Owl Medicine

Sacred Space – Day Forty Six

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Sacred Space

Wow.

When I woke up this morning, I was not, shall we say, “rarin’ to go.” I even asked Karl to take my temperature, as I felt like a furnace and thought my bedclothes might spontaneously combust. We’ll never know, since we don’t actually own a regular, old-fashioned thermometer anymore. We only have one of those stupid electronic ones that take a watch battery or something, which of course was clearly not operating correctly, since I’m pretty sure I’m not 94.6 degrees.

I had to rally, though. I had an appointment with a client, from whom I’d sensed some trepidation in the weeks beforehand as we’d exchanged emails setting it up. I could feel that the client was both eager to have the session, yet at the same time was feeling some anxiety as the appointment approached. And I’d sensed, just ‘from afar,’ that she might be second-guessing herself over the past couple of days.

I know that feeling well. It almost always precedes a breakthrough or an opportunity to let go of a way of being or thinking that has in many ways defined us for a long period of time. It’s natural – a part of human nature. Of course I’ve witnessed it in clients many times. But I’ve also felt it personally. I’m no stranger to jumping off cliffs myself.

So unless I was literally unable to function, I was determined to get to my office. (I should hasten to assure you that, had I felt I would somehow be contagious or a danger to my client, I definitely would have stayed home). But basically, I just felt crappy. I could see it in my eyes when I peered at myself in the bathroom mirror. They were gray, and a bit dull.

To Cancel or Not to Cancel

Karl suggested maybe I should cancel.

“No,” I countered, popping two Advil and a Sudafed. “I’m going to give it a try.”

Deep down, I was confident I had an ace in the hole. The truth is, I’d experienced the miraculous effects of this secret ally before, but at the same time, I did not want to assume it would happen this time – and make an affirmative statement about it. I’m leery of making assumptions, probably because they feel disrespectful. So I left with an attitude of “I will show up for my client, and hope Spirit shows up for me.”

My secret ally is Sacred Space. It is the nearly indescribable but unquestionably palpable shift in energy that occurs when I call in my allies, guardians, and guides, as well as the archetypal energies associated with the cardinal directions, Mother Earth, and All That Is (Above).

Creating Sacred Space is probably the most amazing thing I ‘do,’ and yet it has nothing to do with me. It has everything to do with the unseen, creative, magnificent forces that watch over and guide all of us. It is the healing space where miracles occur spontaneously and easily. It is the safest and most comforting place to simply be. And I knew if I could get myself to the office and create this Sacred Space, not only would I feel better, but my client, too, would discover the peace that comes from simply experiencing and being within it.

Sacred Space Saved the Day

I trusted what I know about Sacred Space. And the only way I know is through experience.

Our session was long. Our work went deep. My client has lived a life of challenges and heartache. But we prevailed.

I forgot about how crappy I’d felt when I awakened this morning. Indeed, when I texted Karl after completing the session, his first question was to ask how I felt. “I’m a little tired, I guess,” was my response.

I’d completely forgotten my morning malaise. Sacred Space had shifted and transmuted everything – for both my client and myself. We’d both broken through.

(T-1065)

Resistance – Day Forty Two

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Resistance

I hate being faced with my glaring deficiencies; resistance being one of them.

Sometimes they just walk up and stand in front of me, though, and no matter what I do, I can’t get around them.

One of those that’s staring me down at the moment is a resistance to marketing. Marketing myself in any way, for anything, primarily. But marketing in general is always a persistently vexing subtext.

I might as well speak substance, since I don’t have a big window tonight: I’ve been invited to participate in the I AM Winter Solstice Symposium, arranged and produced by my friend, Renee Baribeau. Renee is the author of Winds of Spirit, which was published by Hay House this past spring.

I AM Winter Solstice Symposium 2018

Renee did our interview ahead of time. Mine airs tomorrow. The entire program began on Thursday evening, with an opening Fire Ceremony in honor and celebration of the Solstice. I dropped the ball by not sending out an announcement about the Symposium to my Hoot List several days ago, a lapse which I really must rectify tonight, if possible.

The problem is, beyond (or perhaps in tandem with) my resistance to marketing is my reluctance to get knee deep into technological endeavors, such as trying to figure out how to insert into a Hoot Alert the graphics Renee so generously provides me.

Seriously, I should have this stuff figured out by now.

