herself to 365 days a year a bit easier, we need the following things. Maybe you know someone. Maybe you are someone. Maybe you have one of these things or maybe you can afford one of these things. Maybe you have money that you don’t know where to donate and no one has asked for your help…I am asking for your help now. I put this out to the universe now with all of my love and intention to make the rest of all of our lives the best of our lives here at Santuario de Karuna. And so it is.

We need the following:

1. A full size, heavy duty, V-8 or bigger, truck for the Sanctuary, in good mechanical condition, with four wheel drive and a trailer hitch and tow package. We want to haul our own feed. We want to pick up our own supplies. We need more. Plain and simple.

2. A two-horse trailer, again, in good working condition, with solid axels and tires, as we will be using it to transport animals to and from the sanctuary, so IT MUST BE SAFE. Prince needs to go to the vet and have his bud amputated. We are going to have to find a way to get him there. The stress of not having a truck and a trailer in our own driveway is a huge and underlying stressor that would help us tremendously not to have on top of us all the time. As with each of you, if your babies need to go to the vet, you wan to know you can get them there right away.

3. 4 winter snow tires and a front plow for our Polaris ATV. We have two flat front tires that I air up every couple of days. We are going to have to plow our driveway and we would love to plow yours…seriously…that’s how we roll. We need good winter tires and a plow. We have the ATV and the winch and we though we were good. We are making it work and we need a bit more.

4. We need to get water accessible to all of our property so that we can water our animals every morning without having to thaw a hose and pray we hit the very limited window of time we have before it freezes again. We also want to talk to a plumber about getting an outdoor, public restroom and shower for all of you. Today though, we need to find a way to not have to carry so much water, especially as winter is approaching and we have ice and black ice. Solar tanks? Any help is appreciated.

5. We need to have electricity to each animals enclosure. Period. We don’t. It’s not safe. It’s grueling for Tamara to haul water. It’s too much. I feel like I got hit by a Mac truck and it was one week. I’ve no idea how she does what she does every day.

6. On Monday, every week, rain or shine…snow or rain or hail…unless it’s too dangerous or the roads are impassable, the Sanctuary needs volunteers. I will be home on Monday and so I will organize and facilitate this every single week, without fail. There will be a set time and we will work together to muck and clean and do whatever is needed to keep the Sanctuary tip top. We will create a team and I need 6 people, every single week, to commit to this. This is an awesome opportunity and will be treated as such, to come be in Sanctuary and to be of service. This is not a tour day. This will be a work day. I am offering six people this amazing opportunity, so please message me and we can set up a brief interview. These are non-paid, completely voluntary positions and I will treat it the same as I did when I managed hundreds of people. If you don’t show up and if you don’t work hard, I will replace you. This is a gift and I put it out there as such…for you, for us. I value you and your time and I will accept nothing less from you. Fair enough? Right on. I can’t wait to hear from you! We begin next Monday. We could just be me and that’s okay. I hope not though…it’s a lot of fun to work out here with these guys!

For today, that is pretty long, so I close in the most heartfelt gratitude for the EPIC work day that we had at the Sanctuary yesterday. Totally impromptu…totally last minute and we had 21 people show up! 21 people!!! For a work day to surprise Tamara when she arrived home from being with her family over Thanksgiving. What a beautiful day with all of you. From the bottom of our hearts and from all of the animals…Thank you. We love you. Have a beautiful day everyone! I love you!

Fear is a liar…

 

89A59EEC-38A8-4186-B36F-86EA4FE9D00A.jpegGood morning everyone. Thank you for all of the love yesterday. My anesthesia and my injections went well. I am doing better today, in terms of discomfort. I am healing and I am so thankful.

My life has been consumed by debilitating fear. My thoughts have been fearful and my feelings and emotions saturated in fear. My outlook has been fearful and my memories and recollections are plagued with fear. My greatest fear of all…losing my parents and my little Brother…and I’ve come to believe that maybe with all of this fear, I am attracting exactly the things that I do not want in my life. My sister has told me and constantly reminded me that fear is a liar and yet, I think I have spent most of my life believing fear, attracting and manifesting fear. I am not afraid anymore. I went to bed on Monday night and I made a very conscious decision to not be in fear anymore.

