Skipping Graduation (conclusion)

[Part II of II]

I filled Mark in on my visit with Billy, and true to his word, Mark accepted every word with an open mind and open heart.  He was able to confirm the following information from my reading with Billy.

• The outfit Billy was wearing when I saw him (shorts, t-shirt, beat-up boat shoes) was a pretty classic look for him in casual moments.
• The language Billy used was also spot-on. He had a notoriously filthy mouth in life.
• Billy was also a heavy smoker, which explains the scratchy tone of his voice.
• As I saw in my vision, Billy was in a bar before he died. I asked Mark if he’d had a heart attack (since I “felt” nauseous and sick), and he confirmed that he may have actually died of a drug overdose (which is why Billy said to me, “What was that sh*t?”). He was in fact in a bar shortly before his death, then he went home and died there, as I saw.
• Billy did, in fact, have two teenaged daughters.
• I don’t think Mark ever figured out which baseball cap Billy was referring to, so he’ll take that information with him.
• Billy’s mother did die a few years ago (as my Guides confirmed), but he had a very contentious relationship with her and often spoke of her as though she were still alive.
• Billy had a girlfriend, and Mark confirmed that it was a new relationship and not very serious.

I have to admit, even I was amazed by the information that I received during this reading.  But Mark and I remained concerned that Billy wasn’t at rest.  He asked if I would schedule another reading a few days later, and invited some of Billy’s good friends to attend. What transpired was an incredibly special experience for me, and I believe it was for them, as well.

About 30 minutes before my scheduled phone reading with Billy’s friends, I reconnected with Billy. I found him in a much better place than I had when we spoke three days earlier:

Me:  How’s it going, Billy?

Billy:  Better. This “dead thing” is weird, though. It’s hard to see people so miserable. I did that…it was an accident. I f*cked up.  Like I always did–just this time was the big f*ck-up.

We talked for a while, and Billy gave me some messages for his friends regarding his youngest daughter–the concerns of a father who was worried about his little girl growing up too fast. He was also concerned about the fate of his business.

When his friends called several minutes later, they were all gathered around the phone across the country, and I was in Boston with Billy. They had prepared a list of questions for their beloved pal.

One of his friends was concerned that Billy’s death wasn’t an accident, and Billy confirmed that his death hadn’t been intentional.

He asked his friends to check in on his girls from time-to-time. They promised him that they would do so, and that they would make sure his youngest daughter received a very specific message about her behavior in the future.  He also had loving messages for their mother, his ex-wife.

Billy continued to have concerns about his business.  As I listened to him talk about it, I kept hearing him repeat the word, “Tool, tool, tool.”  I decided to check in with his friends.

“Billy wants to talk to you about his work,” I said. “Did he run his own business, and does the word ‘tool’ mean anything to you?”

On the other end of the phone, I heard laughter. “He ran a Tool & Dye Company,” they informed me.

“Well,” I told them, “Billy’s concerned that there will be some legal problems related to closing up this business.” His friends confirmed that this was, in fact, the case.  ”Is there a union involved?” I asked, going on Billy’s direction.

“Yes,” they confirmed.

“Billy would like you to know that he wants all of his employees to have their benefits taken care of, and he wants to make sure that their families are OK. He says to make sure they’ve got the union’s support.”

His friends assured him that they would make sure this happened. 

Billy’s sense of humor was also in full swing. When I shared with his friends that Billy’s appearance was considerably cleaned up from the first time we’d met, one of his friends laughed and wryly commented, “It’s about time.”

“F*ck you, Joan,” he snapped back with a laugh and a smirk.

“That wasn’t Joan, it was Karen,” corrected his friends on the other line.

“Yeah, well f*ck you, too!” Billy retorted. This got a huge laugh out of the group.

One of his friends wanted to know if he was OK.  “I’m great, baby,” Billy assured her. “Just didn’t want it to be this way.”

Another friend asked if Billy could come visit him. “I already did,” he reassured her. “I was there last night.”