Join the Wind Clan on Facebook

So let me just say this now: My presentation is airing tomorrow (Christmas Eve) at 1:00 p.m. EST. In order to access it, you need to join the Wind Clan on FB at this link. (And if I haven’t figured out how to add that link before I have to hit <publish> on this post, please check out my Hoot Alert, which I intend to write and get sent out before I go to bed tonight!)

Above and beyond my presentation, though (the subject of which will not surprise you if you’ve been reading these 1111 Devotion posts), are the presentations of 17 amazing women with unique and inspiring messages and suggestions for making your life a little bit richer, creative, and sacred.

Join us! And help me push past this resistance to marketing by enjoying my offering. Who knows what inspiration awaits!

(T-1069)

Where are the Close Encounters Now? – Day Forty One

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Where are the Close Encounters Now?

We just finished watching Close Encounters of the Third Kind.

I remember watching it at a movie theater when it came out. As we watched it tonight, I was transported back to the days when I was in college, and then first married.

Watching that movie in 2018 yet remembering what it was like to live in 1977, I was shocked. Yes, our computers are light-years beyond what we had at our fingertips back then. And yes, today there would probably be just as many women as men scientists involved in such a rendezvous (let’s hope).

But I was stunned to consider just how precious little we seem to have succeeded in exploring more deeply into space on a personal level in the past 41 years.

Think of it – forty one years! Shouldn’t we be at least communicating and establishing relationships with other civilizations by now? Or have a base on Mars or Venus or both?

We landed a human on the moon in 1969. I was ten years old.

When my mother was ten years old, in 1927, Lindbergh flew across the ocean.

Forty Two Years

There were only 42 years between having the technology to fly across the ocean and having the technology to not only fly to the moon, but also successfully land on it, and return to tell about it!

So, really –  it makes me question just what the heck we’ve been doing these past 42 years. It seems we’ve lost our way. Our curiosity as a country appears to have lost its focus on great scientific innovation and exploration of the natural world, in particular the universe (and multiverse), and turned instead to navel gazing and wondering how we can exploit the Earth most effectively to earn a small amount of people more money than they could ever imagine spending.

I know innovative research is still taking place. But I also know that there seems to be a lack of communal vision of working toward new horizons. Not to conquer, but to discover. Not to exploit, but to explore.

Is it just me, or were you hoping we’d be way further along the road to astonishing new discoveries, vistas, and opportunities by now?

Then again, I have my experiences of living my now to compare to the ‘reality’ depicted of every day life in the U.S. in 1977 (based upon the movie). They made fun of parapsychology in the movie. I have my degree in Psychology and made the mistake of mentioning parapsychology to the grad student I was a research assistant for as an undergrad. She ripped my head off when I even mentioned the word ‘parapsychology’ (and my interest in it).

And yet…look at me now. What I do. My education level. How I am of service to others.

Are the shamanic journeys I’ve learned to take the actual mode of exploration that’s going to shift the evolution of our world? Not what I would have thought, but think of the possibilities of uniting science and shamanism.

(T-1070)

Alchemy (Frenchtown, NJ) – Day Thirty Nine

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A Local Treasure

My favorite place to buy eclectic, eye-catching, and beautiful clothes is a shop called Alchemy, in Frenchtown, New Jersey. I’ve been shopping at this local treasure for quite some time – around 15 years, if I’m not mistaken. The owner, Cleo Sharplin, and her husband, Barry, bring artistry and visionary appreciation for color and unique cuts and fabrics to the Delaware River Valley, where I live.

In early November, I introduced my daughter-in-law to the treasures at Alchemy. I was sure Cleo would be able to find something amazing for her to wear to an event that was on the horizon. Based on my rave reviews, Tiffany was eager to meet Cleo and experience her ‘eye’ and perspective and the way she could ‘put things together.’

We were devastated to discover that Cleo had recently taken a serious fall down some steps in her home and was hospitalized with some dislocations and broken bones – including some vertebrae in her neck. Her recovery was looking scary and extended, and we could see the extreme concern and worry in Barry’s eyes as he described her condition.

Keeping It Together

For his part, in an effort to maintain normalcy, Barry was taking time from his own job to keep the store open, while visiting and staying by Cleo’s bedside when not at the store.

After making our purchases, we assured him that we would keep both of them in our hearts and hope for the best in her recovery.

Since that visit, I have thought of them often. Every time I’d go to New Jersey to put gas in my car, I would drive by Alchemy, wishing I’d gone at a time when the store was open.