You see, there is fear and there is love, and that’s it. I am learning that I cannot be both in fear and in love. I cannot be here and there. I cannot remain debilitated by fear and also be occupying the love space that I am here to occupy. I must make a conscious choice and Monday, after much reading and praying and meditation, I consciously chose love. I consciously chose love over fear.

I woke up different yesterday. I woke up with a knowing in my very soul of who I am and where I belong. I do not belong in the unrelenting depths of despair and in the throes of depression. I do not belong at the very bottom of all that I am and all that I intuitively know in my heart to be true. I am love. I have always been love. I got caught up in the terror and the fear of my past. I’ve been stuck reliving it my whole fucking life and Monday, after 45 years, I heard and felt and understood the caliber of my situation. Fear is a mother fucking liar. Since I cannot be both fear and love…it was an easy decision…I choose love.

Anyone who knows me well, knows how debilitating my past and my fear about it has been. Anyone who looks at me for two seconds can see the wreckage left by the death of my Mom. I am not this. I am not broken down and done. I am badly bent and sick to death of feeling broken beyond repair.

If any of you have ever had pelvic injections, it’s no fucking joke. I couldn’t not know what brought me to this place and I couldn’t not feel anything about how I got here. I saw the stirrups and I started to get scared. I made a different choice. I took my pants off and I sat down with a paper towel covering me and waited for my doctor to come back in to begin our journey together to my new life. I wasn’t so concerned about being brave as I was concerned about not living one more moment in fear. Fear, he is a liar!

I dedicate  this blog to my sister Michele…I finally hear you sister…thank you for always reminding me that fear is a liar. I love you!

Have a beautiful day everyone! I love you too!

G

I will be praying for all of you today…

Good early morning. I stayed up on purpose to post this first thing, as I am healing and I want to bring all of my energy, focus and intention into this place of healing and wellness. I will post this and go to bed at midnight as an act of dedication to my blog and to each of you.

I have lived the vast majority of my life in fear. Debilitating, life taking fear. I am not afraid anymore. I am through the pain that initially brought me here and I am here now to claim my healing and my wellness and my happiness. I forgive, without prejudice and with all of my heart, those who have harmed me and wronged me. I walk away without hesitation from all that does not serve my highest good. I forgive myself for my transgressions and I cease apologizing in repetition in hopes of being forgiven by you. What you think of me truly is not any of my business, and I realize wholeheartedly that it never was any of my business.

I have had a stack of cards that I have bought over the course of many years, to send out to people who touchéd my soul. I filled them each out this evening so that I may check off of my list the concern of how they may or may not be received. I send these envelopes to those addresses with all of my love and gratitude, for space held, lessons learned and blessings abundant.

I have been reading a lot. I just read “Conversations With God~an uncommon dialogue~book 1” by Neale Donald Walsh. This book was loaned to me last week and I will never be the same. My perceptions and my reality and my relationship with God and myself…forever blessed.

We live in fear or we live in love. It really is that simple. I did not know that. I am so thankful to know that, as it explains my whole life and my existence. I am love. I have lived in and through the worst of my fears.

Today as my loving chiropractor put my jaw back into place, I had an epiphany…I am okay. My jaw wasn’t broken again today. My jaw was broken a lifetime ago. Did it hurt? Fuck yes it hurt, and I won’t say that it didn’t. I will say that it didn’t do the damage it initially did or put the fear of hell and damnation into me…not anymore. It simply hurt, a lot today. I breathed and was loved through it and I am okay.

My pelvic injections…the ones I have lived in fear of for so long…we are hours out..less than twelve hours out from those injections. I am not afraid anymore. I am not looking forward to it and yet, I actually am looking forward to the healing that will come as a result of my pain being interrupted enough to cease.

My journey so far has not left me searching for God, as he has been in me …he has been me all along. Reading this book seemed familiar and reiterated what I already know and have always known in my heart. I feel at home and I know I am loved. My God had never forsaken me and tomorrow will be no different. I lie myself down and I ask God to carry me, to hold me and to comfort me, and so it is.

My story is not so different from your story, is it? We must realize that we can come into the light and leave the fear behind us, only when we trust ourselves enough to do so. We must know that we are powerful, that we are enough, that we have always been enough. Doubting God does not cause God not to exist anymore than doubting myself has erased me. I am here and I am just getting started.

