New Normal

It has been 5 years now since my dad died. I cannot begin to tell you how hard his death was. I was devastated when he died. He was my hero. Since his death I have lost my father in law, aunt, cousin and ultimately my best friend my husband Mike.

One of the most important things I learned when my dad died was that waiting for “normal” to return was futile. I kept waiting for things to get back on an even keel. For life to show me some sort of resemblance to what it had been. Then one morning I was blessed to actually hear the words “this is your new normal.” It was life changing.

When we have life changing events happen, a death of a loved one, a divorce, an accident, it doesn’t matter what the event is, it changes our lives. We often wait for our lives to get back to normal. What we don’t see at the time is that our lives are now presenting us with our “new normal.” We never get to go back to the way things were before the event. It is a hard pill to swallow most of the time. It is heart breaking. We crave the normal that we knew. As humans we are not good with change. We are creatures of comfort.

I was very fortunate that I learned this lesson when my dad died. I am not sure I would have been as prepared as I was when Mike passed without this lesson. You see there are many things that shift and change when your spouse dies. It is different than any other death you have been through. All of a sudden your life as you knew it is no longer. You no longer have that person to talk to, to turn to when you are happy, sad, angry or any other emotion you can think of. When you crawl in bed at night there is an emptiness that is indescribable. You are use to having your person there and all of a sudden there is no snoring, no breathing noises to lull you to sleep. The world is different. You adjust, no doubt, but knowing that this is your new normal helps alleviate some of the waiting for things to return to what they were.

We don’t necessarily have to like the new normal that we find ourselves in. Embracing it gives us the opportunity to move forward. It isn’t always easy and there are days when it seems impossible. You take one step forward and three steps back but the next day is a new day and you awaken and try again.

We move forward whether we want to or not. Life continues to go on. The birds still sing. The sun still rises and sets. We still continue to breathe and we live. The alternative is not an option so embracing the life we have and finding a new comfort zone is what we strive for. As we do so we create our new normal and somewhere in that normal we find laughter, love, yearning and life again. There is always sadness but we befriend our grief and live again.

Finding your new normal does not mean you ever forget. You never forget what came before, you just accept that your life has changed and what was is no longer. You have changed, your life has changed and the future you once dreamed of has changed. It is alright, you will dream a new future. You will live your life and move on, you just won’t forget what was.

Have you found your new normal? It is this journey we call life and at some point we will all face finding it. May your “new normal” bring you solace and happiness.

In Her Service,


Dancing With Death

Death. It is a word that strikes fear in many hearts. To many it is an ending and it is eternal. To others it is a new beginning. Your beliefs, thoughts and feelings dictate which one you adhere to.

It wasn’t so long ago that our ancestors were intimately familiar with death. They prepared the fallen, they prayed over their bodies, they dug their graves or they put them on a pyre, sent them out on the water and burned them. In our society today we are disconnected from such things. We are seldom present at someone’s death and if we are we are affected deeply, yet, we do not understand why. We find it traumatic. Normally, the body of the dead is taken elsewhere, prepared for burial or cremation and a ceremony is held to honor the person who is now gone. Those left behind are left with an emptiness that can take years to go away. I have always said that I am a selfish person. I am selfish because although I know that the one that is gone is not so far away they are not physically here for me to laugh with, cry with, hold, touch. I can no longer enjoy their physical presence and I always want them back so I can do all of those things with them once again.

My beliefs are that death is not an ending but rather a new beginning. Our soul is eternal. We leave our physical bodies behind but we move into a new dimension where we are no longer the human that those left behind remember. Rather we are pure love, pure energy and we are free of the daily grind in which those of us here call living. I very seldom cry for the dead, instead I cry for the living, those that are left behind. I cry because we are left to continue on without the one we loved. To find our way without their laughter, smile, and hugs.

