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And The Tears Will Flow  Part 3 – Gunner the Great

And The Tears Will Flow Part 3 – Gunner the Great

The night of February 18th was a long one.  Initially, I was full of elation with the arrival of my grandson, Gunner. Then I had complete, gut wrenching sorrow at the news he could not live. The bulk of that night was sleepless for me and I left my ranch early in the morning to catch a flight out to Oahu.

Although I had already booked a flight to Maui for February 23rd, I bought another ticket for the next flight out of Flagstaff without canceling the first one. No time to do that. At first, I wasn’t sure where to go; Maui or Oahu. If our little wonder boy was going to die, shouldn’t I head to Maui to be with my family there and wait for Sarah, Jacob and Gunner’s casket? Ultimately, Chelsea and Hannah, who were already on Oahu, asked me to fly there to be with them. They believed it best for me to be with Sarah as quickly as possible; she would need me.

Usually I have something to write on when I travel, but the packing I did for this trip was abysmal (to put it mildly). In addition to not bringing the right shoes, clothes or any of the items I’d already been excited about bringing to Maui for Gunner’s birth (presents, cards, scarves… crystals and sage), I neglected to bring my notebook. All I had was Diana Gabaldon’s latest book, “Go Tell The Bees That I’m Gone” (which must’ve weight 20 pounds) which I somehow thought I would be able to read. The shit we do while in shock, is shocking! Still, it did provide some beautiful empty pages for me, so I wrote to a little boy I wasn’t going to meet. 

Did I mention how scared I was? The idea I would only be able touch child who was no longer alive and never see his vitality – his soul – in form really frightened me. How would I possibly keep it together for my daughter? I knew I was traumatized but also, I realized I was very, very scared. 

Writing was soothing, acting as a balm for my tattered heart on the first flight out of the desert. & then again on the long flight from Arizona to Hawaii. Over the decades of my life, writing has helped me process emotions which seemed too hard to manage. For the entire time I wrote, I felt I was actually speaking with Gunner, feeling him and ‘knowing’ he was right next to me, or more honestly within me. My primary message to him was to do what was best for him and I would still love him and remember his spirit. Writing like that gave me a tangible glimmer of faith in the process we found ourselves in. Somehow we would – I would – grow from this suffering. Some way, I would. 

The man sitting next to me asked me a few times, “What are you writing?” I told him I was writing a love letter to my new grandson, Gunner. Tears fell for me, but he didn’t seem troubled. He said he would pray. It was hard to keep writing through my tears, but I did. 

Jacob and Sarah, Gunner’s parents just a year before they conceived our boy.

“February 19, 12:30 pm MT – Gunner, you were born yesterday and you forgot something you need here! Your body is mostly perfect, but for the small intestine. I’m talking with Source about this, in case we can somehow make the oversight of that – um, right. I know honey, it’s a long shot, but we were all so happy you were finally here – it’s really hard to say goodby already. Your Tutu (that’s me, this time) is really feeling very human and I’ve been crying because I just wanted you here – so MUCH. We all do; a whole big family of weird ones. Seems you’d fit in easily! Whatever is the very best for you, I will accept, but I AM saying – if you can stay with us and have a fair shot at being a healthy boy – I hope you can. We already love you A WHOLE LOT! … 

“2:15 MT – Gunner!! I just talked with Aunty Chelsea. She told me things about you that are, quite frankly – FUCKING MIRACULOUS! Even the doctors are excited – I mean, who doesn’t LOVE miracles?! So, they told us you couldn’t survive, even for one night. But, you aren’t just surviving; you’re peeing, breathing on your own and making them (those doctors) AMAZED! Your mama, my Sarah is with you and your papa Jacob is too. They are fighting with you, kid! So, I’ve been able to stop that ache in my heart and I’m glad. Thank you for staying and doing your best … and listen; even a few days of you will be a gift. But, get this! Even though it won’t be easy – AT ALL – who knows what science will do! Five years go by and MAYBE you have a big surgery, but it could make life really possible buddy!