Over the past week or so, both Cleo and Barry started popping into my thoughts on a much more frequent basis. I felt a twinge that I didn’t want to admit. And I kept thinking I needed to physically stop in and bring them something, some token to remind them that they really were in my thoughts – that I hadn’t just mouthed the words while at the store to shop.

The urge grew insistent this week. Indeed, yesterday I became a bit aggravated with the way my life became dictated by others’ demands, because I’d really thought I was going to get over to check in with Barry that day.

Finally, today, in spite of the pouring rain and dismal, 37 degree chill in the air, I made a point of getting myself to Frenchtown. With a few small gifts (I figured some delectable chocolate from Pierre’s in New Hope could bring a smile) and a card, I entered the store. I saw Barry in the back of the store, and went directly to him. I re-introduced myself, assuming he wouldn’t necessarily remember me from a few weeks earlier. But I also immediately launched into asking after Cleo’s condition.

Unexpected Diagnosis

His face said it all. I gasped, and whispered, “She didn’t pass away, did she?” No, she hadn’t, admitted Barry. But just last night he’d received word of a devastating – and completely unexpected – diagnosis.

All I could do was hug him. And hug him some more.

The whole time I’ve known Cleo and Barry, they’ve been a unit. Best friends. The love and chemistry has always been palpable.

Barry and Cleo will know more of what to expect in the days to come. I promised I would check in on them next week. In the meantime, Barry is faced with some profound and life-altering decisions regarding many things, not least being the fate of Cleo’s beloved Alchemy.

Facing the Future – How You Can Help

My point in writing this post today is this: If you have the need for an amazing outfit, ranging from something for the most elegant soiree to an evening at home (think New Year’s Eve!), please stop by Alchemy. He needs to move their inventory. I believe there is a 30% storewide discount, as well.

This is a win-win situation: you will find something cool that no one else will be wearing (and everyone will enviously notice and comment upon) and you will be helping out a wonderful pair of lovely human beings who are facing huge and terrifying transformation in every area of their lives.

There are many items there that would also make great gifts.

If you have the means, I urge you: Show a little love to this sweet, creative couple. Let them know we are a village – and connected in perhaps the most miraculous ways.

Alchemy Clothing – 17 Bridge Street – Frenchtown, NJ – 08825

(T-1072)

Owl Medicine & Akashic Records – Day Thirty Eight

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Searching for a Chapter

Earlier today I found myself taking a harder look at my book, Owl Medicine, than I have in, well, years. By which I mean I actually cracked it open and started reading from it, as opposed to just looking at its cover.

I was searching for a specific chapter in which I discern the deeper meaning of a dream I’d had by reading in the Medicine Cards’ book about an animal that appeared in that dream. At the time, I thought I had a pretty good grasp of what the dream was showing me. But when I read the actual text in that book, I was astonished by the synchronistic use of certain words that were so obviously linked to the details of my dream that it was akin to Spirit bonking me on the head.

It’s important to remember that, when I describe how I marveled at that time about the specificity of the text and the apparent ‘message’ of my dream, I had only just started using the Medicine Cards. They were not a regular part of Karl’s and my daily routine. They were simply a neat set of oracle cards that played a part in helping me figure out what in the heck my discovery of a dead Great Horned Owl meant.

Anyway, as I was searching for that specific chapter, I obviously had occasion to once again read snippets of my story, as I was searching for something quite specific. Quite fortuitously, this reminded me of a correction – or rather, explanation – I’ve wanted to publicly make with respect to my book for quite some time.

Etheric Translator or ‘ET’

Specifically, there are a couple of references in Owl Medicine as to the great skill of my mentor/teacher at that time as an ‘Etheric Translator.’ Those of you who have read the book may have wondered what the heck an Etheric Translator (or ‘ET’) is, as you’d undoubtedly never heard of it prior to reading my book. That’s because I made the term up.

It’s not an inaccurate term. In fact, it’s an excellent definition of someone who reads the Akashic Records, which is what my teacher did. And still does, as far as I know. (Although I haven’t looked for her, to tell the truth, so I really can’t say.) And if you don’t know why that might be, you really should read the book.

Correcting the Record

I’ve long felt I wanted to correct the record, so to speak, and make it clear that a so-called Etheric Translator is actually someone who reads the Akashic Records. It feels important, somehow, that people understand what I was actually referring to when I called her an ET.