One by one, Billy’s friends sent their love and told him how grateful they were for his friendship. For me, it was an amazing experience to be able to provide closure to a group of people who had lost their friend at such a young age, in such a tragic fashion.

Happily, Billy also received his closure.  After we said goodbye to his friends, I asked Billy if he was ready to move on.  He confirmed that yes, he was ready to cross to the Other Side.  When I last saw him, he was walking toward a bright light, surrounded by loved ones, his countenance brighter and clearer than when we’d first met.

For Billy, Graduation Day had finally come.

 

Skipping Graduation

[Part I of II]

As I shared in other posts, I determined that if I was going to hear from people’s dead grandmothers on a semi-regular basis, I owed it to them and to myself to learn something about my abilities.  My practice has continued to be a nearly daily routine over the past two years, first and foremost by making sure to take the time each morning to light a white candle and to connect with my Guides.

If you’re interested in developing your intuitive abilities, I highly recommend Sonia Choquette’s Ask Your Guides and Echo Bodine’s The Gift.  Both include very practical steps and guided meditations that will help you to tune into your own innate gifts–something that I truly believe that all of us can do.  In fact, about two years ago Helena and I began teaching classes and holding forums in our community in Philadelphia, and it was exciting to see our friends and neighbors putting their newfound abilities into daily practice.

Since you’ve enjoyed the stories I’ve told about those who have “graduated,” I’ll share this very special one with you. I’m telling it with the permission of the friends and family of the man who reached out to me, and I’m using a pseudonym to protect his identity.

This connection happened just this past January when I was living in a temporary apartment in Boston.  I’d sat down to check in on my friends on Facebook, and as I sat down to read through people’s status updates, I noticed that a friend had posted that his childhood friend had died the day before.

As I always do when I hear news like this, I said a prayer and asked my Guides if the man’s soul was at rest.  I received an immediate “NO,” something that surprised me because I’d never received that answer before. I said a prayer asking that he would be able to make the transition peacefully and soon.

I logged out of Facebook and was working my way through the breakfast dishes when “Billy” (as I’ll call him here) appeared. He was wearing shorts, a grubby t-shirt, and boat shoes.  He immediately struck me as a gregarious and friendly guy.

“Hey!” he called. “What is this place?”  He was wandering around a dark and empty place, and I could see that he was peering into the light-filled doorway that was my apartment.

“Do you know where you are?” I asked him.

“No!” he called. “What’s going on here?”

When you're sensing unwanted energies, envision a big steel door rolling down from floor to ceiling between you and that energy.

He was very insistent, so I asked Billy to wait until I was able to finish washing up.  When he continued to persist, I envisioned a big steel door coming down between us, a “psychic tool” that helps to protect the energy of the person reading. This allowed me to finish up the dishes and to prepare myself for connection.  As I shared in earlier posts, whenever I do this work, I always light a white candle and ask that all information comes from a place of the highest vibration–from God.

About 30 minutes later, I went to a quiet place in my apartment to connect with Billy.  I knew nothing about him, other than that he had passed away the night before.  That was all I had to go on.  The transcript below includes my conversation with Billy.  My additional commentary is included in italics.

(First, I introduced myself to Billy as a friend of his friend Mark’s. When Billy began speaking, the first thing I noticed that was that he had a very scratchy voice, like he’d been a smoker.)

Billy:  Mark’s awesome. Just an awesome guy. Even if he does eat that weird sh*t (laughing, coughing, sounds like a smoker’s cough.  I then got the sense that he regretting saying this, like he was a little embarrassed by what he’d said. Mark is also a raw foodist, which is why Billy might have said this).

Me:  Do you know why you’re here?

Billy:  Uh, not really. Weird. What IS this place?

Me:  Do you remember what happened?

Billy:  Yeah, I guess. I was just hangin’ out (I could see a bar with a TV in the corner), and then I felt like sh*t, and then the pain. (I felt nauseous at this point, and I could see that Billy was sweating)  F*ck, man—that hurt.

Me:  And then?