“6:32 MT – Well Gunner, I’m crying here and there, so I wonder – How are you? Are you still with Mama & Papa while your Tutu flies like a bird to see you? I’m sitting next to people who live in Houston, TX, but they are originally from China. I told them about you (because they saw me writing this letter on my book – and crying a bit), but I couldn’t tell them too much. I guess I’m a little selfish and don’t want to share with anyone… My teacher, Vicki who I felt to reach out to when I got the news of your troubles, she and her friend Jonathon, both astrologers – like me – looked at your chart. After all the years of being an astrologer, I have never seen one like yours! They said not to get my hopes up but medical intervention could play a big part in your survival! Also, 2 hours, 16 hours & then 10 days into your life will bring new information. So… I’m almost to your island little boy and in the meantime, I’m doing what I do in the energy field and feeling grateful for your little self. I love you more than I can say.

“7:14 MT – Hey Gunner! It occurs to me how you changed me today. 

One – life is too short to be unkind. Two – let the tears flow while I find grace in the losses.”

My flight arrived late, due to God knows what, but there I was in a long metal can filled with humans, for a while as we taxied to the gate. It was so late, Chelsea had already flown back to Maui. Hannah picked me up alone, and I honestly can’t remember if we cried or not, but I was SO GLAD to see my baby girl… So, so glad and I held her tight. (Must’ve cried… )

The smell of Oahu is the same as any city I’ve been to. Flying into Maui is like flying into a garden of flowers… Just that stark reality alone, felt like a harbinger of what the next few weeks would be for me. As we drove to the hospital where Sarah was, Hannah filled me in on what had occurred in the past 7 hours. 

Oh my GOD!! Prayers being answered has usually been a multi year process. This was hours!! 

As Hannah had left the hospital, our Gunner was being held, skin to skin with my darling Sarah!

The Journey of Faith – Gunner the Great Part 1

The Journey of Faith – Gunner the Great Part 1

On February 18th, 2022 Gunner James was born. His parents, Sarah & Jacob, had tried for 8 years to get pregnant, surviving through numerous and grueling IVF treatments that gave them several pregnancies, but the same number of miscarriages. They had one more embryo and this was their last chance. 

To say he was welcomed into his parents’ lives – is a massive understatement. Yet, we (the women of our family) were scared… with no reason. We had a sinking feeling we couldn’t shake, couldn’t discuss, couldn’t fathom and yet, we had trepidation. No obvious cause, as Sarah’s pregnancy was straightforward and all the ultrasounds and tests were perfect. Aside from late in her pregnancy when she developed gestational diabetes, there were no complications. 

As Sarah’s mother, I knew her desire to be a mother began when she was still a child herself. To see her go through so much difficulty getting pregnant tore me apart, but I had to manage that on my own. We are very different sorts of humans. I am an intuitive healer and astrologer and my daughter is pragmatic, practical and self proclaimed rule follower (when it makes sense). 

We love each other deeply, but often didn’t fully understand each other. We struggled relating about her desire to have a family because I had been TOO fertile in comparison. If I had any issues with fertility, it was the opposite of her challenges making me unable to perceive just how difficult her journey was. That and other factors troubled our exchange as mother and daughter, but  we respected each other, she helped me wrap my heart around her situation, we talked things through – ALWAYS – and our love was a gentle wave we have always ridden together. There is room for differences, but only when everyone involved creates space and remains kind inside it. 

A few years ago, I had a clear understanding about one reason WHY they couldn’t get pregnant; which wasn’t scientific, but energetic. To both their credit, Sarah and Jacob understood what I ultimately shared with them and how to overcome it (which they followed), while they continued to use medicine and test tubes to create their child. With an abundance of courage, they implanted the last 3 saved embryos they had left…  and Gunner’s first cells began to grow within her body. In 16 weeks, they announced to the world they were expecting a child!

At the turn of 2022, I made plans to fly to Maui in early March to spend time with Sarah while she was still pregnant and I would then be close by for the birth. When February rolled around, my husband and I made plans to drive to Tehachapi; about 6 hours drive from our ranch in AZ. After two years of being cooped up – as COVID forced all of us to do – it was our maiden voyage into civilization together. We were excited for our road trip and took our time driving there.

During our drive we got out for a walk with our Salukis, out in the deep wilds of Southern California, when I ‘saw’ something trying to hurt my grandson; punching him in his tummy. It felt like this ‘thing’ wanted to kill our boy, so I turned to my husband and told him as much. We both immediately & automatically sent protective love and it seemed as though my system worked on getting whatever this was, away from my beloveds. 