In my “about me” section of this blog I talk about being gifted with walking the dead to the gates. My dance with death began many years ago, although I did not realize it at the time. As I have walked my path I have made it a practice to light a candle for those that are in the process of crossing over. I say a prayer and I light the candle asking that their journey be filled with love and that their crossing be filled with ease. I also ask that the light of the candle be a guide for them to the otherside. I have done this for nearly 20 years. My family knows that if there is a candle on the mantle and it is lit that it is not to be extinguished nor touched. The candle burns until their Spirit has crossed. I always did this out of love. Love for the friends that came to me and told me they were losing a loved one. Love for the friends that were crossing. I was never instructed on how to do this or that I should do this, I simply followed my heart and my intuition.

Thinking back over the years I see now that my dance with death began way before I recognized what it was. The turning point was when my father died. I was utterly and completely devastated. I could write a whole blog just on how remarkable my dad was as a human. He was not perfect in any way but he was a remarkable human who made a huge difference in my life. When he died my whole world shifted. I had already been in my shamanic training for a couple of years and one of the things I was taught was how to communicate with loved ones that had crossed. I know that sounds weird and I know that it isn’t really something that can be taught but during my training the ability became something I could do. I couldn’t do it with my dad. There was to much pain. To much loss. I didn’t want to see him or hear his voice again because that would make the loss fresh and new again and losing him was by far one of the most difficult things I have endured in my life.

Then my father in law died. I attended his death. Literally. I took care of him during the last week of his life. 24 hours a day my husband and I took care of him until his last breath. I was actually the one that walked into the room after his last breath. I said my good-byes and then went and told my husband that his dad was gone. As I was walking into his room, just outside his door, I was shown a very clear vision of a white light. I was filled with it and at the same time I was filled with a feeling of complete and utter peace. I knew before I got to the bed that he was gone. There was no question in my mind.

During my training we are taught a death ritual. I knew that my father in law was going to die so when we were preparing to go stay with him I took the items I would need. After his death, with the permission of both his son and wife, I performed the ritual. It was life changing on many levels. I am not going to share all that happened during that ritual but I will tell you that it opened my world up and I began my dance with death fully and completely. My life has not been my own since that fateful day.

Samhain is a holy day in the pagan path. It is a day when the veil between the worlds is thin and most often practicing pagans honor their dead. A month after my father in law died it was Samhain. I decided that to honor my ancestors I would journey. Little did I know that I would open wounds that had not healed and heal them all in one journey. On this journey I finally came face to face with my dad. It literally rocked my world. It was one of the most amazing, heart wrenching, fulfilling meetings I have ever had in the Spirit world. He gave me a lot of things to think about and he gave me messages for my mom. From that moment forward there was no doubt in my mind that my dance with death would be what my journey in life would be about.

In our society death is symbolized by the grim reaper. It strikes fear in many hearts. In my work death is a woman, dressed in a white flowing dress. Her hair is raven black, her face glows in beauty and her hands are the most amazing hands I have ever seen. Her fingers glow with a silver and purplish color. They can heal a soul with a touch and they can take a soul. She is pure beauty.

Shortly after meeting Her for the first time I was told that my job is to walk people to the gate. I didn’t understand at first. Then I had friends die. I began to understand very quickly. I would receive a feeling or what I call a “knowing” that someone had died and then I would receive a phone call that indeed that person had passed. I would immediately be pulled to an iron gate. I can see it as plainly as I see my computer screen. I would stand in front of the gate and there would be a gentle breeze. The direction in which the breeze was blowing would be the path I would walk down. I would walk the path and there I would find the person that had just passed. I would take their hand and walk them to the gate. At the gate I would tell them the message that I have been given for them personally and then I would stand and listen to all that they had to say.

Some say that they are not ready to go, their work is not done. Others are happy to be leaving. Those that are not ready to go I sit with. I explain that although they do not feel that it is their time Spirit has other things for them to do and indeed they need to walk through the gate. I then listen to their messages for their loved ones. I have yet to walk someone over that does not leave a message for those left behind. Some of us left behind want to hear the message and others don’t believe or just can’t handle it. Either way I honor the living’s decision on whether to deliver the messages.