Billy:  And then—I don’t know. I blacked out, I guess. F*cked me up. What the f*ck WAS that sh*t? (At this point, I saw the image of a dark apartment or house with low ceilings, Billy in the kitchen. The house was very dark, messy. There was an ashtray on a table with cigarettes in it).

Me:  Were you alone?

Billy:  Yeah. No—I don’t remember.

Me:  Do you understand where you are now?

Billy:  (pauses, seems to remember). F*ck.  Am I dead?

At this point, Billy appeared to struggle. I worked with my guides and his guides to calm him as he adjusted to this knowledge. He was literally physically fighting them, but eventually he became calmer and more subdued.

Billy:  Tell Mark he can have my hat. (bluish-grey baseball cap, beat-up looking with whitish writing on the front. I didn’t get the sense that this hat would necessarily have any special meaning, just that Billy wanted Mark to know that he was thinking of him. It could be symbolic of something else).

Me:  Do you understand where you are?

Billy:  Yeah, I guess I bit it. (Here, he seemed to be remembering what happened). Sh*t, the girls. My girls. They’re so young. A kid shouldn’t have to go through this. Aw, sh*t—this sucks. And I didn’t leave ‘em anything. They can have the house—what’s left of it. My mom’s gonna want it, but it needs to go to the kids. That’s serious.

Note:  There was something about this that didn’t resonate with me. I checked in with my guides to ask if his mother was still alive and they said no—but it was almost as if he still believed that she was alive and would have something to say about what he chose to do with his possessions.

Me:  Can you please leave a sign or give us some details so that your family will know that it’s you?

Billy:  (Looking around the messy house, at the cigarette butts.) Just my hat, I guess (referring to baseball cap above). Just tell the girls I’m sorry I abandoned them. I wanted to make it right.

Me:  I’ll tell them—I’ll let Mark know.  I’ll also offer to Mark and your girls, and maybe your girlfriend (here, he sort of waved me off, saying, “Nah, that was new—it wasn’t serious.”)  I’ll offer to be available if they’d like to connect again. Would you like that?

Billy:  Sure—yeah. I mean, that would be cool.

Me:  Until then, please find some peace. You can move on whenever you’re ready.

Billy:  OK. Whatever. I don’t know about that.

Here, I sensed that Billy had ambivalence about crossing over. Not that he was afraid of what was next—more that he wasn’t convinced that something better was waiting. I didn’t sense that he feared condemnation or anything like that—just that he wasn’t ready to leave. I said a prayer for him and asked for peace as he worked through these challenges. 

I included this later in my note to Billy’s friend Mark:

Typically when I connect with someone who has just passed on, they speak to me from their “soul level,” not from the level of the personality. Billy was clearly still operating out of his current physical form. He seemed disoriented and lacked some of the perspective that recently deceased souls tend to have. I believe this is because he left his body so quickly and was unprepared for his death. To be honest, I haven’t experienced this before. I would be open to doing an additional reading to help him move forward, because it is clear to me that he’s lingering and not ready to cross over.

After saying a prayer and asking my Guides to work with Billy during this time, I picked up the phone and called Mark.

“Mark, how open-minded are you?” I asked.

“You won’t find many who are more open-minded than I am,” he responded. “What’s up?”

I ventured a bit timidly:  “Would you believe me if I told you that I can talk to dead people, and I’ve been visiting with your friend Billy?”

“Yes,” he said emphatically. “I would.”

Expansion

When we made our plans to move to Brazil, we promised ourselves that however wonderful we imagined our life here could be, we would never limit the expansiveness of our dreams.

Here’s what I mean by this:  as I’ve mentioned in past posts, whenever we’re working on a new plan or idea, we always spend some time working it out first.  For example, when we agreed that we wanted to find a house outside of Rio that would allow us to enjoy all that nature has to provide here, we made a list of all the things that we would love to have in a home:

• a place that would inspire our creativity
• a strong sense of community
• fruit trees
• gardens for growing our own vegetables
• fresh water running through the property
• plenty of sunshine…and so on

Then we wrote it all down on paper and even drew a sketch of what the place might look like. We envisioned what we wanted and then we expanded upon it by leaving room for something even better than we’d imagined to come along.  We said a prayer that if it was in our best interest to find this place, it would come easily to us.