In truth, I’d hoped I was just seeing things. 

Two days later, we were driving home and Sarah called, saying she felt weird. She just wasn’t sure what was happening that day and promised to keep me close. Eventually it was clear she was in labor.  

There was still over a month before Gunner’s due date which was concerning, but we were also excited. As the day progressed, the calls kept coming in from Sarah. Something wasn’t right and they kept having to relax their ideals for the birth, surrendering to more and more intervention. Then, after hours of labor, the contractions began to put Gunner into distress, so it was decided to do a C-section… THE OPPOSITE of what they wanted, but they both felt it was best for their baby. Still, this little man, born so early was a big 6 pound boy with a healthy pair of lungs on him!! Everything seemed fine. He was strong and he was BORN!! 

Within minutes though, the doctors noticed significant bruising on his lower abdomen… which may be a minor issue, but not wanting to take any chances, they whisked him out of his mother’s arms and into x-ray. 

Sarah reflected on the one perfect moment she had when she heard his first cry; a split second of joy and knowing her dreams were coming true, engulfed her heart. She cried bitter, sorrowful tears, as she told me this recollection, but also remembered how soothing and magical it was to hold him for the first time. Gunner’s first cry gave her the briefest of seconds where she knew all was well. She thought to herself, “He’s here… everything will be fine!!” 

But there was a huge problem…

Within a few hours, it was decided that Gunner needed to be airlifted to Oahu where the hospitals were better equipped to diagnose what was going on and manage it, if it was serious. 

Jacob remained near Gunner, while Sarah was prone, just out of surgery and still numb from the neck down. The realization that her child would be taken away from her and FLOWN to another island and they wouldn’t take anyone else on the helicopter was a staggering proposition to them both. Their tiny human would be taken from the only voices he would recognize … and things just kept happening. 

For several hours, the hospital worked to get a flight for Gunner. Once they were situated and at the last minute, the transport team offered to bring Jacob with them. Such an enormous relief!  Sarah couldn’t move, but Gunner would have his papa with him. 

One miracle and another, peppered in with one trauma followed by another. We were all on the roller coaster of our lives, especially my daughter and her husband. 

Gunner James being transported to hospital in Oahu

From 11 am, HI time on, the phone was always buzzing. Our big family were all communicating via text and calls, while the local Maui Ohana were busy gathering up stuff for the little family, while one sister stayed with Sarah in the hospital. Rob and I arrived home and we never stopped praying. Things felt really otherworldly for me, as though time was standing still and rushing by all at once. 

Once home, we settled into our normal evening routine & I pulled out my suitcase so I could get ready to go meet my new grandson, only to have our lives and hearts completely shattered. 

(To be continued)


Being Wrong

Being Wrong

October 2020

Over the years of life, the one thing I continue to find is that I am often incorrect about what’s ‘right’ and what’s ‘wrong’. Generally, given time and faith, the truth will emerge, but generally it’s difficult to be honest and people will hang on to what they believe, spread rumors as fact and keep narratives alive about someone’s character, long after they have outgrown something.

As a young mother of 5 in the middle of the 90’s, I finally decided to leave my marriage. There wasn’t a specific ‘reason’ to leave, but years of broken promises kept pointing me towards the door to divorce. Namely, my marriage suffered from a lack of truth and both of us were guilty of it.

What happened next was hard. In my quest for freedom, I engaged in incredible amounts of magical thinking, side stepped compassion towards my former husband’s feelings, bumped up against tremendous gossip about me and my lifestyle and struggled to keep my children safe from all the adult missteps and childish behavior.

It was a mess and in looking back, I was responsible. Sure, my kids’ dad had a part, but I found what he did or didn’t do made no difference in the long run. My life was up to me, so the sooner I took responsibility, the sooner I would have peace.

This was a hard won perspective to cultivate.

The dream of ‘happily ever after’ once I married my husband, was destroyed less than 6 months into our relationship. With a broken heart, I slogged through and kept re-emerging again & again, into our slowly eroding relationship.

In truth, that was the beginning of the end for me, as the faith and trust in our love totally dissolved. We had a messed up relationship based on expectation, not truth. And we did genuinely love each other… madly, but we lost trust.