Once the messages are given I walk them to the gate. I hold their hand until they are ready to walk through. Usually I can see a beautiful array of lights on the other side of the gate. For me this is very comforting. I know that those lights are our ancestors standing there waiting to greet us. Eventually one light shines brighter than the others and I can hear a whisper and I know that it is time. As the soul crosses through the gate it is the most amazing sound of joy and feeling of peace that anyone could possibly feel. I am honored to be a part of the process.

When my husband was diagnosed with cancer I became his caretaker. Being a caretaker is exhausting work. It is rewarding in many ways because there are memories that would never have been made had I not been taking care of him but taking on the role of caretaker is not for the weak. You literally watch the person you love slowly fade away. Their light becomes weaker day in and day out. Your heart breaks and re-breaks over and over again. It is a pain filled journey as you slowly say good bye to the one you love.

I was blessed in the fact that my husband carried the same beliefs as me regarding death. He did not fight it when the time came. There was no reason to hold on when he knew that he wasn’t going to just cease being but rather he was off to start a new adventure.

I experienced things that I never thought I would experience through his process. Some good and some confusing but overall it was a beautiful experience. He was surrounded by people who loved him. He absolutely knew that he was loved and for him, that was huge. I believe it was one of his main life lessons.

Upon his death we all said our good-byes. In my home we honor our ancestors. Without them we would not be here. They are important to everyone in our home. My husband now joined the rank of ancestor. We believe that our ancestors guide us and protect us. We believe they are always walking with us and in turn we with them.

Because our ancestors honored their dead we felt it necessary to do the same for Mike. We loved him while he was here and we knew that he would never leave us but his physical body was all that was left to represent his journey on this earth. I chose to wash him. I used essential oils and water and washed his body in preparation for him leaving from head to toe. I combed his hair and then it was time to dress him. Our son picked his clothes that he would be cremated in and he stepped forward to dress his dad. Once his body was ready the crematorium took him away to be cremated.

I have shared this story with many people and usually the reaction is always the same, “I don’t think I could do that.” For me it was all about honoring the man that was such an integral part of my life for so many years. I would not have done anything different and I do not find it strange to have done it. It was a pure act of love on both my part and our son’s part. It was our last act of honor to him.

Over the last 11 months we have found many ways to honor Mike. He now walks with us and we know he is near. For me he is slowly fading away. This is not a bad thing it is a healing thing. It is time for me to move forward and he has brought me much healing over the last four months to enable me to do so. He will, however, continue to be with our son until they meet again.

I was honored by Spirit to walk my husband to the gate. It was life changing and intense because so many emotions flowed through me but how beautiful it is to see the one you love embraced by those that have gone before him. My dad was the one that waited for him and met him through the gate. I and everyone around during his death had little doubt who was there to greet him. We all knew, we all felt it.

My point in writing this post was not really to make it about me but rather to share my experience with death. I dance with death daily. She is always present and She is always showing me new things that I have yet to experience. I have a very intimate relationship with Her and I no longer fear Her.

This is the reason for this writing, death is not something to fear. It is not the end it is a new beginning and the more you embrace death the more beauty you find in life. Dancing with death is an experience that many are to afraid to embark on. We are disconnected from the death that surrounds us yet it is truly one of the most beautiful dances one can share.

May your dance with death be filled with the beauty and understanding of the precious life you live.

In Her Service,


Dreaming Again

When hope dies.  When your dreams are destroyed.  What do you do?

A year ago today I saw all of my hopes and dreams die a painful death in a matter of moments.  “No, you are not strong enough to continue chemo.  There is no other treatment.”

Those simple words set me on a journey that literally changed my life.  They weren’t spoken to me, although I was in the room when they were spoken, ultimately they turned my world upside down.

There were dreams to travel.  There were dreams to grow old together.  There were hopes of healing.  The fight was not so long but it felt like an eternity.