I come here, before you, to allow you to see your own beauty. We are all in this together and we are all just walking each other home. I am making a conscious choice to share my journey, my very personal journey with you, that you may not ever be alone on your own journey. I walk through my fears right here before you so that you may know and feel and see what is possible for you.

There is nothing to fear but fear itself and I have feared fear for the last time. I am here to heal. I am here to love. I have not gone through what I’ve gone through for no reason. I come out victorious on the other side, just as you will, when you choose love over fear. We are so provided for and I am so thankful, grateful and blessed.

Nahko opened a world of musical medicine to me that I could never have imagined, and yet so familiar that I’ve known him all along. The books I am enthralled with and buried in are not revealing new truths, but rather truths that have been long buried and gone from my sight.

My primal despair and pain over the loss of my Mother came to a halt today when I realized and accepted that my Mom has gone nowhere, she merely changed forms. As long as I can remember, I have feared not my own death, only the death of those I hold the most dear. Fearing death of those I hold most dear has been a death all its own. A debilitating and degrading path that only leads me further from myself and my highest purpose. My Mom is here with me and I am thankful. My lover and best friend…my soulmate and my confidant, my accountability and my rock…she is right here beside me. My Dad and my Brother and Cheryll and JiSan…Sigrid and Michele, Bob and Sharp…Eileen and Kelly, Valerie and countless others of you…Lisa and Janet…and those who prefer to remain nameless…you have each carried me and I am forever grateful. Taos and Rocky…Aliah and Prajna…Nahko Bear and Mala Bear…Karma kitty and everyone in Sanctuary has held space for me until I could walk through my fears, to the life I know I am here to live, to the person I am and the love that is me.

With new eyes and renewed faith, with fear gone from me and my faith completely restored, I stand before you, before God himself and I say a thousand times, thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I am because you are. Today, I begin my life anew as I walk through the shroud of fear that once debilated me into the eternal life that God has gifted me. And so it is. Let’s do this!

Instead of asking for your prayers today, I will be praying for each of you today. Instead of desperately asking for your love, I will be loving you with all I’ve got. Instead of fearing an outcome, I am going to show up and give it all I’ve got, knowing that my outcome will favorably reflect that.

With my hand in my girls hand and with my Daddy beside me, I cross the threshold into the life I am meant to live, giving God the glory and thanking each of you so much for your love, your light, your strength and your faith in me. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Missing my Mom and hurting so bad inside…

Good Sunday evening everyone. I hope you had a wonderful weekend. We had a beautiful day at the Sanctuary today and we are so glad that everyone came out for potluck.

I am having serious social anxiety issues and they seem to be getting worse than better. I feel such deep sadness that I often feel absent from the container that carries me around. Stuttering has proven challenging, and I have never stuttered, until recently.

I met my Dad and Cheryll for breakfast and it was nice to see them. They gave me a box of some of my Moms things and I can’t even look right now. I am not sure what is happeneing to me, only that being physically separated from my Mom right now is horribly excruciating for me and I can’t seem to rise above it. This box, these things, her things…without her…I just cannot. Not today.

I feel the seasons changing and I am not ready for the invincible winter that devoured my Mother and left me without her, lurking around the corner, waiting to devour me again too. The chill and the empty and the hurt…the fucking Groundhog Day every fucking day with this…”Coral, your Mom is not coming back.”…Truly, every single day. As September makes its way into October, I am preparing space in my office and my studio to just be…to hurt this fucking hurt out until I can breathe again. Never has something hurt me so deeply or taken so much from me.

I was going to blog from the cemetery and the tears just won’t allow it. I lie on the bench in the sun, just soaking up the rays, trying to find enough warmth in my soul to bring me back to life. I feel hollow and empty and flighty and absent. I cannot seem to anchor, as I am constantly trying to escape the physical pain of my childhood.

How did I come so far, over the course of these years, to have absolutely no idea where in the fuck I am?

Sitting at the cemetery, it feels empty and full. Peaceful and sad. Quiet and dead. In front of my Moms headstone, it’s almost like if I don’t look down, she’s not really there. I look off into the distance, almost as though she will appear and sit next to me. I sit alone. I sit for a long time lately, long excruciating and empty time…missing her and talking to a space that she doesn’t even fucking occupy. I visit her where she is not because she is not where she used to be, not because she is there…more because there is specific space for her there for me to sit in front of her, not her.