As is the way with Incubation, I’m not quite ready to let this one out of the bag yet, but I will tell you that it seems as though our heaven on earth is coming true before our very eyes. I hadn’t even known that I wanted to wake up to the sight of parrots (big red, yellow, blue and green ones) flying past jasmine, papaya and orange trees in my yard, but it looks like this may actually be in our future!  I just keep saying “thank you.”

I’ve been thinking about all of you and wondering, what’s your version of heaven on earth?  How do you bring it into your everyday life?  Is it about spending time with your family?  Having the ultimate dream job?  A fabulous house?  Or do you long for the simpler things in life?  How do you expand upon the wonderful things you’ve already created?

And on the flip side, are there ways in which you limit your own expansion? For example, do you wish and dream for something, but then you stop yourself by thinking, “I could never do that,” or “that could never happen to me,” or “I don’t deserve that.”  Thoughts are powerful things.

Like us, do you imagine what you want, make lists, and watch and wait for your dreams to become a reality? 

It’s a magical process, truly.

Tell me more about your version of heaven on earth.

Mountain Mamas

Just in case you noticed the lapse in posts, Live Your Bliss will have just a few more days off. We’re heading for the mountains again for fresh air and to have a look around. We’re bringing our first real visitors with us, so look for fun footage early next week.

Beijos!

Beijos!

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All in the Family

I’m glad to know that my ghost stories haven’t lost you, so I’ll continue where the last one left off.

Two summers ago, my cousin Janet was visiting from Seattle. It was a special visit for many reasons.  Janet and I have always been separated by thousands of miles, and prior to my brother Bob’s death in 2004, we hadn’t had much contact as cousins.  After Bobby’s death, she was my rock. My brother was my very best friend and my only sibling, and Janet intuitively understood just how much I needed the support.

During Janet’s visit with us in Philadelphia, we were up until the early hours of the morning catching up on 40 years apart (you know, the usual stuff: marriage, divorce, kids, death, splitting up, growing up, flipping out, coming out, growing up, and so on). It was then that I filled her in on what had been going on with me and my “visitors.” 

At this point, Janet shared that she had her first precognitive dream at the age of 4, when she dreamt that someone was going to die. The dream later came true.  She’s had many dreams like this over the years, and it’s something that her son has also experienced. It was then that we realized that we had a special connection that other families share (take a look at the comment section on an earlier post and you’ll see one from my mom, where she adds to the family stories).

While Janet was visiting with us in Philadelphia, Helena offered to give Janet a Reiki treatment.  Before their session, I casually asked Janet if there was anyone she wanted to hear from. In her words:

“Without skipping a beat, I said I wanted to hear from my dad’s mother.  I had been very close to her, and she had died the day before I was to get on the plane to see her – I had always felt tortured about missing that last visit with her.”

I went into the kitchen and started clearing the breakfast table, and quite honestly forgot about the request.  I’d never met or known Janet’s grandmother, so there wasn’t really a connection there for me.  As I started washing up the dishes, I found myself whistling, “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”  It felt sort of like an earworm–you know when you can’t get a song out of your head and it just starts to grate on you? It felt like that.

I tried to replace the song with something else, and then I began to hear the sound of an older woman’s voice singing, loud and insistent. Clearly, I wasn’t getting the message. When the voice switched to ”Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah, I finally realized that someone was trying to get through.

I grabbed a sheet of scrap paper and began printing, and it felt almost as though someone had taken me  firmly by the hand while saying: “No!!!  Use your good penmanship!” I obeyed.

In cursive (which I never use), I wrote: 

“Hello darling, do you remember when I use to rock you to sleep?  I can do that for you now if you’ll let me. [Janet later told me that this must have been a reference to her insomnia!]  Your husband is a nice guy, but he needs to let you sleep!” [a reference to Janet's husband's snoring, something I had no knowledge of].

