When Is It A Good Time To Be An Empath?

For an empath, probably all of the time, but lately, being an empath has become almost debilitating.

There are some empaths who struggle to be in public places because they constantly absorb other people's energies and that is paralyzing for them. For me, for the most part, I am able to manage those interactions so that I can function socially. Of course, then I need to retreat, clear out, and recharge and then I can go back out and face the world again.

For as long as I can remember, I feel other people's experiences. I can hear a story and it's not just relating that affects me, it's as if I am in that person's shoes. I think it's why I don't care for violent or sad movies (truth be told, I don't watch many movies anyway), or movies with animals or children. Despite them being fiction, the possibility of another's suffering hits me hard and deep.

On top of this, I have a blunt sense of right and wrong, often much to the chagrin of others. Over the years, I've been working to integrate a gray area in this duality, but I am a fierce defender of those upon whom an injustice has been inflicted.

Back in the early 90s, I chased a claim of sexual harassment toward a young woman in my office all the way up to corporate counsel of one of the largest accounting firms in the world because it wouldn't stop and I was not going to let her leave her job because of it. I filed a complaint with the supervisor of a Department of Labor auditor who sat in front of me and told me my records were wrong because there was no way a woman named Alicia Anderson living in that neighborhood was white. I spoke up for the young couple who were visibly disturbed by service they received but didn't have the tools to rectify the situation. I got on the phone with an office in Wyoming who mistreated an Eastern Indian woman on my team most certainly because of her name and accent. I called animal control and worked with the sheriff to be sure a herd of horses rapidly losing weight would either get the quality hay and water they needed or they'd be surrendered. I can make a crying baby stop almost instantly, just by looking at her or him with understanding. And I smile, at anyone.

Being a social justice fighter isn't just about right and wrong, it's about feeling another's suffering and doing what I can to bring about relief. I am capable, competent, resourceful, and quick to act. You'd want me on your team if compassion and justice were your mission.

I walked to school in the 70's in Boston. If you don't know about school busing, it's worth a dive into a few books or a listen to a podcast. I walked past buses with black kids behind the windows and I heard what white adults would say to these kids. I'd seen people spit as they walked by. At kids. KIDS! Like me! Every n-word, every curled lipped pejorative, every huff of disgust was slung at me too. I saw no difference between those kids on the bus and myself. I listened to family members talk with disgust about black kids "coming in" and my heart hurt. My stomach cramped. My head swirled with the question, how can you hate someone you don't know? If you hated them, you hated me. I distanced myself from my family for some time because I didn't know how to deal with that.

Expressing compassion is part of an empath's life. Over the years, I have learned to feel compassion not just for those who are hurting, but for those who do the hurting. I have been able to still love family who say some really racist and hurtful things. I would say friends as well, but I choose my friends. I can separate love from agreement. I can love someone and not agree with their beliefs. I can have compassion for the hurt they have deep inside that would cause them to hate others and deny current events.

But something is happening. Over the past two years, the global injustices, persecutions, separations, discriminations, murders, court decisions are taking their toll on me and now I am having a hard time not absorbing so much suffering. I cannot hear a separated child's cry without breaking down with a split heart: one half feeling the fear and terror of a confused child alone in an unfamiliar world, and the other half feeling the helplessness, despair, and agony of a parent whose child's whereabouts are unknown. I cannot look at a photo of a starving seal cub or polar bear disoriented by a landscape that no longer provides food and the map needed for survival, because I cry knowing we ought to be doing better. I cannot sit at a table with a dead animal in the center because I know it was once part of a family unit and I know of the fright it experienced right before it was slaughtered. I cannot read a headline of a mother screaming because her child's leg was just blown off, literally, in what is one of the most senseless and egregious abuses of power in my lifetime, because her voice and pain permeate my entire being. I cannot listen to a privileged man berate a woman for speaking out about sexual abuse many years ago because I know her story and I know why she kept quiet, and I know what shame of privilege looks like. And here I sit feeling helpless and hopeless.

I am the fixer, the protector, the one who knows what someone is feeling and can be there to offer comfort and guidance. But I can't fix this. I can't help them all. And my ability to send compassion to those who are complicit by way of choice, silence, ignorance, convenient disregard, vote, is fading. And that is a horrible sinking feeling. It feels like a personal failure.

Can I still love all as one when so many others are suffering, and hurting, and dying? I cannot give up on that.

I cannot.

I must not.

#chooselove
#weareone
#itshumanity

Prayer for 2019

If you've shared a meal with me, you know that before eating, I bow and give thanks.