Without mutual respect and an honoring of our commitments to each other, all we were left with were empty promises and assumptions neither of us could satisfy for the other.

My method for handling the divorce was terrible, but I didn’t have a play book for this. My own parents’ divorce was an exercise in abandonment by my father, who fell in love with my coach and left my mother and all his kids without a backward glance. Then he proceeded to blame my mother, make her 100% responsible and gave her nothing to help raise their 5 daughters. That was what I’d lived through and my response to my own divorce was initially informed by my history.

Subsequently and over time, the only way I could rise up from the flames of my life was through admitting to myself where I was ‘wrong’ and take full responsibility for my life. When it no longer mattered what ‘he did’ or ‘what he said’, I reclaimed something profound. Personal agency.

One of my kids is going through a divorce, with all the attendant struggles divorce brings. He made a slew of bad choices while married and has the result of those choices to sort out now. Although I have a great deal of love for his former wife, I have chosen to remain 100% available to my son, to help him recover, while maintaining my availability and love towards her.

Through all these months, I have watched people within the family, old friends and many other members of the extended community, persist in placing the responsibility for the end of this marriage squarely my son’s shoulders.

If the entire community involved were focused on healing, not blame, how would all this shake down? Would both my son and his children’s mother heal and recover? Would the children be embraced with consistency at every turn? Would the community experience healing?

What has occurred, instead, is a great deal of ‘new age’ magical thinking, blame and deflection, tons of secrets and lies; all of which have the opposite effect. The fall out for this, is peace for the little ones. The offspring of this union.

My granddaughter how she feels about all this and had tears in her eyes, as she talked about her Papa and how people treat him. People she loves.

After a moment of disbelief, I realized my job was to be myself — and no one else, so I listened and comforted her. Not by making people ‘wrong’ but encouraging her to continue to love everyone anyway. My prayer is she knows it’s key for her to recognize that what feels best to her, is best for her.

In truth, I was horrified and my heart ached for my son.

Yes, they both made a ton of mistakes, but the public crucifixion of my son is so typical and so hurtful. Are we going to limit each other entirely? Is it reasonable to allow everyone a chance to grow and heal and move forward with a new form to relationships with love intact? In this scenario, it appears we must have a villain and a victim.

In truth, my son is healing. He is learning where he stepped ‘wrong’ and is moving into better ways of being. He knows this is for his own good & why he is doing this.

No one is blamed and everyone is allowed the space to grow.

As in my own experience, I know both of them have a part in the end of their marriage and both have changes to make. For now, I have to continue to encourage my child to be responsible.

In divorce, no matter who did what to the other, none of it is important. What’s important is to keep the children’s needs in focus. Ultimately, I had to suck it up and find the love to care enough for my kids’ father, to put aside all the things he did that hurt me. Deep down, I had to remember that he was my children’s father and both of us being in their lives was important. For them.

Time is often the best medicine, while accountability the balm for healing. We learn, hopefully, how to be better in life. Yet, I see so many humans avoid growth to remain ‘right’.

In this life, I’ve learned that being ‘wrong’ and owning it, has been far more expansive.

Is Being an Outcast So Bad?

Is Being an Outcast So Bad?

February 18, 2018

Recently, I read a book by Brene Brown, “Into the Wilderness”. Dr. Brown is a social scientist, which means she does a lot of research to confirm how us human creatures actually feel.

She hits the nail on the head about the Wilderness. It’s the lost, alone, “I’m always disconnected” place most people experience — some of us more than others — and generally where we make stories up about who we are but also a place where our truth lives.

A few months ago I experienced a ‘deep wilderness’ day, sandwiched between a bunch of other similar days, where my only companion was my little Saluki, Madeline. What occured activated every freaking one of my “I’m not wanted” feelings, threw me into an abyss of pain & sadness and was generally a “Terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day” (a string of ‘em).

Still, I could feel it coming & in a few ways, I was prepared. The ‘pain’ was actually comical when my husband, just minutes from the Yosemite Natl. Park entrance, plowed into a cow.

You read that right… A two ton cow.

