(image from unsplash.com)
(Google image since I could not take a picture of the man.)
This morning on my way to take the kids to camp, I watched a young man, half-naked, on the side of the interstate yelling at the trees and sky. It was right before 7AM. My windows were down and as I passed him I heard, “F*cK You!” as his fists were pointing upward.
I had this sensation of stopping, but I had the kids. And I am not part of this man’s story. A piece of me marveled at the ability to shout out to the Heavens, that raw vulnerability (even if he was strung out on something) to say exactly what he was feeling.
Most of us don’t.
We bury the pain or the anger. We bulldoze over it. We expect things will change and get angry when they don’t. We demand, beg, plead and complain about it.
Whenever I’ve had enough, I climb the tallest mountain around here early enough not to bump into anyone. When I get to the top, I sit on the largest boulder. The cows on that field surround me. Then I yell to the top of my lungs. I don’t stop till I feel the energy move through me. I sit for a bit. I may cry. I may write. I may just close my eyes and allow the sensations of nature embody me. I become still, smelling the earth, tasting the wind, hearing my heart beat.
I watched this man today and recognized it is time for another trip up the mountain. Those releases are powerful. I had a special pillow for one of my children when she was small so that she could hit it and yell. It was just a way for her to stabilize her little emotional body. Sometimes it was exactly what she needed. Other times it made it worst. We always found a happy medium.
This man needed this today. He had enough (or not enough). Who knows!
Today, allow yourself to feel what needs to move through you. Lock yourself in the car and yell. Scream in a pillow. Allow the energy to move through you and don’t filter it, avoid it, or reject it. Our bodies are transitioning with all the collective madness. If you can’t give yourself permission to let it out, your physical body begins to absorb it all in toxic ways. Self-care is also about releasing the things that haunt you.
I love you! Go love yourself as well!
We are a funny race! We only seem to grow through shit. We expand and push ourselves when we have learned some powerful crappy lessons. We are wild flowers being pushed from the toxic waste into the light. You aren’t alone on this journey. I have been in the pits of toxicity for a while. We are blossoming from all the past challenges that got us there. Let’s shine! This shi(f)t is needed in order to raise the frequency of this planet.
Mucho love to you…Millie
I love you,
These two little ones are like magnets. They cannot be apart from each other too long. They fight, argue, and then have to crawl up next to each other. Their beginnings weren’t easy. Kali Rose, was my daughter’s first born. My ex and I took her in when she was only 5 months old. My daughter came into my life from Romania when she was 9 years old. She is mentally unable to take care of herself, let alone a child. Luke was her second child. He is 3 years younger than Kali Rose.
It took us four years to finalize his adoption. He was with his bio-mom for 10 months of his life. It was not a pretty or easy story… one that I can’t share without my heart breaking into tiny pieces. He is healthy and happy and one of the most forgiving souls I’ve ever encountered in my life.
My daughter has had two other babies who are now loved by forever-adopted families.
I may know a little bit about being a mother… of 8 kiddos. I have learned that patience is the essence of relating to our children. That humor can change a room full of kids. That love is the bare necessities of their development. And, that somedays are hard and full of challenges and things can shift in a minute. All of it passes in the blink of an eye.
I don’t know if I am a good mother or not. It’s not for me to decide. Some of my kids will say I am. Others, not so much. And we all have our stories.
I have been brought into this world to mother, not just my children, but myself and others. It’s in the past few years that I have learned to mother me in places that I neglected.
I miss my mother on holidays like today. She was a hard woman, and she was soft. She was courageous, and she was fearless. She taught me the things I wouldn’t do to my children from what she did to me. My mother was a warrior and an incredible powerful example of strength in my life. There was an unstoppable force in her that dictated everything and everyone around her. Her perseverance was definitely passed onto my genes. When I began to adopt children she was not happy to say the least. She judged my choices terribly. And, as most people who cannot accept their own choices, she lashed out at every decision I made with my children. However, she did love them in her own way.
Mothering my kiddos has been the most challenging and rewarding experiences of my life. Even on the days that I am exhausted, hurt, and have no clue what to do, I find myself laughing and crying simultaneously.
What makes a mother a good one?
Your ability to transcend all the hardships and turn them into lessons. Your ability to forget quickly and forgive deeply. Letting go is the secret to this profession. If you hold on too tight you lose your grip.
I used to compare myself to the perfect PTA mothers at their school when my children were little. I could barely get all six out of the house and when I would drop them off at school I would judge myself based on how the mothers all looked. My kids were dressed, clean but sometimes (okay maybe a lot) disheveled. They were loved deeply. They knew it and felt it.
Today, on Mother’s Day, I hope you remember to mother YOU. Recall those moments you thought would last forever and you made it. You have done your job. I also want to honor those who aren’t mothers of little people but animals. Others who have chosen to mother the world with their love and presence. I believe there are fathers out there mothering the hell out of their children alone. My hat goes off to all of you. Every single person in this world has the ability to mother the world.
I love you… love yourself with the same fierce intensity you give to others, including your children.
The pics below are from our day exploring yesterday:
The time is now. Put it out there. Follow your dreams and desires. No more time wasted on waiting. You get to shift the obstacles and move into your knowing… your spiritual wisdom.
I love you…Millie
One of my cousins transitioned two days ago. She was 43 years old. She was sick since she was born. Truth be told, she was a firecracker. Her hair was dyed bright red for decades. We all knew her as a firecracker. When I heard the news, it hit me like a cold glass of water thrown in my face. Even though we hadn’t spoken for a while, and we were expecting her departure, the awareness of it sat in me deeply.
I have always thought of death as going from one door into another. I experienced it more than once through near-death experiences. I feel and believe she’s now in a place of peace and love. This doesn’t diminish the loss and sorrow. The grief will continue to reside for however long it needs to. We exist with an expiration date that only God knows. Every second here is on borrowed time.
As I was gathering my feelings early in the morning, trying to get kids dressed for school, I read an email from a dear friend about her son being in the hospital, also ready to departure this world. He and I spoke often. We talked about the esoteric world, shared experiences, and just had massive belly laughs. Sometimes through texts we could spend hours exploring the metaphysical world. We would joke about playing on the outer realms and dancing at night. He is very magical on so many levels.
The kicker for me was that my cousin and him were born two days apart in February on the same year. I spent the morning in the ICU visiting him yesterday. I asked him if there was anything I could do for him. His answer took me aback, “Yes, but you won’t like it.”
Our thoughts merged together at that moment. We can always read each other’s thoughts. I knew he wanted me to help him find peace.
He is tired. And seeing him in that condition, his organs shutting down, I was beyond exhausted. He was in and out of consciousness. I held his hand and did energy work on him.
Letting some go is inexplicable hard shit! He can see the spirit world as clearly as I can. And he kept pointing to those in front of his bed. I smiled and told him I knew. He knows they are flight attendants there to take him.
Death is the ending of one journey and the beginning of another. It is hard for those we leave behind. The fear, for the most part, is leaving loved ones. The other hesitation is not knowing where you go afterwards.
If you are losing someone, or lost someone recently, I am holding you tightly. These times seem to be grabbing on to so many who can’t deal with the intensity of the energies. Plus, when it is your time there is no stopping it.
I spent time sharing the news about our cousin with my older children who loved her. Each conversation kept fracturing my heart. They grew up with all her mischievous pranks. I know she is finally smiling from heaven and dancing the angel’s salsa and meringue.
I love you. Prayers to you and yours.
I love you,
for more of my spiritual writings please visit my other site: https://www.sacredjourneyinward.com/blog