The reason I did it was this: When Owl Medicine was going to print, the internet and ‘Google’ were really just getting off the ground as far as the regular public was concerned. I did an internet search of the term Akashic Records and – lo and behold – there was my teacher, front and center, at the top or close to the top of recommended readers.

Given the nature of my experiences as described in my book, I did not want anyone to even remotely guess who she was or make any connections to her by doing such a search. This was true even though I changed her name.

In the intervening years, the explosion of interest in all things esoteric has resulted in hundreds of people becoming adept at reading the Akashic Records, and a plethora of books and articles have been written on the subject. I did a search tonight and did not find her appearing in any of the top search pages.

Hence, I am hereby letting people know that I am not some doofus who didn’t know what the Akashic Records are really called. I called a person who reads them an Etheric Translator because I wanted to assure the anonymity of my first and probably most influential teacher.

(T-1073)

Tested to Trust – Day Thirty Seven

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Tested to Trust

I find myself tested this evening. Tested to trust that it is time to share with all of you a topic that’s popped into my head at least a couple of times recently and asked to be shared.

Funny thing is, it begs to be shared, yet I worry that, by sharing it, I will dilute its power and effectiveness.  Quite the conundrum, I suppose.

Starting With a Blank Slate

I’ve discussed in other posts how I’ve gradually embraced the practice of actively eschewing ‘knowing too much’ about my clients before having a session with them. Remarkably, to my mind, I’ve found that the less I know intellectually about a person before a session, the more ‘blank’ my slate is with respect to them – hence, I can sit in Sacred Space with a person and allow their story to unfold without any preconceptions.

My sense, as I’ve allowed this practice to deepen in the 15 or so years that I’ve been engaging in shamanic work on behalf of other people (i.e., not just for myself), is that this is a rare experience for a client indeed.

No preconceptions. No chart or notes to review. No test results. No referral slip.

Just us. Just us and the cocoon of energy and palpable comfort and support that comes with the arrival of invisible allies, ancestors, guardians, and guides.

Usually, upon listening to the interweaving of my client’s life experiences, I detect the thread that’s appeared in one way or another, in and out of their life at various times, and which now either needs to be removed altogether or at the very least transmuted.

I can attest to the joy and astonishment I feel each and every time I see the light dancing in my client’s eyes at the conclusion of a session. I never take for granted that the ‘magic’ will happen with this client. (Any client.) Because in truth, I have no control over what happens in a session. Oh yeah, I control the outward stuff: I’m the one who opens Sacred Space, who establishes a sense of safety and confidentiality with my client. I set the tone by explaining that they can ‘start anywhere’ in the process of telling me about themselves – and reassure (or is it terrify?) them that we will ‘go everywhere.’

And I can use the skills I’ve developed and cultivated – probably all my life (and in many others, I suspect) – to hone in on that thread that holds the recurring pattern that now yearns to be addressed and is the reason my client was urged to set up an appointment with me in the first place.

When the Magic Really Happens

But really and truly? The magic happens when they stop talking and I go into another mode altogether. I stop talking, too – at least, as Lisa.

It’s not that I can’t hear myself speaking (when and if I do, which is never the same from one session to the next) when I begin the actual shamanic aspect of the session. I can. But it feels like it is coming from somewhere else.

And I’ve learned that I need to write down as much as I can – whether it be what I am speaking out loud or, more often, what I am being shown or told just outside or on the edge of this reality – because very similar to having a powerful dream that you think you will never forget, the sights, the sounds, the stories that I’ve experienced rapidly disperse like a wisp of smoke at session’s end.

Tested to Trust – a Leap of Faith

Each and every time I ‘move my client to the floor’ (which means we conclude our conversation on the comfortable chairs and couches in my office and my client joins me on the floor, face-to-face, initially, to work with the stones in my mesa) it is a leap of faith. It is placing my trust in Spirit to guide me on how best to work together with my client’s soul to effect the shift or healing in their life that is for their highest good.

Wow, once again, I started out intending to write about one thing, and something else obviously wanted to be expressed. Indeed – that’s sort of what I intended to write about to begin with!

Wait, what?

(T-1074)

Tampering – Day Thirty Five

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Tampering 

Yesterday I described my particular ethical standards when it comes to doing energy work on clients (or anyone for that matter), including activity as seemingly simple as directing my energy or intention ‘toward’ someone with a specific intention, such as ‘prayer.’ Simply put, without the express permission of the intended recipient, I believe engaging in such behavior is ‘tampering.’

