Vulnerability

Vulnerability!

That’s the word of this week since my book came out. I have been sent photos of friends holding my book, Erasable. I have had endless text messages about how the book made them feel. I have had an outpour of love beyond what I can ever wrap my head and heart around.

I don’t know much about how it is received by strangers. But, I do know one thing for certain: it’s a book about overcoming tremendous challenges. It’s a story similar to yours. It’s you in many ways. Take whatever resonates.

We read books, watch movies, and listen to others tell stories because we want to feel seen, understood, and accepted. Mine is no different.

I have been asked about the foreword. My dear friend, Rebecca Saltman, was kind enough to write it. She introduced me to the publishers when I contributed a chapter in her and Jade Redher’s anthology, U Empath You, back at the beginning of the year.

When I was in a moment of getting ready to pull the entire project and close shop, my publisher suggested I let Rebecca read the book. Only three other people had read this book before (many years ago): Angelica Pizano, Michael Thomas, and a professor in Durham, North Carolina, who mutilated the first draft (so much so that I hid the manuscript for almost 3 years in a desk drawer). But, he did me a favor because it was the exact healing I needed from this memoir. I had not come to terms with loss, rape, grief, heartache, and all the delicious joy that has come from this incredible life. I am blessed to have this life, the children who call me Mom, and the folks who raise me up to believe in myself… daily!

The professor was kind enough to show me that I still had to shift the voice. My first draft was written in stream of consciousness because I wrote it right after I lost my memory… and it was the only voice I had available. It read as if you were in my head and many times it was lost in translation.

So, Rebecca sat and read the pdf, pulling me from the doubts and insecurities. She had a stern talk with me, basically letting me know to put on my big girl panties on and move through the publishing process. I cannot imagine having anyone do the foreword as she knows the process of writing and publishing. Her foreword is a love letter of sorts as she retells the story of how her deceased father, Jack, came to me on one of our first conversations back in the summer of 2021.

I am beyond grateful for the love and support, not just from those who know me, but many who are reading this story. I have had friends from years ago reach out asking why I hadn’t shared the tidbits of my life. Why I never told them of my accidents?

I live forward. I don’t live back there. The story isn’t about survival. The story is about thriving even in the midst of turmoil. It’s about you. You taking every step with faith and a certainty that no matter what happens in your life you have the will and choice to make it through. You are invincible… not invisible. You matter. You aren’t erasable even when you feel unseen. And, if you aren’t feeling it then please look around and see what needs shifting in your life.

Thank you for the messages, emails, texts and phone calls. I had so many reservations about my story for two decades. I also knew that in order to be really honest I needed to put away any expectations of how it would be received. In the end, Erasable has healed the inner wounds that had me imprisoned for so long. It has lightened my heart with massive release and forgiveness. I feel free for once in this lifetime. I am stepping into a divine journey of self-love and acceptance.

I am in love… with you all! Thank you!

Millie

Tumbling


I have a 1,000’s of poems in several thick binders. For decades I would write one to two poems daily…religiously. When I started this blog, I wrote more poetry than stories. The other day I was able to get into an old computer and found more. This one in particular hit me. My mind tumbled to the past. I had met a man who turned my life upside down and right side up. It was a short love affair that reminded me to love deeper without holding back. That it was okay. That I would be caught and loved in return. And like most intense love affairs, it took its course. Just by the date I knew exactly who it pertained to. Poetry is a music and art photo album for the soul. ❤️

Sunday Love Story

love holding on

During my time as a hotel/retreat owner I met amazing people. Thousands walked through our doors. I heard stories of all types: challenges, sorrows, joys, marriages, divorces, illnesses, births, careers changes, like altering experiences, love stories and those of loss. Truth be told, I do not miss the responsibility of the business. It was a 365/24/7 job. I felt stuck and at a loss as time went on. But, what I miss are the connections I made on a daily basis. I was able to witness love and life through each person who entered our place. I could write a book about the souls who chose to share their stories, only because I was available to sit and witness them.