Fuck the empty. Fuck this fucking pain! Fuck…just fucking fuck already. How do I stand over a slab of fucking stone with my Moms name etched into it, below her picture, and accept that she is gone? How do I keep living when the one who gave me life is no longer living? I have called my Mom a million times…a million fucking times and she always answered. My cries crash through time and space and fall upon deaf ears…my primal screams are no longer heard. My Mom is not coming back.

This pain, this inconsolable emptiness is devouring me. Sitting catatonic in front of her headstone, somehow, stops the painful pace of time, if only for a few moments, so that I can catch my breath and prepare for Groundhog Day again tomorrow. I wonder if there is any end to the pain in my heart? Will I ever wake in the morning okay again, without feeling like I am dying too?

My medical situation has opened up a whole chapter of my life best left closed. The damage is like a fucking minefield…like I just came back from a fucking war. Jaw dislocated and eyes glazed over…guarding myself in pain, off of pain medication, trying to heal a lifetime, generations of excruciating pain. I am so weary that I must go find sleep. I am so sad I must escape the empty.

Every day, multiple times, I fight myself to not cancel Tuesday’s appointment for those pelvic injections and I wonder to what end? How much worse can Tuesday hurt than the abuse that brought me to this place in the first place?

So, this is the place in which I dwell, reliving a lifetime of abuse and the emptiness of missing my Mom, as I try to muster enough courage and strength to go and get my healing. I could really use your love and prayers. I am not doing as well as I would have you all believe. I am doing the best I can and that just isn’t cutting it right now. I love you and I am so glad you are still here!

So thankful for Prajna…

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Good morning everyone. I can’t sleep. I am in very  an auspicious time in my life right now.  I am wide open and sensitive as fuck about certain things. Other things, old and hurtfully repetitive things…monotonous and unresolving and stuck things though…I am setting that shit down.

My life feels like all of the dust that settled is being unsettled. All of the things I have let lie…they are resurfacing and showing themselves. The dust isn’t really in a thick layer anymore and you can’t write your name in it clearly anymore. The dust of my life is unsettled. I am unsettled. The stagnant stench of nothingness is being riled up by everything. Everything is being scrutinized and nothing can be done about what has been done. My body is being unearthed and reworked. Things are being touched and moved and altered, desperately trying to reach and end feel to trigger point some relief into the deepest untouched by loving hands places. Touch had not been positive for me. I can take a beating. We all fucking know that. You keep Kicking and I keep ticking. You hit and I recoil. You Slice and dice me with your words and I am so tired of how deep it penetrates that I can’t even stand back up right now. Everything in Coral feels to be turning inward, to be going silent, to be hibernating.

All of my life, every day, every single morning…I get back up. The fog of the trauma of it all keeps me anesthesized a lot, until I’m not and then I’m just fucking ripped wide open. I often find myself sitting in time and space, completely suspended and unaware of the world around me. I sit peacefully in these moments because they are my moments alone. Day dreaming my Mom used to call it…escaping…leaving…checking out and making nice I call it, until the violence and turbulence in me subsides a bit.

We have absolutely no idea what someone else’s journey is really like. We don’t know their struggle and yet I can promise you one thing…the struggle is fucking real, for all of us. The struggle to stay safely tucked back and protected in the familiar stench of hell os often the superior choice to change and the come forth into the great unknown.

Sexual abuse…physical abuse…verbal and emotional abuse…they leave some treacherous scars, don’t they? The words still linger and the scars all have stories. My right jaw had been dislocated for over a week from clenching down in pain. My jaw was broken by a blow to the face many years ago. You can visibly see that it’s out of its socket, and yet, because I’ve learned to live with it and pull attention from it,  you may not even notice it. I lie here fucking with it, trying to get it to rest back into its place…not where it belongs, as it won’t ever fit there again. Broken ribs…busted jaw…fractured psyche…and I am tired, so fucking tired. Having intense bodywork with all of these pains resurfacing and all of these traumas revisiting is not for sissies, I can tell you that.

I don’t really sugar coat things….shit is shit…even coated in sugar. The stench of shit is never mistaken for smelling the roses, unless you were taught that shit was roses and roses are shit, and many of us were taught that. Many of us teach that.