Quite honestly? I look around nowadays and I listen to what is said and done in the name of Gods, Sons of Gods, other people’s Higher Powers, and all sorts of belief systems (and non-belief systems), and I am appalled at how so many people inflict their beliefs and their judgments about what is ‘good’ or ‘bad’ or ‘should’ or ‘shouldn’t’ happen in certain situations on other people all the time.

I distinctly remember the first time I encountered and saw first hand the actual harm this could do to a person without them even realizing it. This was many years ago and a friend of mine had suffered an extensive and life-threatening brain injury. His loved ones sent out a blanket request  for prayers, Reiki, distance-healing modalities of any and all kinds to be ‘sent’ to my friend as he lay prone in his hospital bed.

As it happened, I’d been receiving specific healing training and had been working on establishing a working relationship with Spirit and my allies for a couple of years, but was essentially using my knowledge for my own personal growth and understanding. (Never did I ever, at that point, envision myself doing what I do now.)

But even in my earliest days of metaphysical education some 15 years earlier (about 35 years ago now), I had been schooled in the tenet that directing energy toward or on behalf of someone without their express permission is a form of tampering, and therefore an abuse of power.

I was surprised when my friend requested that I come to the hospital Intensive Care Unit to see him; and I was even more surprised when the staff seemed to just assume that I was supposed to be there. No one questioned me. They looked me in the eye, they smiled, and they allowed me to simply ‘be’ in his room with him. Because of the nature and severity of his injury, he was barely conscious; slipping in and out of awareness, which made the fact that he’d literally said my name to his partner and asked for me to come to his bedside even harder to comprehend.

Opening Sacred Space

But I did. And I had no idea what I ‘should’ do or how I could be of assistance. So I stood at his bedside, and when he opened his eyes, said I was there and asked if I could open Sacred Space around him. I saw a glimmer in his eyes and the slightest nod, so I did so. Quietly. Discreetly. And I sat with him and just held space. I did not ‘pray’ or even hope for any particular outcome (and the prognosis at that time was very dismal – even if he survived, his quality of life might be horribly compromised).

After about 90 minutes (an eternity in an ICU – and another small blessing), I left – advising my friend that I was going to leave Sacred Space ‘open’ around him, so he would feel safe, loved, and protected.

Later that evening and for a few days after that, I noticed and heard about the continued cascade of prayers and assorted healing energies bombarding my friend. Almost all that he survive, that he pull through, etc. I wanted to scream.

The day after I opened Sacred Space around him, I was told that the doctors were astonished by his improvement, and he was moved to a Critical Care unit. About five days later, he asked for me again, so I went.

Installing Protection

He was in worse shape, to my eyes, when I saw him that day. (Again, though, I was almost welcomed by the staff – and definitely afforded privacy and respect. It was weird.) He seemed to be writhing in pain, and I was a bit freaked out that no one seemed to be noticing or doing anything for him.

I’d been taught a form of protection I could ‘install’ into a person’s energy field that would protect them from the unconsciousness of others (even if well-meaning). And as I sat by his bedside, I brought this up. As I did so, I delicately asked if he knew that he was very loved and basically a bazillion people were ‘sending’ him all sorts of prayers and energy and stuff at the request of his partner. He nodded. I asked if maybe he was feeling bombarded by it all; and that maybe even some of it was interfering with his own soul’s intentions or desires – or making it hard for him to know how and whether to heal. He nodded.

I asked if he would like me to install this protection. He nodded.

So I did. And before my eyes, it was like night and day. He settled down, the appearance of bombardment seemed to lessen dramatically, and within minutes, he fell asleep.

I – was – astounded.

He continued to flourish and healed better and faster than his emergency surgeons could have hoped.

Understand this: I do not claim to have had any impact in this situation other than, at most, providing a calming influence. But he and I both realized the immediate response that he felt when I installed (with his permission) a barrier between him and all of the varied intentions of a myriad of people, many of whom undoubtedly were invoking requests for very specific outcomes.

My point? It very well could have been his time to make his transition. It may have been his soul’s intention to experience life with substantial residual disabilities. And it may have been his soul’s intention to experience a remarkable – almost magical – recovery. Whatever…it was his choice.

This went way too long. But I hope it gives you some idea of why we need to just. send. love.

Anything else would be tampering.