Several years ago Mickey and Dell visited. They would always stay in room 5. I used to refer to him as Santa Claus…his long white beard and smiles always brought about a childhood nostalgia. Mickey and Dell started dating in the10th grade and were married at 19 years old. They had two daughters, one who died a few years ago. I remember their love and union as if it was a fantasy fairy tale. Dell loved our place. She loved the pond. She was an extraordinary creature of poise and grace. Her beautiful white hair and fair skin was something out of a story book. She was intelligent, funny, and one of the most compassionate souls I’ve ever encountered.

One day I received a call from their daughter, Shannon, that Dell had passed on. I didn’t realized she had cancer the last time they stayed with us. My heart sunk and I asked myself, “How will Mickey survive this? How does a love that strong and beautiful survive loss? What happens to the one left behind when they have been together 40 something years?” But, all I could say to Shannon was that I was so sorry for her loss. I asked about her dad. Out of respect I held my questions. I could only imagine the inexplicable pain of losing your soul mate. I cried for a long while that afternoon. I didn’t get to say goodbye to one of my favorite guests.

Mickey continued to come every so often in Dell’s honor. She loved the place and he would stay one night here and there. He would come with his daughter and her family. But it wasn’t until one of the last weekends at our place that I got to know the real Mickey along with some of my friends. I had not realized the sense of loss he experienced until one-on-one he opened up about the love of his life. His sharing with us allowed the healing to begin. And, what I saw was deeper than his words. He’s a very reserved being. What I witnessed was the truth of grace and faith at the hands of separation.

See, that’s the thing about love: it doesn’t have to be gone to continue enduring its depth. He still feels married to his beautiful Dell. She was wise. She was angelic and now she’s his true guardian angel until the moment he joins her in that other realm.

Mickey has had losses. Shannon has had losses. Losing a daughter and then a wife within a short expand of years is inconceivable to me. It’s not something I ever want to experience. But, when you visit with my own Santa Claus you realize that we continue showing up and choosing our happiness. We are filled with other things during the day and at night we are touched by our loved ones in dreams.

Mickey still puts his darling wife and daughter to bed with his prayers. He still shares the day’s moments and tribulations. He still continues to walk among us, even when you see that there is someone always around him shining a bright light. I am also certain that there are dark moments of the soul that make him question the purpose for his walk here on earth. He is after all very human.

Love never dies. It evolves and continues to impact us in so many levels. Healing from any loss has no expiration date,or time of limitation. It’s all about honoring one moment at a time. When I think of his stories and the love that I witnessed when they would visit our center, I hold my heart tightly. I know love. I have been its student since very young. I know the way it moves, radiates, and transcends. I have witnessed love and lovers beyond time and space. Thank you, Mickey, for showing me once more what to aspire to be in this life. You are now, and forever will be, my Santa Claus bringing me joy through your texts every single day. I love YOU!

Walking your walk

boots

Last night at a beautiful gathering of friends a soulful woman shared a story that stayed with me throughout the night. She spoke about a man she knew who owned a pig farm up in these mountains. The man was in constant pain. His feet ached so much that it was preventing him from keeping up the farm. He was depleted of energy. The feet ailment was paralyzing him. He couldn’t move forward with his farm or anything because of this issue. Then one day something magical happened. He noticed that he was wearing his boots on the wrong feet. At that moment I had one of those Millie shout outs that I think I am keeping to myself but the filtering has decided to be loud (real loud with a few cursed words)! “Wow…what a metaphor for how we often live our lives…walking in the wrong shoes.”

Often times what we think is drastic or catastrophic is as simple as sitting down, breathing and looking down at ourselves. What are we doing wrong? What path are we not following? What am I doing to my poor feet? Step out of the shoes and try new ones. Make a new path. Switch the darn boots if you must. There are times we live our lives walking on eggshells as not to hurt another. Sometimes in the process of not hurting another we hurt ourselves even deeper. We don’t take responsibility for our own foundation.

Life is based on the walks we take…the decisions we make…the choices we put forward. Don’t waste another day being depleted with pain. Remove yourself. Move forward. Take the pebbles off the boots, the dirty tight socks, and change the way you look at each step you make. You also have no business walking in another’s shoes. Be grateful for your journey. Be present with all that you have traveled. Have a blessed day.