Yesterday when I walked in Prajnas room, when she realized it was me…she came unhinged. I have never had another being, ever, love me so much. Snorting and running around to take in everything and everywhere I had been, she lost her breath and choked. All the while, trying to breathe more of me in. All the while, her little tail…her little rutter, going so fast and her heart close to jumping out of her tiny little chest. Running to her little water bowl to try to soothe her throat from all of the coughing, so she could come back and take some more of me in. I actually worry about her when she gets that worked up and I just hold her tight until her heartbeat slows down. I have never been so loved and so I just laid down on the floor and let her run around and explore and kiss and shriek. A little tear was in her eye and I wiped it gently away. I promised, like I always do, that I would be back. I hated, like I always do, to leave. I have never had someone love me so much and give me so much courage to do what I need to do. As she intently gazes into my eyes, with her eye, as if to beg almost…you’ve got this mama and I’ve got you. Don’t leave me mama. I didn’t leave you. And if I had my way, she would be with me always, and I would take her everywhere with me.

Prajna reminds me that we are all Just walking each other home. It pains me to walk away from the most unconditional and honest and sincere love that I have ever known, even for a moment. Prajna and my friend Sharp give me inspiration and drive to keep striving every day to be better than I was yesrerday….to keep on keeping on, even in the depths of my despair and the pain I am in. I love you P mama. I love you so, so much. Thank you for how you love me unconditionally, with all that you are. You are the first one I’ve been able to love like this…and it’s new to me to be loved back like this. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Have a beautiful Saturday everyone. I am headed back to sleep for a few hours before clients. I love you!

Sharing the beauty of my day yesterday…

Good morning everyone! I hope you slept well. I decided to blog first thing, as it feels so much bettter to blog in the morning to me.

Yesterday was tightly scheduled and then literally blew out schedule wise. I didn’t really stress about it too much and it felt nice to roll with it. My day was actually pretty perfect. I got to see Sigrid first thing and to actually spend some time, which was so nice. We used to be joined at the hip and constant companions, and so I really enjoy when we get a few good hours together. We laughed a lot and that felt nice.

I had to move my first client to 7:30 am just to fit my whole day in. My first client , and dear friend and I also laughed and caught up over coffee and Reiki, and it was so wonderful to share and your with her.

I went and picked up Arias remains late yesterday and she slept next to me last night. I wanted to make sure she felt safe and comfortable until we could bring her back home to her family today. The whole experience around Aria has really struck a cord in my heart, as I remember our last moments together. Aria reminds us all that we truly are just walking each other home. We are one. We are the same.

I ended my day meeting a friend I hadn’t seen since high school, over 25 years ago. What a beautiful meeting it was. As we recounted how much we hated high school, the anxiety welled up a bit, as of though to say we don’t want to go back there. Having been heavy in my addiction and scurrying around with my head to the ground, just to not be fucked with, I guess I missed a lot and don’t remember people’s faces too much. Names are often familiar, and yet I can’t find the face that matches sometimes. So it was nice to feel a warm and friendly welcome when I arrived to Eileen’s house last evening. I think we were both concerned that we might need to make amends of some kind to one another, as we weren’t sure how we occurred to one another all of those years ago. I didn’t feel anything come up for me, in terms of Eileen and my bad high school memories. We talked and smoked and connected, as though no time had passed at all. Eileen gifted me my first mala ever and I just cannot take it off. This piece truly weaves its way into my soul and strikes cords in the music of Coral. Eileen said it best that I not wear my first mala around my neck with the new mala, maybe to put it around my wrist. I tried that about a hundred times and the mala and it’s energy kept migrating to my neck with the other mala. I wanted to do as she suggested and so I placed my first mala in its box on the bed next to Aria and I last night. I woke up this morning desperately wanting to put it back around my neck. I’m writing about it now because I think I have spent my whole life doing what I am “supposed” to do so that I don’t do it wrong it fuck it up. Something is telling me that these malas together, yet separate, around my neck, will create a perfect combination of the healing energy I need to embark whole-heartedly on this next leg of my journey. I jut wanted to write about how I’m feeling with my malas and to say Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

We are all human beings, just trying to figure out how to do this little dance. We have all been battered and bruised and fucked with. Failed marriages, lost jobs and financial and friend woes..and we just need some love. Truly, some unconditional love, up in here please. We are here to love, to be of service, to hold space and be kind to one another. Everything else is just bullshit.