(T-1076)

Permission – Day Thirty Four

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 Permission

 Permission. It’s an interesting concept, and securing it in my work is something I take very much to heart. But before I even get to the point where I would seek permission to do anything on behalf of a client, I stop myself – and the client – from getting there prematurely.

It has been my practice since early on in my shamanic work to make a point of not ‘reaching out’ to a client in any way before a session. In a regular, every day sense, that means that I prefer not to receive emails from them that contain details of their lives or the possible issues or difficulties they may be facing that caused them to make an appointment with me.

A corollary to that, which I’ve found intriguing but not entirely sure whether it was ‘real’ or not, was the sense that I should not even ‘think’ about my client ahead of our session. Not in a ‘block them from my mind in every way’ type of sense, but rather a feeling that I shouldn’t reach out to them energetically  (using a combination of my mind and my feelings, is sort of the best way I can describe it). And the sense that tells me that I should not reach out in such a way is two fold:

First, if I reach out to get a bead on what is at the foundation of how they’re feeling or what is going on with them, I could totally misread or put my own spin on things. This is especially true, obviously, if they have succeeded in making contact with me enough to have spilled in an email or whatever some details of what they’re dealing with or why they feel they need a session. And let me tell you, as a die-hard problem-solver, it almost used to reach addiction-level temptation to want to ‘suss out’ as much information as possible before a session. Or even just ‘get a sense’ of what their underlying stuff might entail.

But that’s ego. That’s thinking I somehow ‘know’ a lot more than I actually do, and it’s also a place where experience can lead to arrogance in the blink of an eye. It’s thinking I can figure things out ahead of time that can really lead me astray.

Manipulating Energy Without Permission – Even With the Best of Intentions – is Wrong

Second, though, is an even a greater risk, and that has to do with the concept of tampering or working one’s will in a situation; manipulating energy – or in some way intervening in a situation, even with the ‘best of intentions’ – without another person’s express permission . In other words, if I reach out energetically beforehand and happen to sense their malady (or what I perceive  to be their issue, which again, could be spot on or could be my intellect trying to ‘figure it out’), I might be tempted  to do something that I ‘think’ could ease their pain or even ‘fix’ an issue right then and there. Remotely, or from afar. And that would be wrong.

Those of you who have studied with me or done any work of your own beyond ‘just’ having a session with me know what a stickler I am about this aspect of energy work. I firmly believe in securing the express permission of anyone with or for whom I’m asked to help out in any way. Considered odd by many, I also extend that to ‘prayer,’ and ‘sending’ Reiki (just using this as an example – I am not a Reiki practitioner), or doing anything energetically on behalf of another. Personally, I do not feel it is right to ever assume that I know what is right or appropriate for a person to receive.

Permission from Parents or Guardians, too

And I’m persnickety about that permission, too. For instance, I do not subscribe to the ‘my soul asked their soul and they said it’s ok’ school of thought if, say, a person is unconscious or in a coma. If that’s the case, I then seek to secure the permission of the one who is charged with making care or treatment decisions for the person on the physical plane as well.

This is true in the case of a person ‘of tender age,’ too, so even with a child, I not only take great pains not to ‘check things out ahead of time,’ but I also make sure the parent or guardian has given me permission to work on the child as well.

I had two interesting experiences just this week that pertained to the issue of permission. But before I could even discuss them here, it felt important to explain my perspective and how I approach my work.

Sometimes it’s really, really hard not to step in and do what ‘feels’ right. But not without permission.

(T-1077)

Familiars – Day Thirty Three

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Familiars

I need to admit something. I just fell asleep. Well, actually, I just woke up after accidentally falling asleep, and realize I have precious little time left to write my post this evening.

My pup, Spartacus, hopped into my lap about an hour ago, tucked himself into the nooks and crannies of my crossed legs, and fell asleep. When he fell asleep, the weight of his muscular Boston Terrier body settled in and he snuggled deeper and deeper. He sighed, and I could tell he was descending into his version of the dreamtime.

The funny thing is, I’ve been looking forward to writing this post all day. Not ‘this’ post specifically, obviously, since this clearly does not have a distinct point or purpose. But I found myself looking forward to reaching out and connecting in this fascinatingly compelling relationship I feel we’re engaging in.

I know some of you are reading my words, somewhere, be it in minutes, hours, or years from now, and I just love that sense. I can’t explain it. That sense of even one other person besides myself reading what I happen to share on this tiny piece of machinery in my lap (which has succeeded in ousting my deliciously warm, loving pup) is…magical.

