Divine guidance

When I started this blog, I was pretty nervous. I had been having all these spiritual experiences and I even “heard” that I should start a new blog and what the name and focus should be. Would people think I was weird? Way out there? Crazy?

But at some point it became scarier NOT to do it, so I did it.

After I started writing about my experiences, many people showed up telling me – confidentially – about similar experiences in their lives. I felt honored that they would share those with me, plus it made me feel a little less nutty.

As for me, I began to trust that when I got those messages, and if I followed them, they would take me someplace good. I began to rely on them.

I haven’t heard any messages recently. I kind of miss them. Plus, now that I have relied on them, it is a little scary to do things without them. There is a certain security to knowing that someone is guiding me, that they have my back, that it isn’t just me on my own out there.

As I began to realize this, a few friends appeared to tell me about the messages they recently received and the miraculous happenings in their lives, how they are connecting with something bigger than we are. I am again honored that they would share this with me. And it helped me to remember that something doesn’t have to happen to me personally for it to exist. And maybe sometime I’ll get those cool, instructive messages again. Or something else!

In the meantime, I like that these connections exist for my friends and family, and I can bask in that. And going into my CT scan tomorrow, I feel like someone has my back, even if I’m not hearing them.

I hope your guidance, wherever it comes from, takes you someplace that makes you smile.


God is in the Details

Thank you for your cheerful support of my good news about the tumors shrinking. It helped to extend the good feelings, especially when the usual chemo side effects set in and my lowered white count enabled my cold to flare up again. Ugh.

Between my cold, the shortening daylight hours in the northeastern U.S. and the dreary weather we have been having, life felt grey and I felt tired. Though I consciously know that every day is precious and not to be wished away, I just wanted to sleep through winter.

It was more habit than passion that pulled me to Tong Ren on Sunday night. Once I am there, I typically receive energy when it is my turn and spend the rest of the hour sending energy to everyone else.

This time, I took a seat close to the back, closed my eyes, and promptly fell asleep. Tom Tam and his wonderfully generous crew of tappers stood in front, facing our rows of seats and asked, person by person and row by row, what their ailment was. I jerked awake often enough to revel in the good reports from others but kept falling asleep again. When he reached my row, I managed to stay awake until he and his crew of tappers were ready to work on me. I requested help in shrinking the tumors, and added that I would like to also be rid of my cold and my fatigue.

After they finished tapping for me, I closed my eyes again. This time, instead of sleeping, I thought about how everything felt blah. My morning routine came to mind: it can feel the same each day, but if I focus on the actual details, it really does vary in some small way and set that day apart from any other.

Maybe I could focus on some little details right now. Maybe those would help to set this moment apart and remind me that life does vary in some small exciting way. Maybe it would help me to know that there is a larger story to all this, that this is not all there is.

I opened my eyes and looked at the 8-10 volunteers standing in the front of the room, each tapping away on their doll. My eyes moved toward Janice, who has a special place in my heart. I focused on her outfit – she always wears something fun. But another object kept glittering at me, catching the light so that the reflection was almost blinding. Shifting my focus to see what was shining, I saw that Lynne, doing her healing tapping, wore a chunky gold necklace, a larger piece of jewelry than I’ve ever seen her wear. Well, that is interesting. But not exciting.

I strangely couldn’t pull my gaze from it so continued to examine it from afar. It had large gold links, and, wait, something was hanging from it, made from a different material and style than the chain, sort of artistic. A cross?

Lynne's necklace

A cross. A blinding light in the grey. A detail that set this moment apart. The larger story that helps to carry me. Okay, even in my blah mood, this felt a bit exciting.

The session ended shortly afterwards, and leaving the room, I passed by a book titled, The Body Electric, instantly inserting the song from the movie Fame into my head. In the finale, the high school kids together perform what they have worked so hard to learn. They show their growth in singing, dancing and musical instruments as well as their personal growth.

The way all their artistic parts come together to create one amazing performance reminds me of how we all exist together. We each bring aspects of ourselves we’ve worked on, sometimes for a long time, and can now do well – maybe not perfectly, but pretty darn well – and we joyously bring them all together with everyone’s else’s hard work and magic and possibly mistakes and in that joining, create something larger and more complex than our own piece.

I’m just so happy to have one small part in all this, to be together with all your dancing and singing and joy and continued growth.

But wait –there is more! When I was Googling I Sing the Body Electric, I came across this poem of the same name, by Walt Whitman. The whole poem was confusing to me, but I really liked this part:

I have perceiv’d that to be with those I like is enough,
To stop in company with the rest at evening is enough,
To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough,
to pass among them, or touch any one, or rest my arm ever so lightly round his or her nech for a moment – what is this, then?
I do not ask any more delight – I swim in it as a sea.