I spent a wonderful day yesterday loving and being loved, gifted and gifting . I am so blessed and I am so grateful. Thank you to everyone who had such a beautiful space in my day yesterday. I fucking love you! Have a beautiful day everyone.

Going to bed full of gratitude tonight…

Good evening. I must say it is late and I am tired. My day has been blessed. I was amongst friends all day long. Sharing time and space…love and light. I was so gifted today in so many ways. I shall revel in the feeling of being loved like a verb from beginning to end of my day by friends I see frequently and miss in between visits and a friend I haven’t seen in over 25 years. I shall write more tomorrow. For tonight, I am going to bed full and in a deep and abundant gratitude.

I was gifted a new mala and I can already feel all the good things coming. My malas have become a part of me. I feel and embody their power…their warrior vibrations and their love. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you Eileen. Seeing you this evening was a beautiful experience…a spiritual experience. Thank you and I love you. I hope we will be seeing much more of one another, as we travel together on this amazing journey.

Good night everyone. I hope you rest well. I love you.

Beginning to find and honor my own honor beat…

Good morning everyone! I hope you rested well and that your morning is off to a good start. I am really glad you are here. I had no idea what this blogging experience would be like or where it would take me.  I committed to blogging every day for 365 days, and I’ve been doing just that since December 2017. Setting up my blog I decided to make it really easy to find me, and really easy not to find me. If you’re looking for Coral, here I am and welcome. If you’re looking to avoid Coral, here I am andyou can just keep on going. Easy…right? I figure so…and that way everyone can find me who wants or needs to do so. I want to be available. I really, really do.

For years, I had unlisted and blocked numbers. I was ambiguous about where I lived. I wanted to be anonymous and to not be easily found. I never really thought about why that was, only that it was. I cannot really describe how liberating it feels to just be available, however that looks. Maybe it was paranoia in my addiction, the failed relationships…the jobs I left..friends who were not really friends at all…possibly a combination of all of it. Now, I give my phone number and address freely to whomever needs or wants it. I have no attachment to who finds me and who avoids me, although I won’t lie…I do sometimes wonder, who is out there looking me up. Strange…it’s like it really doesn’t matter and it never really did…at the same time it does matter and it always has mattered to me, at least on some level.

Do any of you have someone you wish you could reach out to? Why don’t you? I mean, why not make that call? Why not send that letter? Why not buy those flowers and have them delivered? Why don’t we reach? I guess I kind of want to talk about that today…what keeps us from reaching? For me, I really resonate with the twelve steps and so when making amends in step 9, I am constantly reminded that we do not make amends and definitely not in person amends when we could harm ourselves or others. We don’t offload our shit and call that amending. We don’t place others in harms way, just to relieve ourselves of the shit piled on top of us. Amends are often difficult and jagged mirrors and should be handled with caution. I know it won’t be a shock, in my amends, I write letters, poetry…send music…and sometimes, all I send, all that is appropriate to send, is all of my love. We must do better when we know better. We learn from our transgressions, don’t we? Being sorry and making amends is as much about changed behavior as it is about being sorry. If you’re truly sorry, enough to make amends for it, you must also be mindful and do better. The best apology for any of us, ever, is changed behavior. We don’t say we are sorry, just to go and do the same hurtful things over again, do we?