Someone once asked, out of curiosity, what I said in my prayer. It can go anywhere from the obvious, such as, thanking the planet for providing the food in front of me and for bringing my meal companion to the table, to giving thanks for the hot water water I use to wash my plates and the four walls surrounding us in safety, to being grateful for coming to a place of compassion and no harm in my food choices. I may send out prayers to someone in particular who has been on my mind, or ask that all beings know peace.

Last night, as I was having an early dinner because it was the eve of the new year and I needed to be ready to spend hours outdoors with my herd if the fireworks got too close, I sat in quiet and in prayer. For the new year, the new moon, the partial solar eclipse of this week, I felt the pull to pray deep for the planet and all its beings. More than that, to pray for love. To pray that all beings may know love, love for themselves and love for others. That they may know love from themselves and from others.

Suddenly, I heard the message, it was healing. Healing needed the space.

I realized, I could pray for love--and I will continue to do so, but it is healing that is needed. For if a person has trauma, self-loathing, lacks belief in their value, stews in old patterns and thoughts, they cannot be in a space of true love. Because love of self is often the hardest to achieve, yet it is essential to really loving another. Love of self comes from being healed of worn stories, from karma of past lifetimes; it comes from believing that you are love and so is every other being on this planet.

If you cannot see yourself in every other being, your expression of love is short-circuiting. To not see yourself in other beings, is to put yourself above others, creating separation and distinction, imposing a measure of worthiness and the right to exist.

Once we heal a wound, one at a time, once we forgive a past injustice, once we detach from the story we created that binds us to what happened, we experience a freedom like nothing else. We then possess the vision to continue our healing. As this happens, the pain is transmuted to universal love.

Love isn't agreeing with or forgetting, it's allowing space for all of us to heal, including ourselves. It's holding space for another to go through their process and not be tied to the outcome for them. Love is a practice and a journey.

I. We. All.

In light and love,

Thank You, Roberta Flack

We all know how music can transport us, heal us, comfort us, inspire us, energize us. And when the Universe is on a roll, the right song comes at the right moment.

Most of my friends remember the end of our relationship, the last few years. Those were hard years, painful and challenging. Of course, my friends have not experienced my journey as I have, since then, my healing, my understanding, my compassion, my forgiveness. So when people say something like, "I know your relationship didn't end well" it's almost as if I am being reminded of something, or really, more like being told something that seems so distant and almost foreign. It's just not where I live any longer. I have moved far away from those days. But I understand their point.

Our connection was soul lives long. Our time together was profoundly deep. Now that he has changed the dynamic, in death, another phase of movement is occurring.

Someone posted Roberta Flack's The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face. Who hasn't loved this song! But tonight, it's as if I am hearing this fully, for the first time. It was a movie replaying. It was the feeling of cheeks touching that first time in the kitchen, of my heart pounding like never before. He was the one person who knew me and all of my demons better than anyone. It was vulnerable and raw and real. It was love.

My mother had said we had child-like play and laughter. It's because we offered our inner child to the other, to be known, to be appreciated, and to be healed of all the burdens our little one carries for us as adults. That's how deep we went.

For all that happened over our many years together, it cannot erase this. We were destined for one another, we had a soul contract. And now, I think I can finally grieve without fearing being caught in the loop of past lives.

We have truly separated.

And this calls for something different. This is what I am discovering.


Roberta Flack: https://youtu.be/Id_UYLPSn6U

My Story: Part I

Some ask,

"How come you didn't leave?"

It was a catharsis in the making.  Once the transformation started, it couldn't be stopped.  We see this in the Death card in Tarot. The sailboat is under sail, the new day is dawning on the horizon and the rider is down to bare bones, no battle gear, no spurs but rather an arrow, a red feather of life's passion in the hat, atop a white horse of purity, a front foot raised in motion, moving forward under the benediction of spirit.  It ceased to be about the other person.  It was my awakening.

"Where did you find the strength?"

As soon as my soul agreed to ask for help, the Universe started to deliver and continued to provide me the tools I needed to allow this process to unfold.  Reconnecting with my parents in a most profound and meaningful way was step one in feeling supported.  Finding the spiritual path that resonated with my being and beliefs gave me the grounding and trust I needed to recognize, if only mildly consciously, that this moment in time was critical in my life if I was to fully live as the person I was brought here to be.  




"But he was an a****!"

And that's what it took to call me out on my mastery of the expert level defensive and avoidance game.  My program was so well oiled, so tight, I could run circles around most.  As my experiences started to spark and were leading me toward a path of healing, it was still only a faint flicker. Only a raging beast could outwit the slyest of foxes.  I could not hide, not even from myself.  And when the beast would rage, finally, I would begin to shake out of the years of numbness.  I could still outwit a simple mirror.  My fortress required a fun house.