There is something in staying close to men and women, and looking on them, and in the contact and odor of them, that pleases the soul well;
All things please the soul – but these please the soul well.

I hope your soul feels pleased today, and pleased well.

With gratitude and love,

The unusual begins to look normal

After seeing John of God (in entity) yesterday and having a spiritual surgery, I had a pretty cool 24 hours in the “spiritual ICU.” I did stay in my room, but it was hard. My emotions ran the gamut, which can be crazy-making.

I've seen some weird shit

I’m still pretty wiped out, but saw that Alice in Wonderland piece (above) and it very much captures how I am feeling. Often, I think about something and an answer materializes. For example, I wondered if I should write my own obituary (not that I’m dying, but obviously I think about it from time to time), and then a friend sent me the obituary of a woman who wrote her own. Wild.

AND, I prayed in Current on Friday for a child who has been displaying a particular behavior and on Saturday the behavior abruptly stopped.

AND, I saw another aura.

AND, during my time alone today, I was obsessing over someone here who was making me crazy (and sad). I heard a voice saying that I shouldn’t worry about her, that they are taking care of her. I later found out that she had some pretty intense work going on today.

But wait, there’s more….One day this week, I took off my jewelry before I went to bed, the same way I do every single night. The next morning, I found my Alex and Ani hummingbird bracelet under my pillow. I thought, there is a slight chance that I left it on my bed, but under my pillow? The next day, I learned that someone else in our group found her iPad under her pillow. Tooth fairy entity? ha ha

I took these photos in my bathroom. The sparkles you see are like the sparkles that I occasionally see in my room (no kidding), though I will admit that some of these dots could be toothpaste on the mirror. 🙂 Still, notice the orb and the blue light. In this one, it is by the left side of my head.

Orbs in the mirror

In this one, it is by my right elbow.

Orbs in the mirror 2There are other experiences that I am too tired to write out fully, so will end on a more everyday note…the meals at Frutti’s are HUGE, fresh, delicious and a good value. This is a salad that runs about $5.

Salad at Frutti's

Love and blessings,

Let my love open the door

Thank you for your healing prayers. As more than one person pointed out, I should ask for your prayers for FULL healing, so thank you for focusing your prayers on that!

Thank you also for staying so connected. I am more and more convinced that we are connected in invisible but vary tangible ways.

Mostly, those kinds of connections are just so fun and open my world even wider. My family and I recently returned from a magical vacation where we got to connect in real time with dear friends.

Of the gazillion stories, I will share something from my time in Ashland, Oregon (USA), visiting two friends I met last summer in Brazil.

At one point, my friends and I were talking about this blog and I mentioned Tom. Tom and I met through this blog and I shared with my friends some of the cool “coincidences” related to Tom and our email connections.

Shortly after this conversation, I checked my email. Around the time we were talking about Tom, he was writing an email to me! Love it when that happens. AND this is what it said (slightly edited with his approval):

I was just … beginning to read the first post: “How This Blog Began” https://adventuresinspiritualliving.wordpress.com/2012/08/31/how-this-blog-began/

During my reading…, I had my iPod going on shuffle with ensuing random background music.

At the moment I started to read why you started to write this blog based upon a clear message from God, my iPod Shuffle started to play the song “Let My Love Open the Door” by Pete Townsend.  It isn’t a song I know super well but it instantly caught my ear & I immediately felt the need to look up the lyrics since I didn’t know them. I feel like I got my own message at that moment  – I don’t know Pete’s background of why he wrote the lyrics but it spoke to me of God’s love, especially after the first verse, wonderful timing to reading about why & how you started the blog.

Of course, I totally loved the synchronicities of all that. I completely believe that events are connected in ways designed to speak to our hearts. I love that that song came on during the reading of that particular blog post. I love that Tom’s experience helped me to hear that song in a new way.

But wait, there is more! In the liner notes of Pete Townsend’s Gold (Remaster) CD, he refers to this song as “Jesus sings.” Who’d have thought?!

So, maybe you will hear this song in a new way as well. Or, if it isn’t the song for you, I hope that you will see and hear your connections with new eyes and ears, always.

Joy and love to you (and the lyrics that follow),


When people keep repeating
That you’ll never fall in love
When everybody keeps retreating
But you can’t seem to get enough
Let my love open the door
Let my love open the door
Let my love open the door
To your heart

When everything feels all over
When everybody seems unkind
I’ll give you a four-leaf clover
Take all the worry out of your mind

Let my love open the door
Let my love open the door
Let my love open the door
To your heart

I have the only key to your heart
I can stop you falling apart
Try today, you’ll find this way
Come on and give me a chance to say

Let my love open the door

It’s all I’m living for
Release yourself from misery
Only one thing’s gonna set you free
That’s my love

Let my love open the door
Let my love open the door
Let my love open the door
To your heart

When tragedy befalls you
Don’t let them bring you down
Love can cure your problem
You’re so lucky I’m around

Let my love open the door
Let my love open the door
Let my love open the door
To your heart

Ask and you shall receive

Thank you for your belief that I can walk this path to healing. Your belief helps always, and especially when I am not quite sure even what I am doing.