The future was no longer “together.”  There would be no future.  We were now living for “moments.”  We were no longer planning for next week, month or year. Instead we were living and dying in each moment of now.

Over the years I have become very familiar with death.  In an up close and personal way.  So many of my friends have left this earth way to soon.  Joey, Grant, John, Reggie, Tony, all to young to die, all gone.  Then there is family, Marvin, Lonnie, Doris, Jesse, Rick, my Dad.  All gone in just a few years.  Death came and they were gone, forever.

All of them hold a special place in my heart.  All of them touched my life in a beautiful, positive way.  Whether they were a part of my life for a short time or years on end, they made a difference by being here.

This time though it was up close and very personal.  This was affecting every little detail of my life.

I thought the world would end when my dad, my hero, died.  The closest I can come to describing the devastation I felt was to compare it to losing my only daughter.  Both of these deaths changed me.  Both tore my heart into pieces that would take years to pick up and heal.  Honestly, I am not sure all of the pieces have been picked up and healed yet.

This time was different.  This time I was losing my best friend, my love, the father to my son, my everything.  I found strength in places I never expected but there were moments when I was not sure I would survive this.

Not only was I losing the man I loved I was losing my way of life.  Nothing would ever be the same.  The hopes and dreams we had together were gone forever.

It is said that everyone grieves differently.  Maybe because the death of someone we love affects us all in different ways.  It is, many times, dependent on who that person was to you and how deeply they touched your life.

My belief is that when you are dealing with a long term illness you begin grieving when the diagnosis is given.  I know I did.  Every day from that moment to the very end, I grieved.

At first we held hope that surgery could be done.  That hope was lost quickly. Then we hoped that chemo would heal – all while it killed – that hope was lost after 2 months.  Then we hoped that alternative treatments would help.  They did in many ways, but unless you are willing to cut the ugliness out of your life there is only so much that can be healed.  He wasn’t willing and ultimately it cost him his life.

At first it was a matter of grieving the things we could no longer do.  We couldn’t just pick up and go anymore.  No more little day trips to our favorite places that we loved so much.  He was to weak and just didn’t have the energy to just go.

Then it was a matter of grieving the man I loved changing.  The man who sighed and rolled his eyes when something annoyed him.  The man who was quick witted and always had a smart ass retort to just about everything.  The man who laughed and smiled at the little, silly things in life.  The man who joked.  The man who loved music and sang.  That man was gone.  Oh, he had his moments until the very end but every day became more of a struggle and every day these attributes slipped away further and further into the ethers.

Towards the end it was a matter of grieving the things he was losing.  His ability to do things for himself.  His ability to have clear thoughts.  His ability to fight for his life.

Watching someone who prided themselves on the way they were able to help others need 24/7 help is difficult.  You can see them die inside every time you have to do the simple things for them.  They are no longer the helper but rather one receiving help and it is a role they have no time to adjust to.  It is humbling.

I grieved for all of the things he was going through. Dying robs you of any pride or dignity you might have while fully living.  Dying with grace is a feat many do not accomplish during a long term illness.  He did.  Each day he would lose the ability to do something else yet he handled it with grace.  That is not to say there was no frustration, there was, but ultimately, he would just let it go.  What beauty it is to watch surrender in motion.  It is a life lesson I intend to never forget.

Grieving is a long, tedious process.  In my world it began over a year ago.  Much has been healed and there is still much to heal.

Dancing with Death so up close and personal is yet another story to tell at a later date.

So what happens when all of your hopes and dreams are destroyed?  You keep breathing. You take time to heal. You trust your God/Goddess/Spirit, whatever you choose to call what you believe in, to lay a new path in front of you.  You do everything within your power to keep putting one foot in front of the other.  You keep your heart open. You learn. You hurt. You let go of the old and embrace the new. You love.  Before you realize it new hopes and dreams begin to come forward. You embrace them. You follow them. You live.

In Her Service,


The Rings


There are days when you can feel your emotions right on the edge.  You know where every little thing threatens to make you cry or brings up an emotion you just weren’t expecting? Today was one of those days for me.