"Do you miss him?"

No.  The lesson was, and still is, so encyclopedic and truly that of a metamorphosis that my heart has safely stored the hurt and depression under "was useful, but no longer necessary" and the intermittent joy and love has been absorbed into the ability to be compassionate and forgiving, of both of us.  Our relationship no longer looks the same.  It has been dismantled and the various parts are now blended into a greater, higher personal good.

Namaste.

Why Respite Ranch?

When the wind blows in Central Oregon, it's time to redirect and retreat indoors.  Rain? Snow? Cold? No problem.  Wind?  I run for cover!

It is very windy today.  The kind of wind that just knocks the wind out of you to make its own force even more hearty.  I thought spending a few hours indoors would be a good time to start on those taxes.  Then I realized it had been a while since I had posted a blog.  Naturally, the priority won out.

The animals and I are in our sixth month here at Respite Ranch.  Everyone has done a beautiful job adjusting to the new surroundings and rhythm.  They are thriving under the blue skies.  It is a lot of work taking care of everyone.  I am still making my own adjustments for what works best for them and being mindful of space and time for me.  They come first.  As any of you with children can appreciate, my business drops when one of them needs something.

Restating the fact, ranch life can be hard, painful--outer body and inner soul--and sometimes cruel.  Yet for any moment of discomfort, there are hours of comfort.

I invite anyone who could use a shift in perspective, a little personal space, a spot of encouragement to find their clouded truth, to come to Respite Ranch and just be.  We are surrounded by trees, countless birds overly generous with their songs, mountain views, fresh air and love.  Lots of love.

If hugging or grooming a horse is not within your comfort zone, just sitting and watching them and absorbing their therapeutic energy is vibe altering.  Of course, I would encourage you to redefine your comfort zone.  They are incredible healers.  Intuitive, giving, grounding, kind, compassionate, and knowing.  Looking into the eyes a horse is like finding the portal to your deepest self.  There is only truth.  There is only love. 

Do you enjoy eggs?  It is an honor to crack a pearl from one of my girls and enjoy the rich flavor of the bright orange yolk, the way an egg is supposed to taste.  Those not accustomed to farm fresh eggs might think the egg is a funny color.  It's the happiness and health of my beautifully feathered hens being shared with you.

They like to follow me around the ranch and they talk as we go along, commenting on what bug they just snatched from a blade of grass or encouraging me to give them a little snack from the house.  They are big fans of yogurt, tuna, rice and all kinds of fruits and vegetables.  We contribute very little trash to the landfill.

While Shadow and Pippin can get rather randy this time of year, observing their antics and their affections melts away any ice walls that serve no positive purpose.  They nap together, sometimes curled into each other.  They call to me in very sweet voices, "ma'aaa" and I cannot resist.  Shadow is so affectionate, it's hard to fathom.  When he curls up at my feet, I'll sit on the ground beside him and he wiggles a bit to get himself touching me or he finds a way to rest his horned head against my body.  And with such tenderness and knowing that he is safe, my angel falls asleep.

He will stand for as long as I will to be groomed.  He likes to extend his front legs, one at a time, and I gently pull on them, move them around, massage his shoulder and his joints and he is genuinely grateful.  Shadow is my protector.  If he hears my voice change as I scold Pippin for his bad boy advances, Shadow will leave his hay in his house and come running to me, literally.  If Pippin is challenging me, Shadow will knock him clear of me.  Then he comes to my side to be sure I'm okay and I thank him and kiss him and he walks away with pride knowing his momma is safe.  Honestly, is there any greater privilege?

Pippin is a handful.

I pray he never stops loving peanuts because that is how I get everything done with him, including brushing his hind legs that look like tattered wool blankets.  Pippin wants nothing to do with a brush so while he is shedding, he has big clumps of wool hanging off of him.  So, I feed him peanuts with one hand while brushing him with the other.  He is smart enough and understands that I get something too.  The poor baby does take his share of bumps and bruises by the head of Shadow.  There is a good 25 pounds difference between them and Shadow does have all the power.  So, when he gets an undeserved pummeling, he comes to me for comfort.  The other day, he managed, as goats do, to get a hook of a cord stuck in his mouth.  Thankfully, I was able to keep him from pulling and Shadow from head butting long enough that I could figure out which way the hook was facing and get it out of his little mouth.  He cried.  I kicked into crisis management mode.  So now we are just watching the little swelling he has on his cheek to be sure it doesn't get worse but only gets better.