On beautiful days, I feel so lucky to be able to get out and about. This weekend, Julian wanted to bike around Fresh Pond so Kenobi (our dog) and I joined him. I walked while Kenobi scampered here and there and Julian biked ahead of me.

We were part of the usual flow of folks running, biking and walking in both directions of the 2¼ mile loop. Some people were with their friends, their dogs, or both. Many were chatting together.

As I noticed the beauty of the calm water and the dense summer green trees against the blue sky, I thought of God and Jesus and said / prayed, “Things feel like they are headed in a good direction but sure would like to know that you are with me.”

Less than a minute later, with the question still fresh in my mind, I passed a woman walking alone. As I caught up to her, I heard her say, “He is with you. It can feel like you are suffering a long time. But God will be there longer than the suffering. He is with you always.”

I almost stopped in my tracks. It was like my question was answered immediately and literally. It even sounded like she was talking to me.

So, I turned to respond. She seemed to be about my age, with a relatively fit build and wavy grey shoulder-length hair. Her ear buds were in and connected to her cellphone, and she continued her conversation, oblivious to my presence. Obviously, those words were not intentionally directed at me.

Still, this felt like more than simple coincidence.

In my experience living in the Boston area, especially in Cambridge, I cannot remember overhearing someone talking so literally about God and life outside a church context. It just isn’t done in my world, much less in answer to a request that I just made in my heart (not even out loud!). So I filed that under happy amazement and took her words as a message for me, too.

In the meantime, Julian turned around and biked back to me. This is our usual pattern. We stop and chat for a few moments, then he bikes ahead again. The three of us (including Kenobi) repeat this pattern over and over for the duration of our walk.

Because of these stops, the woman passed me, then I passed her, then she passed me, etc. I continued to eavesdrop on her conversation when I could. Though it was interesting, no more comments felt specifically directed to me.

At one point, I wanted the chance to tell her that she was not only probably helping her friend, but helping me as well. However, I didn’t want to interrupt her conversation. Joking around in my head, I asked for an opportunity.

And then, sure enough, I received an opportunity. The very next time I passed her, she hung up from her call. I saw her pushing buttons on her iPhone so I interrupted her before she could dial again.

I told her how her words impacted me. She told me that she always feels like it is rude to talk on a cellphone at Fresh Pond and she gets annoyed when others do it, but her brother was having a hard time and this was the only time she had to talk with him. So perfect!

We talked a bit more, then I thanked her for being a messenger. As I walked ahead, a butterfly appeared next to me, danced beside me for quite a few steps, flew in front of me, and then gracefully went on its way.

I am continuously amazed by the power that surrounds us and that is within us, and how strong and expansive that power can be, and how we are all so connected, heart and soul, in ways that we cannot see. I am thrilled to be reminded of this, and grateful that these kinds of events occur in life. Not only are they fun, but they make it easy for me to believe in God.

Thank you for sharing your self and your love so generously. Thank you for being open and connected and letting God and higher powers work through you to help those you touch, both directly and indirectly.

I hope happy coincidences cross your path and that you see the butterflies dance.


We find our faith where we put it

This week was amazing. I realized that I feel even better than I did two years ago. My energy and spirit have been fabulous, and I want to shout my thanks from the mountaintops. I thank you for your prayers and your good wishes and your presence in my life. I THANK GOD that I feel so strong and vibrant. I regularly give thanks to the spiritual entities who carried me through my last week and who apparently continue to do so. I can deeply feel the shift.

Sometimes I am shocked that I talk about such intangible aspects of life as though they are tangible and proven. I always believed in God and have always, for as long as I can remember, had clear spiritual events happening to me. The effects are so real to me, but I have only recently started talking about them. While I know that many people have even stronger experiences, I am still very aware that many people (including myself before all this) would think I am crazy.

For example, when I bring up anything “unproven” with my oncologist – which includes any alternative practices I can imagine, including diet – his reactions are (paraphrased), “That hasn’t been tested” or “We don’t know how it works” or “It only works for a small subset of the population.”

Despite his doubts, he tries to be supportive, saying, “If it makes you happy and does no harm, go for it.” Not a ringing endorsement but I can accept that we view the world differently. I stay with him because he is smart and easy to talk with, characteristics which go a long way with me.

When we met immediately before my last chemo session, my doctor and nurse were discussing ideas to help manage the nausea I had been experiencing and offered me a different drug.

“What kind of drug is it?” I asked them.

“It is an anti-psychotic, but it is also useful in managing nausea.”

“How does it work?” I wondered out loud.