I saw images of a staircase, a long hall way, and a bedroom at the end of the hall.  In the bedroom closet, I saw the image of a girl playing with hats and hat boxes [Janet confirmed that her grandmother loved hats and had many of them stored in the bedroom closet down the hall, where Janet would often play dress-up when she visited].  

She started with the singing again [Janet confirmed that her grandmother had taken her to see Mary Poppins in the theater when she was a little girl]. I’m certain that this was her grandmother’s way of letting her know that it was really her.  She was a total character…it definitely runs in the family!

Her grandmother also told me that they had known each other before;  she showed me images that she had been Janet’s mother in a former life (that past life thing again!), but she had been an alcoholic and couldn’t care for her. She later took her own life.  She said that she came back as a grandmother because she thought that she could have more fun with Janet as a Grandmom.

She then asked Janet to tell her father to stop blaming himself, because Grandmom had died before Janet and her sister had arrived.  She said it had been her choice.  It was all set long before his birth – she always knew when it was her time to go.

There was more, but I’ll keep that between Janet and her grandmother, unless she feels like sharing more in the comment section on this post.

As I reflect on this session, I find it comforting that once again, those who have “crossed over” often come back to reassure us that they’re OK and that there’s nothing to feel guilty or sad about. They often use nicknames (like “Darling,” something that Janet’s grandmother always called her) to help us know that it’s really, truly them trying to get through. I find it reassuring that the emotions that come from the Other Side always come from a place of great love.

I’m curious…what are your thoughts on the afterlife? If you could speak to a family member who’s crossed over, what would you ask them? 

Do you find the idea that life goes on beyond this physical world comforting or worrisome?

If it’s really a stretch for you to believe in something beyond the Here and Now, what is it that’s holding you back?

And what if your Karma really did run over your Dogma? Then what?

Your turn.  

 

 

Incubation

We’re back from a few more days of “Bliss-Chasing” in the mountains. I received so many sweet notes while we were away– thanks for noticing the lapse in posts! I can’t tell you how much it means that so many of you continue to follow us on this amazing journey.

Over the weekend I realized that I’ve never really written about what it is that we’re going to be doing while we’re here in Brazil.  I know a few of you have been wondering, haven’t you? For some reason, I feel compelled to tell you that no, we are not independently wealthy, nor do we have plans to live off our savings so that we can go to the beach every day (believe it or not, in almost 4 weeks of living here, I’ve only been to the beach twice!). I guess that could be fun for a little while, but that is SO not my style.

So this quick little post is to let you know that Yes, Virginia, there is a Plan.

One reason that I haven’t filled you in on it yet is because of a little thing called “Incubation.”  In past posts, I’ve mentioned that Helena and I often work with something called “Manifesting.” It’s something that’s based on the Law of Attraction, the belief system that we create our own realities. Positive or negative, we are what we think.

When Helena and I created this crazy-wonderful dream of ours, what got us to the place we are now is that we continued, day-by-day, to stay totally committed to the best and most beautiful vision we could create for our life. When Doubt set in, we acknowledged it, understood it for what it was and kept on moving.

Still, there comes a point when you really do have to “let go and let God.” (I always thought that was such a corny saying, but I have to admit that it’s true!)  This period is called ”Incubation.” Basically, it means that after you’ve envisioned your Bliss in vibrant, living technicolor–be it a new house, the perfect relationship, your dream job, or simply happiness on a daily basis–you have to get out of the way and allow it to happen.

A friend of mine recently demonstrated this in her blog when she wrote about how she had always envisioned selling her own art. She saw the dream, put in a ton of hard work, and then relaxed and allowed the rest to happen.  Within just a few months, she’s practically got more work than she can handle! What an amazing position to find yourself in.

Part I of our Dream was just getting here. Now that we’ve done it, having quit our jobs, sold our house and most of our possessions, we’re moving at lightspeed into Part II.  I’ve given you a few hints here and there about what we plan to do and how we plan to make this next phase happen, and we are feeling blessed and grateful and a bit hyper-amazed tonight, because everything that we asked for is blossoming before our eyes.