They are humorous.  They are fun to watch running around in circles chasing each other or the dogs.  They are clever and you can be impressed by just what they'll figure out.

No ranch stay is complete without the loving companionship of Bodie and Pinkie.  Once you get past their individual manners of greeting you, they are perfect hosts.  You will not be left alone, no need for affection will go unmet, your desire for tactile stimulation will be more than satisfied, and your heart will smile and laugh.  Their love is sincere and endless.  

As wide as you can open your heart, they will fill the space with their loyalty and acceptance of you.  And when they fall asleep on your lap or at your feet and start to twitch, snore or talk in their doggie dreams, it is impossible to hold onto anything that doesn't make room for your greatest good.

Pooker,   the matriarch of Respite Ranch acknowledges you every time you come in.  She is partial to the Y chromosome, so if your gender is not such, she doesn't intend to offend, it's just the way she is.  She is 18 years old and she deserves every treat, kiss, bath, scratch she gets.

The Respite Suite has calming energy for a visitor.  I had the very comfortable queen bed made many years ago.  It puts you on the pedestal you deserve with its pillow top mattress, extra pillows and light down comforter that is cozy in winter or summer.  The windows are adorned in green, from the natural landscape outside.  The lamps are soft, the iPod loaded, a candle and incense ready for a flame, a few books of interest are on the table for when a line of written inspiration can round out your day on the ranch.

I enjoy my space.  I enjoy looking out onto my animals and hearing my hens cluck up a storm when they've left one of their pearls for me to find.  I enjoy how the physical work keeps my body strong and allows these magnificent beings to exist in harmony and respect of each other, knowing they will be cared for and provided for, nurtured and appreciated.

I think about my previous homes in city landscapes.  What different lives I've led.  I'm going to stick with this one for a while longer.  More lessons have been learned in the past 5 years than in the previous 40.  What a gift.  I am very happy to live this gift and share this gift, and I am not ready to tuck it away in the closet to be cherished as just another memory.

Healing Blessings

 

 

Archangel Raphael



There are a few people in my circle that could benefit very much from healing energy being sent to them.  In your prayers, meditations, talks to the universe, to your God, in your Reiki, your healing practice, I ask you to include them today.

 

**My sister Sharon is recovering from a heart procedure.
**Dear Carie is confronting tumors that have begun to grow again.
**Glory is doing her best to manage a variety of health issues while doing what she can to save her house.
**Devon, a young boy who was life flighted to Boston a couple of days ago is battling sepsis.
**The husband of one of my friends is receiving chemo and she is loyal to his care.

 

When healing energy and prayers are sent out into the universe and up to the heavens, major shifts occur.   When we send healing blessings to others, we too heal as we are reminded of our connection to each other.

 

Thank you for including them in your embrace of good health of mind, body and spirit.

 

Namaste.

 

 

Archangel Raphael ~

 

 

 Raphael's name means 'God heals' or 'God has healed' based upon the Hebrew word, Rapha, which means 'doctor' or 'healer' Raphael is a powerful healer of physical bodies, both for humans and animals. Defender of the Element of Air and of the East. He is the Angel of Love, Joy and Laughter, custodian of the Tree of Life and of Healing Powers. He helps you heal your mind, thoughts, body, and soul. Those suffering from addicitions would benefit asking Archangel Raphael for assistance. Patron Angel of all those in the field of Medicine

June 3: Peace

Life has been full of unexpected, not entirely, and surprising turns these past few months.  You could say that what was my life six months ago is nothing like it is now.

Truthfully, I am grateful for the major shift; it needed to happen.  I am at peace with the concept of the shift.  The details, hitches, twists and turns; however, leave me feeling less than at peace.  In fact, I am probably the most ungrounded as I have been in a very long time.  It takes a lot to get air between my feet and the earth.

There have been so many posts related to peace, healing, love, moving forward, transition, on Facebook lately.  Each one makes it sound so simple and easy.  I read the post, smile, embrace the content, nod my head in full agreement and then click "share" so maybe someone else can experience that refreshing clarity--as fleeting as it may be.

And yet, no sooner do I share that post than do I return to that previous state of uncertainty.

Today, as I do in the mornings, I reached over to read the inspirational thought for the day from my book Spiritual Diary.  I share it with you here.

"Live each present moment completely and the future will take care of itself.  Fully enjoy the wonder and beauty of each instant.  Practice the presence of peace.  The more you do that, the more you will feel the presence of that power in your life."    ~~~ Paramahansa Yogananda, SRF Lessons

I have read this multiple times today.  A year ago, I completely resonated with this.  This is where I spent my days.  How did I wander off so far?  I am an eternal traveler, but how could I leave such a secure space?