It started with me going through all of my altar stuff.  Dismantling your life is tedious and exhausting work.  It also brings back a ton of memories.  Looking at my altar stuff I found things that were given to me as gifts that I knew I couldn’t part with.  Other things I used as a representation for this or that.  They will mean nothing to anyone but me.  Trying to decide what to get rid of and what to keep is a feat in and of itself.

Then you add two young men who want things that meant something to you for their own altars.  In my previous post I talked about Cerridwen being the Goddess I work most with and on my altar for years I have kept a beautiful glass pig.  My son wanted her.  Then there was an owl for Bloudewedd that Kity wanted.  That doesn’t count the small minute things that each of them claimed as their own.  It is one of those things that you find very kind and sweet.  They want to keep you and your energy near them and at the same time it is difficult to let go of those things that have brought you so much comfort for so many years.

Emotions run high on both sides.  The receiver and the giver.  We all felt it.  It is a way of letting go and preparing for a future that we are all uncertain of but know is necessary. Trepidation, love, laughter and a few feelings of what is really going to happen once the reality sets in and this new beginning actually begins.

And then this happens…

I get ready to head upstairs and I stop at the end of my bed for a moment.  I look over and I see my wedding ring laying there next to Mike’s.  I know immediately what needs to be done.  I pick them up and head upstairs.

The memories come flooding back.  The first time we were married we went for simple gold rings.  The second time he bought me a beautiful Goddess ring and I bought him a celtic type weaved ring.  I ultimately couldn’t wear my ring because it would break my hands out so we opted to go back to the two simple gold rings we had originally.  I wore them for a while after he died, until I couldn’t anymore.  After so many years of wearing them all of a sudden my hand would break out in a terrible rash every time I wore them.  I finally figured that it was his way of telling me to let go and I took them off.  They have sat there together since.


I am standing in the kitchen and I ask Jeremy to come in.  I had already given him the weaved ring a couple of months ago.  I try to make sure that he has things that meant something to his dad to hold onto.  They were so close and Mike’s death has been extremely hard for him.  He lost his best friend the day his dad died, he lost his dad way to young.  They had to many things left to do that will never happen now so the small things are most important now.

Into the kitchen he comes and I ask him to put his pinky finger out.  He does and I put both of our rings on his finger.  He looked at me kind of funny and I asked him if he knew what they were.  He didn’t.  I told him that they are our wedding rings and he immediately cried.  I cried.  Then we laughed.  He told me how small our hands were. The moment was beautiful and now we move on.

I keep telling myself that they are “just rings.” Yet, deep in my heart I know that they are more than “just rings,” they represent a friendship that was true and deep.  They represent a love that was unique and fulfilling.  They represent pain, loss, love, laughter and a life of happiness that ended way to soon.

To the outside eye they are “just rings” but to me they are filled with memories. My only wish now is that our son will make his own memories with them but never forget what they represent in his life.  A mother and a father who love him more than life itself.  Parents who loved and laughed together.  He can add his own memories to them and someday he can share them with his own family. For now, for me, they represent letting go and starting anew.  The memories are sweet, my heart is full and those rings are now our son’s.  The circle of life moves forward.  I am thankful.

Memories & Love

Mike is here today.  He just keeps showing up in everything.  It is not a bad thing, it just brings up so many feelings.  I guess they are feelings I need to let go of.  Sometimes it isn’t so easy to do.  Other times I can identify them and feel them and let them go.  Today it seems to be all about yearning.

A deep yearning to have that companionship, love and understanding back in my life.  I miss having my best friend, the one who knew me as well as I know myself. I miss having those deep, comforting hugs when I am afraid of the changes life is bringing.  I miss having that someone to laugh with.  I miss having someone to share my daily thoughts with.  I miss having someone to love.  I miss having a best friend who is by my side daily. Someone that I trust explicitly.  Someone I know has my back no matter what.  I miss having someone who thinks the sun rises and sets in me, no matter what I look like or how bitchy I am. I miss having someone to cuddle with when I am laying in bed at night.