“We don’t know how it works. It just seems to work for nausea,” they replied.

Not knowing how treatments work obviously doesn’t bother me; I do plenty of healing modalities that just seem to work. However, I was hesitant to use a drug that would change my already-chemo-addled brain in some unknown and unneeded ways, so I declined.

After our previous conversations, I was intrigued that he would recommend something without knowing how it worked.

This conversation pushed my thinking about where we place our faith. My doctor may not have faith in say, acupuncture, but he does have faith in the scientific system of drug development. Because of his faith in that system, he is comfortable prescribing a drug without knowing firsthand how it works. He trusts that others have tested it and he trusts their account of the results.

I completely understand that it can be hard to believe in the intangible aspects of my path. I can automatically hold those same kinds of doubts when someone tells me something that is outside my own experience.

For example, if one of my kids were to say, “The pasta is crunchy,” my first reaction would be to taste a piece and see for myself (except that I no longer eat wheat). Then if my particular piece was perfectly fine, I would say something like, “This pasta is perfectly fine,” fully negating their experience.

Lately, though, I find that I am able to have more faith in what someone else says. Consider this image:

My friend and I stand together in front of a painting. She makes some comment like, “Wow, you can just feel the anger in this!” or “The joy just leaps off the canvas!” I look at the painting, trying to see what she sees.

Nothing leaps out at me, so I tilt my head, as if a new angle will expose these hidden secrets. Still nothing. I turn my head to look at her face, which has an unusually focused and emotional expression connected in some way to the painting. My eyes follow her line of sight, as if it were a string, back to the painting, and I look at it again.

I cannot see what she sees. I can’t “just feel the anger” in this. I see nothing “leaping off the canvas” toward me or even toward her. I can say that I like the painting. I can say that it makes me feel happy. Mostly, though, I feel like a spectator. Maybe even like a blind spectator. But I can trust that she sees what she says she is seeing. In fact, I have no doubt. I just can’t see it myself.

In most circles, it doesn’t feel socially acceptable to say that you believe in the unseen and unproven. I used to joke that I was raised Catholic, a faith in which we believe that during the Mass, bread and wine are literally transformed into the body and blood of Christ. When that is your starting point, one can believe that anything is possible.

The more I look, the more I notice that so many of us put our faith in that which we cannot see or prove for ourselves. My oncologist has faith in scientists he has never met and a scientific process that he didn’t perform. I have complete faith that my friend sees elements that jump out of paintings. Countless people in the world have faith that the Passover and Easter stories occurred, even though they were not there to witness it. We have faith in God and in each other in powerful ways that enable us to do and to be more than we could ever have imagined.

It doesn’t mean that any of these are right or wrong. But, for me at least, as I venture frequently into the unknown, I rely on the views that others share with me to support and expand my own experiences, and I find that they can be just as tangible as any object.

Thank you for sharing the things you see. I have faith in you, and thank you for your faith in me.


How this Blog Began

I recently returned from a trip to see John of God in Brazil, where I was told, among other things, that I would start a new blog called Adventures in Spiritual Living.

When someone says they are told something, I often wondered what that meant. Does that mean that they literally heard a voice with their ears? Does it mean that it suddenly occurred to them? Did they see a sign?

In my case, I felt like I literally heard that I was supposed to do this, although I did not hear it with my ears. I heard it in my head, just as clearly as if it was spoken to me.

It felt like this: Typically, my mind is filled with multiple thoughts running through it simultaneously. There are problem-solving thoughts, ideas, plans, and a myriad of other categories. Even when I am having a conversation with someone, it feels like innumerable thoughts flow through my mind.

However, there are moments when I am intensely, deeply focused on something or someone. At those times, that is the only thing that exists in my mind. My mind is otherwise clear and I am fully present with what I am doing or who I am with, and they are the only thing that exists in that moment. They are the only thing that I can hear.

Hearing this message was like that. It was one, singular thought, with no other simultaneous thoughts, and it was loud and clear. So loud, that I hesitate to call it a thought. And it had my full attention.

While I was in Abadiania, I heard several messages in this way. When I doubted and didn’t heed the message, life was a bit bumpier, or at the very least, predictable. When I did heed the message, no matter how strange or difficult it seemed to be, life unfolded as if by magic, and I felt carried by Grace. In those moments, I only wanted more, more, more of whatever that was happening in my life. I felt like an athlete, bouncing on the balls of my feet, ready and waiting for the next play. “Give me the next message! I’m ready for it!”

Of course, you can’t orchestrate these messages, but I am starting to believe that I can be open to them, so that they can guide my life in beautiful and spectacular ways.

So, I am heeding the message to set up this blog. Those of you who operate this way all the time won’t be surprised to know that the blog name was available. So I set it up.

And here I am. Thanks for joining me in this journey. I have no idea where this will lead, and I am excited about the adventure.