We know "things happen for a reason."  I do believe this.  More than that, I believe everything that happens in our lives, every choice we make and the ensuing consequence, is a lesson.  We are here to learn those lessons and whether or not we learn them is our karma.

I am making the most concerted effort every day to open my heart and mind to this current life lesson.  There is something mighty big in there for me to learn because otherwise, it wouldn't be this difficult.

That little paragraph above that I shared with you is my key.  Now to find the matching keyhole in my soul.

Peace.





 

Words Worth Noting

Every now and again you read something that just hits you as extremely profound and even useful. This is what I read recently, and read again and again:

"Words saturated with sincerity, conviction, faith, and intuition are like highly explosive vibration bombs, which, when set off, shatter the rocks of difficulties and create the change desired."

~~~~ Paramahansa Yogananda, Scientific Healing Affirmations

Kindness of Others

It is with the kindness of family, friends, neighbors, doctors and animals that I have been healing my heart.

Thank you to all of you who called, stopped by, sent messages and cards and sent your loving energy. From deep down inside I am grateful for your love and caring.

One of the gals at Bend Equine made this woven heart from Tripper's tail hair. It's really beautiful and incredibly special.

Happy Birthday Tripper

So much time has passed since my last blog. A crashed hard drive, new computer, printer isn't compatible, itunes not backed up... I have been computer-phobic for a while.

Today is Tripper's birthday. So, all the bad computer poo poo must be pushed aside so I can post his photo and write a bit about him.

Tripper is my Quarter Horse and he is 21 years old today. A Taurus for sure. And a sweet sweet horse.

He was here at the ranch when we arrived a year and a half ago. He was in a dry lot with several other horses, one of them the alpha mare who was relentless in her attacks on him. She would chase him from food and water, bite him, kick at him, she would seek him out and separate him from the group.

His coat looked mangy and dull. He was missing hair all over from being bit. He was in pain when he walked from aging bones and the winter cold. His eyes were sad and his spirit broken. The ranch owners (not his owner) said it was likely he wouldn't survive that winter.

It couldn't be. I moved Tripper from the dry lot to a pasture in front of my house. Larry and I showered him with attention and love and positive energy. We brought in another horse, Slammer, who is everyone's friend to give him a little company and a feeling of safety in numbers.

As spring came around and the grass started greening, Tripper ate up the sweet growth giving him the protein and carbs he desperately needed. We watched him get stronger and stronger as the weeks went by.

I groomed him regularly and his coat began to fill in and shine. I worked him in the round pen to regain his strength and reestablish a sense of purpose and pride in his accomplishments.

His owners came to visit one day and walked straight past him calling out toward the dry lot "Tripper!" "Tripper!" Tripper walked up to the fence in response and watched as this couple continued walking, not recognizing their revitalized horse.

After a series of events, not necessary to explain, they decided to sign Tripper over to me as his new owner. I received his papers--which are very interesting to read. This was this past January.

The ranch owners saw him a couple of months back and said, "He is a completely different horse. He has gained at least 5 years on his life." Of course, I look forward to more than 5 years.

Tripper is now healthy, steady, confident, happy, proud, willing and a real love. We have a great time together be it in the round pen, grooming, or just walking around picking up poop in the separate dry lot he shares with Alibi (another story!)

So today, when he turned 21, I had to give thanks and celebrate. I love having him as my horse. I look forward to going out to see him several times a day. I get so excited when he learns something new, even at his age, and I admire his pride when he recognizes what he's done. And I thank him for trusting me to care for him. We both won big.

Tonight he got his evening bucket of barley and oats and glucosamine, with a special topping of many many chopped orange circles. His own birthday carrot cake.

Happy Birthday Tripper!

In Honor of Twist

You may be wondering, "Just what is so great about these horses anyway?"

My answer would be: they offer you their vulnerability, they make no judgment, they love you unconditionally, their trust in you is a delicate bond, they give you their best, they open a door in your heart that you may have never known to exist, they say so much to you without complicating it with words.

In return, all they ask of you is that you respect them, love them, honor them and give them good care.

One could say the scale is tipped.

Today, my dear friend Barb lost Twist. She told me that she has had Twist for 3 days longer than her only daughter, who is in her early 20s.

Their bond was deep, sweet, and honest. Barb was dedicated in blessing Twist with her tenderness and compassion. She gave Twist every ounce of her gentle and healing energy.

This evening, I could hear the cries of the other horses in Barb's picture-pretty pasture calling out for the matriarch of their herd.

In your thoughts or prayers, please think peace for Twist and soothing and comfort for the sad hearts of Barb and Jeff and their horses.