Familiar? Or Connection?

I started out thinking I would write about my ‘familiars’ ~ my four legged family members who station themselves in such a way as to make me dance around them almost relentlessly, yet are such profound fonts of unconditional love and enthusiastic adoration. But now I’m thinking about you, my readers.

Hmm, what is the connection here? Maybe that’s precisely what it is: connection. With my pups and my kitties, the connection is, naturally, physical. There are words involved, but it’s debatable just how much they actually understand. Sure, they comprehend my tone and probably even facial expressions to an extent, and they certainly can ‘read’ the energy emanating from my entire body, mind, and spirit.

And then there is my connection with those of you who care enough to read my words. But our only connection, really, are those words. There is no shared eye contact, no touch, no warm hugs.

And yet, we’re connected. And it matters, to me at least, that you are there. Receiving my outreach, even if it’s only via words.

Thank you.

(T-1078)

Losing Trust – Day Thirty

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Losing Trust

If you’d asked me this morning what I would be writing about this evening, trust – or more accurately, losing trust , would not have been top of my list. Not to say trust doesn’t figure prominently in my life; it does. I just wouldn’t have thought I’d be bringing the topic up again quite so quickly since my last post about it.

But here it is, the clock is ticking relentlessly toward the witching hour, and I have only just now managed to get to my MacBook Air (not my Dell, notably!) to write this post.

Trust me (no pun intended), this will not be a long one.

Losing Trust Makes Us Feel Vulnerable and Foolish

Part of my agitation in writing this particular entry is that I happened upon information this evening, out there on the “internets,” that caused me to feel as though the floor had dropped out from under me.

No, I didn’t catch my husband cheating or doing anything nefarious, nor did I discover anything horrible about any of my sons or loved ones that would wreck my world. Or at least my world view.

But I did discover something that made me question a very close business relationship. It made me feel vulnerable and foolish, for if the appearance of what I discovered turned out to be true in its most obvious sense, then I’d been betrayed.

Levels of Trust

Which makes me contemplate the different levels of trust we accord various factions of people who cross our path in life. There are, of course, those who occupy the ‘inner circle.’ Parents, siblings, spouses/partners, children. We usually demand the greatest loyalty from them because they are either blood – or so close to blood they might as well be. When trust is broken in those relationships, we react in a certain manner, depending upon the level of egregiousness.

The next level is comprised of close, deep friends, and perhaps business associates with whom we have a partnership, similar to a sibling or marital relationship, but not necessarily quite as profound. In some cases, I think we may be more profoundly devastated by a breach of trust in this situation than in the first level, because for the most part we’ve chosen these people to be part of our world.

Then there are people with whom we interact on a transactional, day-to-day level. This can be people with whom we work or friends who actually are more acquaintances than anything else, but are perhaps vying for entry into the next level of relationship. Trust in these situations can pervade the relationship, yet not necessarily be needed or warranted. It may be granted, but not be required in order for the relationship to succeed.

And then there are the people with whom we interact on a superficial basis. We basically do not even need to assess the level of trust they deserve, for trust is not an inherent aspect of why we are interfacing with them.

Tonight I experienced what I perceived as a breach of trust of a relationship in the second highest level. It’s interesting, because the person whom I perceived may have ‘sold me out,’ so to speak, I have never met in person, yet actually have cultivated an extremely deep level of trust with and in over the past ten years or so.

Ten years is a long time. And I trust (man, that word – and concept – keeps popping up) my instincts, not only in the short term, as in the sense I get when I first meet a person and make eye contact with them, but also in the long term. I truly believe that one of the gifts of my ‘Owl Medicine’ is to be able to discern the true nature of people accurately. Usually with pinpoint accuracy.

If There’s Trust in a Relationship, Then It Deserves a Chance

So when confronted with the possibility of betrayal, of discovering that someone in whom I had placed great trust on many levels, had possibly sold me out for what was undoubtedly a paltry sum (in consideration of the value of my trust, which is considerable, if I do say so myself), I spoke up. I asked. I confronted – in disbelief, and in the hope that I was somehow misperceiving what I’d discovered – but with conviction that I required clarity.

And I received a response. Quickly. With apparent sincerity, and with what I trust (*) will justify my deep caring for the person and relationship in question.

And with that, I must post this. I truly and sincerely hope my trust is warranted, for otherwise, I will be deeply saddened. And pissed.

(T-1081)