So tonight, what I really want to say is THANK YOU.

Thank you, thank you, thank you for the beautiful blessings in my life.

And to all of you, fellow travelers, what I want you to know that whatever it is that you’re hoping for, whatever it is that you’re wanting for your life, whatever you is that you want to believe but are afraid to believe, whatever thing, no matter how inconsequential or improbable or fantastic…

…you can make it happen.

The Skin You’re In

I once joked to Helena that a Carioca man over the age of 60 seems to need only four things:

• a black Speedo
• flip-flops
• a newspaper, tucked firmly under the elbow, and
• back hair

If you ever visit Rio, one of the first things you’ll notice is that Cariocas have a very open sense of style.  When I walk to the beach each morning, I’m surrounded by sun worshipers in bikinis and sarongs (and yes, thongs!); men and women of all ages, shapes and sizes in exercise shorts and bare chests or bikini tops; 90+ year-old men power-walking in teeny swim trunks and sneakers (I promise you that I will capture this on film!) and surfers walking barefoot and dripping wet along Copacabana’s tiled streets, side-by-side with business men and women in suits.

People think nothing of stopping at the ATM to get cash or to stop in Zona Sul (the local grocery chain) wearing a pair of tiny shorts and a bikini top. It’s just not a consideration.

This came to mind a few minutes ago as I was getting ready for my shower. I looked out the window at the apartment opposite ours and saw a woman, about 60, standing naked in her living room, remote in hand, flipping through the TV channels.

It’s about the 5th time in 3 weeks that I’ve been startled by naked neighbors. You would think that with 2 apartment buildings facing ours, people would invest in curtains. Claro que nao!  The windows stay wide open, curtain-free, until bedtime.

I’ve always found it surprising that when Cariocas dress to go out to dinner, they’re actually quite modest. When I hit the town, it’s usually “the girls’” night out. Not here! When dressing for dinner at nicer restaurants, women rarely show cleavage and men usually wear pants and button-down shirts. Nighttime in Rio requires a completely different dress code.

As I walk amongst so much skin, I often find myself thinking of my old uniform. When I left the US 3 weeks ago, I donated my entire work wardrobe to Good Will.  Suits, dresses, heels, skirts…gone.  Hopefully, Elie Tahari, Ann Taylor and friends have helped someone else to find their dream job. 

Tonight, I find myself reflecting on the roles our costumes play.  By exchanging power suits for shorts and flip-flops, and makeup for sunscreen, what have I really uncovered?  Is there a part of me that’s still hiding under there somewhere?

Tell me about the skin you’re in.

Gratitude

In no particular order:

• A perfect day to swim in one of the world’s most beautiful beaches, just a 5-minute walk from our apartment: 
  Vamos a Praia

  

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• Waves crashing against my skin/remembering wonder/loving the skin I’m in
• The gift of flexibility;  daily opportunities to practice it
• 3 weeks in Rio = our first 3 clients!
• Designing a new work wardrobe. Business casual:  shorts, tank top, Havaianas (flip-flops), lip balm.  Business dress:  white cotton pants, tank top, sandals, lip gloss.
• Family and friends who send me love and support on a daily basis
• Recognizing the ability to create family wherever I go
• Owner of possible future Dream House proudly told us that he has never used agro-toxins (pesticides) in any of his gardens at any time!
• Celebrating my friend’s success: 
  Comida Viva

  

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• 30 SPF
• Papayas
• No TV for a month
• Waking up more in love each day
• Never running out of things to say
• Feeling so clearly gringa and yet so perfectly at home
• Eu estou aprendendo Portugues, pouco a pouco (e gentes me entendem)!
• Asking for help/opening to new possibilities/expecting miracles
• Knowing with each breath that I made the right decision

Open for Business

After my readings with John, Kristina, Alicia and others, I began to feel the weight of the responsibility that came with acknowledging my abilities.  In many ways, I felt a bit like an out-of-control 4-year-old on a bike with training wheels; delighted with the possibilities ahead, and more than slightly fearful of what was ahead as I careened around each corner on loose and wobbly wheels.