What about when our amends are not received well at all? This has happened to me only once and I can’t lie, it fucking hurt me…in fact, it still hurts me. I’ve not mastered the four agreements just yet and I still take things personally. I must have sent it too soon, without the right words…however it happened though, I did not feel better after attempting to convey my heart and my apologies for my failures and shortcomings. Receiving the response I received for a pour my heart out attempt at being very sorry, was like a fucking machete ripping through my very soul. I wanted to snatch my letter right back out of the space that it entered and to act as though I didn’t send it, until I could get it right. I was embarrassed and ashamed and hurt on so many levels. The words that came back were sharp and jagged and blaming and unforgiving and mean as hell…and all intentioned to hurt me, and they achieved that goal…those words and all of that blame and hate, they pierced me like tiny  little daggers assaulting my heart and soul. I kept that letter for a while, almost as though to punish myself for being inforgiven and unforgivable. I read it and I hurt all over again, just like I fucking deserved, right? Not right. Not fucking right at all, and so one day, when I pulled it up to remind me of what a fucking piece of shit I am, I deleted it. I said, no more. I had to accept that the response I got said far more about the other person than it could ever say about me. I had to forgive myself anyway, for not knowing what I didn’t know before I knew it and for not being more than I was before I started to grow into who I’m becoming. I still sit with the hurt of this failed relationship sometimes, as this relationship, as fucked up as it may have been, was a relationship that I put my whole self, my whole life and my entire being into. Years later and it still stings me sometimes, being so unforgiven and so hated by someone whom I love so much and forgave wholeheartedly. How do we love ourselves through this? When someone told us and anyone else who would listen, what a piece of shit loser we are, how do we stop hearing it? How do we silence the voices of those who do not want us to be well? How do we cease to concern ourselves with the blame cast upon us for all transgressions, and not just our own. Truthfully, for the longest time, I didn’t…and instead I picked all of that up and carried it on my back with all of my shit, because after all, it was all my fucking fault in the first place, wasn’t it? It was…all of it, until last week, in the middle of a colossal meltdown…all of it was my fault, every last bit of it. I have been spinning off of my axis in all of this pain, and I have been struggling with not having my Mom and I have been fucking inconsolable…truly…catatonic and completely inconsolable. In one of these episodes, where the world literally begins to close down on top of me and crush me…enter, full blown PTSD…my Mom is dead and I am fucking dying…my family left me and the world I knew just disappeared into thin air, I paused, with tears flowing down my cheeks and popping out my eyes, hyperventilating and so fucking destroyed, I looked up at Tamara and I said this…”I just realized that she threw me away, discarded me like trash, packed all of my things in a fucking box, unbeknownst to me, while sharing the evening drinking with friends…everyone left and we were smoking in the garage and she said I’m going to bed, you’re okay to go home, right? Actually, I had thought I was going to bed with her, like I had for months before. Constant nagging on her part that I never drink and drive because such an accident took her brother…no drinking, no driving, except for tonight, you need to go home. Oh, and here’s a box with some of your things. I couldn’t breathe or see straight or cry or anything. I followed her to the bedroom, where she wanted nothing to do with me, and I laid down on her bed, fully clothed, to try to sober up a bit. After what felt like an eternity, I got up, I kissed her on the forehead and I let myself out for the very last time, of that house. I drove home drunk, because it was less risky than laying there, in that bed, next to someone who was already gone. The problem was that it wasn’t over for me and I was not gone. I hung on forever, until last week actually, to the illusion that I was loved so much, attached at the heart and soul, to someone who threw me the fuck away.”

I was crying so, so hard, so desperately looking at Tamara, searching her eyes with the tears streaming down her face, for something, anything at all, to tell me I wasn’t disposable…that I’m not a piece of trash and unworthy…and I got that. I got it finally, that this person, that I have loved with all of my heart and placed on a pedestal, since the moment I met her, simply did not love me back. Whatever she was to me, I clearly was not to her. The love that I invested and the time and the effort and the planning and the dreaming…I did that by myself. I was in this by myself. I fell in love with someone who was not available, who had already chosen someone else, and my world shattered when she stayed right where she had been, instead of coming with me. I got exactly what I deserved and I was laid flat the fuck out splattered on the floor, unable to be sorry enough. Last week, I told Tamara what really happened…how I was thrown out, with a box full of all of my things, drunk and broken into a million pieces, in the middle of the night, by the woman I loved more than anything in the world, as best as I could, in the fog I was living in.

Somehow, saying all of that out loud to the woman who loves me more than anything in the world, the woman that I love more than I have ever loved another and more than anything in the world, I finally healed a bit. I healed in the crushing pain of a truth that I could not stand to see. I was not loved like a verb and the empty words that captivated my heart and set my soul on fire, they were just words. This person was unkind and vengeful and mean and cruel, and no matter how I try to paint this picture differently, I was thrown away. I have been thrown away, so, so many times. Looking into Tamara’s eyes that morning though, I knew that I would never be thrown away again. I love you Tamara and I thank you so much for how you love me like a verb…how you love me for the best and the worst of me and how you hold space for me and for us and how you have helped me to open my eyes and begin to live a life in alignment with my own soul.

I sit here kind of peacefully, and my heart hurts and keeps beating, to a rhythm all its own…I begin to find my honor beat, as I allow what no longer serves me to fall away from me and to be returned to the universe to be recycled for the greater good of us all. And so it is. Have a beautiful day everyone! I love you!