No matter how much you work on being the “all” to yourself there are still things that as a human you need and/or want.  Overall, we are creatures of comfort and although we can find comfort within and know that we are “enough” we still need and want the scent of another human, the touch, the sound of a soothing voice. We can only transcend so much because we are human.

We were made to love others and in turn to be loved.  I believe we choose to come to this earth to learn to love ourselves, walk in Spirit, and love others.  We give a part of our heart to those that we care about and when they leave us, whether it is by choice, death, a move, whatever the case, they take that part of our heart with them.

We are always right there with them.  Cheering them on, crying beside them or laughing at the silly things life offers.  Whey they die they take that part of our heart that we so freely gave, with them.  I believe that is why for the rest of our lives we can feel them when they are visiting us from the other side.

They show up in many ways, whether they are living and breathing but out on their own adventure or dead.

It can be a song, music fills one’s soul and most often you can hear a song and it will flood you with memories.  Memories of a person, a place, or a time in your life.

It can be a smell.  How many times have you smelled a flower, perfume, cologne, a certain food and the memory of an individual comes to mind?  It happens daily and very seldom do we give it much thought.

It can be a place.  A place you shared with someone.  An event that happened at a specific location. To this day when I hear about or see a coroner’s office I think of my best friend Sue and a guy named Chris. A ride in a jeep where we took the corner on 2 wheels, 2 autopsies, vicks vapor rub, popcorn and oatmeal as well as a breakfast at the Bluff’s before the events of the day.  Most of all I remember the love shared between friends.

The memory of this day brings on many more memories, memories of 26 years of steady, true friendship.  Marriages, divorces, babies being born, burying a child, father and husband, graduation from the sheriff’s department, Alzheimers, birthday parties, fighting cancer, phone calls, laughter, tears.  A deep abiding knowing that no matter where we are in life, no matter where the other is in location, we are always there, by the others side, loving each other and always just a phone call away.  Why?  Because we gave each other a piece of our heart. We share love.

There are many different types of love.  How we love, who we love, doesn’t really matter.  What matters is that we came and we loved.  We give it our all and when we leave, we leave a part of us with those we deemed worthy to share our hearts with.

Go give your heart and love to someone today.  It will change your life and theirs. Go make a difference in this world.  Love someone.

This thing called life…

Let me start by saying I walk a shamanic path.  I have been following a pagan path for over twenty years and a few years ago everything shifted.  I was called out by the powers that be and in turn my world shifted along with how I do things.  It isn’t that there is such a large stretch to go from one path to the other but it seems that there is a large group of people that just have an issue with the word shaman.  So here I am following my shamanic path, if you don’t like it, oh well, it is what it is but ultimately it works for me on more levels than you can imagine.

With that out of the way, this last year has been a rough, heartbreaking, liberating, growing, in your face type of year for me.  It started with my husband going through chemo and fighting cancer, then losing the battle (do you really lose a battle or do you just move onto something better?) and me walking him over to the other side.

I am blessed because that is my greatest calling on this path, walking others over to the other side. It just happened one day and here I am, showing up and doing this whether I wanted to or not.  I think of it as a deep, abiding gift that Spirit bestows on me.  How could I not?  I mean, seriously, holding someone’s hand, hearing their final messages for their loved one’s, telling them how very loved they are, seeing them walk through that gate, knowing that their soul just went to pure love, how could that not be considered a gift? Believe me it is heart wrenching and beautiful all at once.  Especially when it is someone you truly love.

Onto today.  A couple of months ago I found an old love.  He tore my heart out and rocked my world in ways that I never thought possible.  It was a gift.  How can so much pain be a gift?  It was a gift because his actions forced me to grieve.  When Mike died I just didn’t.  I had to be strong for everyone around me.  I had to be strong to just get through my days.  Don’t get me wrong, I cried, a lot!  But I didn’t really grieve all that I had lost.  My best friend, my way of life, his laughter, his smile, all of the things that just made him, him and us, us.  I just didn’t.