For example, now that I was “Open for Business,” I noticed that sometimes strange presences seemed to pop in to see if I was truly open.  Certain places collected what I came to refer to as the “Party People;” dark energies that drained my energy and left me feeling irritable. Pubs were especially hard–and trust me, I’ve always been a gal who can belly up to the bar and knock back a few.  But I began noticing that when we went to our local hang with friends, the fun changed.

There were other occasions when I noticed that sometimes after Helena had been treating a client who was feeling depressed or lonely or sad, I would also feel depressed, lonely, and sad.

I also started developing other quirky abilities that were even more unsettling.  One Sunday when Helena and I were enjoying a late brunch (pre-raw), I was feeling distracted by a man sitting at a booth across from us.  From my position, I could only see one side of his face as he ate and talked with his friend.  Strangely, I kept getting the image of him as a woman, dressed in a beautiful 1940′s-era red belted suit and hat.  Weird!  Helena noticed my distraction and finally asked,

“Why do you keep staring at that man?”

Warily, I answered: “Would you believe me if I told you that I think that man was a prostitute in another life?”

As always, Helena answered, “Of course.  What do you see?”

I shared with her that I kept seeing the image of a woman in a red suit being followed by a jealous lover.  He was chasing her down a dark street, and when he caught up with her, he grabbed her by the arm, spun her around, and shot her in the left eye.

As I explained the scene, Helena looked concerned, so I brushed it off, saying something like, “Just ignore me…all of this freaky psychic stuff is finally getting to me!”

We went on with our brunch and were about to pay our bill when Helena grabbed me by the arm and said, “Look!”  The man who I’d been focused on had gotten up from his booth. He had turned away from us to put a tip on the table, and as he turned to face us, I saw that in place of his left eye was a glass eye.

Past lives? Are you kidding me? 

I decided that it was time to start paying attention to the pile of books that had accumulated on my bedside table. For my entire life, I’ve always been fascinated by ghost stories, witches, fortune tellers, and the paranormal, but I knew that I didn’t want to be that kind of an intuitive. Palm readings and tarot cards? No ma’am. I wanted to use my abilities for Good. So I focused my energy on learning to work with the Light. 

One in particular book stands out as being a pivotal part of my education, Sonia Choquette’s Ask Your Guides.  It helped me to understand that before I received information from anywhere–be it someone’s deceased relative, in the basement of a friend’s house, or from my own personal Spirit Guides–I needed to first ask that the information come from a place of Love and Light, and from the highest vibration.

To this day, I always light a white candle and pray that the information I receive comes only from the Divine Spirit that I know as God.

I also learned  how to protect myself from unwanted presences that drain my energy.  For example, when I walked into meetings at work that I could just “feel“ were going to be contentious or heated, I imagined myself surrounded in light inside so that I wouldn’t pick up the angry or competitive feelings that I sensed in the room. 

Wait a minute…isn’t that just intuition? Or a hunch? Yup. And it’s an ability that all of us carry…I bet most of you have stories of hunches that later turned out to be correct.  Abilities that you use on a day-to-day basis like making a right turn instead of your usual left for no other reason than you “sensed” there might be traffic, only to find out later that there was a huge accident ahead blocking your morning commute.

I like to think that the only difference between my intuition and your hunches is that I listen just a bit more closely.

Over time, I’ve learned to reign in my abilities and to develop better accuracy.  I also developed more control over who and when I allowed to “visit” by placing an imaginary steel door between me and my uninvited guests.

In my next post, I’ll recount one particularly funny example of the time a guest insisted on staying for lunch.

In the meantime, I’m Open for Business. Tell me your stories…I know you’ve got some!

P.S.  Happy Birthday, Granny Pat!  I know you and Bobby are having a good ole’ time…save some fun for me!

Dream House #1

There’s something about mountain life that pulls me.  The sounds are different, the light is different;  somehow, there’s a change in perspective that seems to be a direct result of the change in altitude.

This is why we went Bliss-Chasing in the mountains above Rio.  In a little more than an hour, we made what felt like a vertical journey above the city.  Here’s a little slice of the drive up: 

Drive to Serra dos Orgaoes Mountains

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We drove to an area that Helena has taken me to visit many times in the past.  It’s an ecologically protected area adjacent to a portion of  Brazilian National Park, set in a valley in the Serra dos Órgãos mountains.  This valley has been gifted with an abundance of waterfalls, natural springs, fruit trees, and soil so rich that farmers are planting at seemingly impossible angles.

When we created the Brazil Dream so long ago, we dreamed of living in these mountains one day, but couldn’t imagine that it could actually be our reality one day.  And here we are.

I’ve broken this trip into two posts because there’s just too much to show to include it all in one post, but also because the next post includes another piece of our Bliss.  It seems that in this field trip, we were lucky enough to have two really unbelievable dreams in one night.

Helena and I often practice something that we like to call “Manifesting.”  When there’s something we really, really want to invite into our lives, the first thing we do is to ask that this wish be for the Good of everyone involved. Then we pray for that to be so.

Next, we make a very specific list of our wishes, sort of like an instruction manual for the Universe.  Then we say another prayer, and we send it to God to do the rest, asking again that if it’s not in our best interest to want this, that we’re willing to let it go.

Here’s what was on our list for our Dream House:

1. Fresh, running spring water
2. Access to fresh organic produce (preferably grown by us)
3. Fruit trees
4. Peaceful
5. Safe, private
6. Sunny
7. 3-4 bedrooms
8. Friendly neighbors
9. No repairs need to be made

Would be nice, but not essential:

1. Casa de caseiro (a house for the person who in Brazilian law must be hired to watch the land when we’re not on the property–still a very strange concept for me)
2. Wood-burning stove
3. Lawn (since many houses just have wild, untamed land around them)

We made this list about a week ago, then we asked that the process would be fun and easy.

Next, Helena made a call to a friend of hers who lives in these mountains and told her to keep an eye out for any houses for us. In Brazil, everything works by word of mouth.  Two days later, Bette called to say that she knew of a place that her friend has been considering selling. So yesterday afternoon, we made the trip up. We stayed in an incredible place, which I’ll show you in tomorrow’s post (since it’s bedtime).

This morning, after meditation and a delicious breakfast, we drove with Bette to what has become our new Bliss. Take a look again at the list above, then check out the videos below, knowing that EVERY SINGLE ITEM on the list, including the extras, is included with this house.  Just amazing.

What you’re looking at first is the guest house on the left (two rooms each with their own bathrooms) and the main house on the right. Then up the driveway, on your left is the casa de caseiro (which I unknowingly referred to as a garden shed). Then look down at the house from the driveway above: 

Dream House #1, View from Above

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Next is the view of the side yard, including 180 degrees of farm land and an old Portuguese-style church that we love to hike to from the place where we stay  in the valley below.  Here it is:

Dream House #1: Side Yard w/ Farmland and Church

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And finally, take a walk inside:

Dream House #1: Inside

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What you don’t see is that the land is absolutely enormous, with several tiers of vegetable gardens, including lettuce, tomatoes and pepinos; also fruit trees, including lime, jabajucaba, banana and mango trees. There’s also a river with cold, clean, fresh drinking water that rushes along one side, drawing the property line.  And according to Sebastian, the caseiro, there’s a family of armadillos living on the premises.

We’re in love.

Just two downsides:

• We have no idea how much it costs.
• The house doesn’t have a title, which means that we’d be posseiros (squatters). Believe it or not, this actually works to our advantage for reasons that I’ll explain later this week.

Other than that, it’s perfect. So the next step in Brazilian “it’s-all-in-who-you-know” real estate is to plan a lunch meeting with the owner, who is currently living in Rio. As a gringa, during the first interaction, I don’t exist. Once he’s named his price, I’m back in the game.

So whaddya think? Would you come visit?