Here I am 7 months later and I can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel.  The pain is beyond words.  I don’t want to get out of bed.  I don’t want to eat.  Hell, I am not even sure I want to live anymore.  All because one person walked in and made me dream again.  One person made me laugh again.  One person brought me hope that somewhere out in this world there was still love.  Then that one person threw it all away. It opened all of my wounds up, the loss of my sons, my daughter, so many that I have loved and lost, my husband, what I perceived as my life. It hurt like nothing I have ever experienced before.  I do not think that I have ever cried as much as I cried those three weeks.  I don’t think I have known such pain, ever.

Grieving is not for sissy’s!  Real grief doesn’t just go away.  You just learn to live with it.  You learn to befriend it and find ways that you can walk with it rather than through it.  I learned this while grieving for my husband, the old love, the life I no longer have and the life I thought I would have.  Promises broken.  Grief shows up.  Life stops for a moment and then it starts to move again.

One day I woke up and had this all engulfing vision of me leaving.  Being who I am my first thought was “I don’t ever run so why would I run?” But that wasn’t it. Each day that all engulfing vision filled my soul, over and over again.  It just wouldn’t go away.  I could see it as clearly as I see my hands typing these words. I did what I always do, I took it to Spirit.  All was confirmed.  I was to leave, hit the road jack and don’t ya come back.  A new adventure!

That has been a couple of months or so now and I can’t say that I don’t waiver or that I don’t doubt.  I wake up some mornings and think “Oh my Goddess what the hell am I doing?  I am leaving everything and everyone I love behind to get into my car and just drive.  No destination, no real plans.  Just go!?”

I was talking to a friend of mine the other day. She so wisely pointed out that I was not leaving everyone I love behind but rather going to see other people I love and share some of my time with them.  I can’t tell you how comforting that thought was and still is.

On the mornings that I wake up with doubt I sit with it.  I try to understand why the doubt is there.  This morning I realized that part of this is in the “letting go” of what I thought and hoped my life would be.  The other part is just me being human and as another friend pointed out this morning it is also “ego” wanting to stay in it’s comfort zone.

We get so wrapped up in our lives.  We have our families, our children, our friends.  We never want to lose any of them.  We hold onto our lives out of fear that we may lose someone or something.  We get stuck in our own little worlds.  We never want anything to change.  Our jobs are secure so we do the same things day in and day out and we call it living.  I know I did.  When Mike was still alive our lives were filled with love, laughter and a bit of normalcy.  Then he died and nothing felt right anymore.  We moved to a new house.  We have done everything we can to find “normal” again.  Then I realized that normal is not where I need to be.

I need to expand.  I need my heart to feel the mountains, oceans, trees, the dirt under my feet and the road under my wheels. I need those moments that take my breath away, like when I went to Oregon and on the drive there I saw the wonder of nature and Spirit. I need to see people that I love and care for, nurture those friendships and love them in ways I can’t from afar.  Hug them. laugh with them and just be.  I need to let Spirit guide me fully and in all things just as I have for what feels like forever.

This is no longer a “want” it is a deep seeded “need.”  It is a demand from Spirit to learn to be me again and to let life happen on it’s own terms.  I will find me in ways that I didn’t know existed.  I will open myself up more than I dreamed possible.  These are the things I am shown.  Yet, I am human and this thing we call life says that I am crazy and doubt seeps in.  I refuse to let it take control.  So here I go on an adventure that there is no destination to.  Here I go trusting that all will be exactly what it is suppose to be and I will be led to be exactly where I am suppose to be at the right moment.  Here I go learning to live, love, and laugh again.  Here I go living this thing we call life.

In a few months life is changing and I am embracing it to the fullest!  I just have to get the “normal” stuff taken care of first.  In the mean time I am loving those that are here and being me each moment of each day.  This thing called life is such a remarkable journey, don’t you think?