First of all, what was a cow doing there? Secondly, why did he have to hit it?We had just parted from each other’s company after two blissful days hanging around the hot springs in the eastern Sierra mountains. My trip home was well on it’s way when I got a call from him. His truck looked totaled. He was fine. The cow stumbled away & he couldn’t imagine she was ok…

He was gifted a room at a swanky hotel because they were awesome (he hit the cow right in front of the hotel) and I stayed in a shitty La Quinta in Las Vegas to see if I needed to turn back to help him out. All in all, the event was shaping up to be just another money drain. We didn’t know how the cow was, but we knew what was required & he wasn’t hurt — Needless to say, I may have slept better at a rest stop and he would’ve slept better, had I been snuggled up next to him in his fancy room.

The reality “pain” was more about the deductible we have to pay & another delay in his 6 year endeavor to do the impossible on El Capitan in Yosemite, yet the uncertainty, vulnerability & exposure was intense. The following week, the pain involved being removed from a position I volunteer for and LOVED.

The abyss of “I’m not wanted” played over a few times in my poor little head and sucked. This took some doing to transcend, especially once I discovered that due to my commentary on the organization’s behavior towards me someone lost their job. Fuck!.

The year 2017 was “gut wrenching, loss strewn, possessing eloquent sorrow” kind of year. Top these personal things off with the real world fuck show & you could consider me one hot mess.

Or not.

As a long time consultant, mentor, mother & spiritual resource, I am no stranger to hard earned growth and the true difficulties it provides. As hard as it is to go through, I almost welcome the bumps because of my long experience with transitional events & what profound change they CAN bring.

But let’s not forget the significant outpouring of judgment from others when we are going through shit storms —People who actually say things like; “If you’re so spiritual, why is your life such a mess?” or “We must be aware of consequences & you know, what goes around, comes around (meaning, “You’re an ass, so you deserve this shit & my judgment)” and the stuff like “When you are one with God, none of this will happen anymore. You just need to be saved and everything will smooth out.”

My term for this is “spiritual tyranny”. A suffocating & hateful response from people we ought to be able to depend on for compassion & support but instead are served up this bowlful of bullshit. Brene Brown talks about the importance of belonging and how, when we can find no belonging anywhere, we are in the “wilderness”.

So what about those who feel like they live mostly in the wilderness? The outcasts, the non-accomodating sorts who rarely fit into a social norm for long, yet remain unique and even somewhat attractive…

They are extremely adept at navigating the challenges of life with grace and power even when the folks in their world judge them, talk shit about them or shun them. You will rarely find a complainer in this clan as they tend to be profoundly hopeful and eager for life. They will get the message if treated with judgement or hostility & step way back from intimacy from someone who contributes to forcing the wilderness on them, yet will rarely offer the same treatment. Forgiving… they will be, but they are not foolish. And these are the folks who tend to relate honestly with everyone, even it it’s unpopular.

Now this is the crazy part… Given what’s been happening all over the place, there are more and more wilderness people than ever before!

Outcasts, Misfits and Gypsies may end up being the norm!!

How many people have been “outed” publicly lately? How many people are stepping into the extremely unfamiliar shoes of rebellion, resistance or defiance? How many people have suddenly chosen to step away from toxic relationships, even if they are “family”?

Maybe you’re one of these outliers yourself, or are aspiring to be one because you realize that your integrity is way more important than you previously thought and if you don’t act — you’ll lose it.

Ah, life… it’s a meandering journey and we are all in this together so it’s time to celebrate your unique self & in that way, make a difference. The wonder of your life is never measured by what you own, who you love, what your credit score is or what kind of car you drive. It’s measured by invisible qualities, your actions and reactions to others, your willingness to make mistakes and ability to give something back.

And here’s something amazing; being out cast from the tribe brings freedom. You keep your integrity AND there’s room to fail. You suddenly stop being limited. We tend to fail our way to greatness anyway, so chances are you will try more things, take more risks & feel more gratitude — in general.

It’s time to welcome the Wilderness, rather than shun it. We can be available to others, but no longer a doormat and we can achieve great things because our focus is not cluttered with concern about what other’s think of us…

Ah, Freedom…

Warrior Times

None of us seem to be completely immune to the clown show this election has delivered, which is not  actually funny, but frightening. In a country where “family values” has been paraded around for years as the meter and method for living, the political party that trumpets the “family value” card has a man running for the office of the President who is the opposite. For as long as I’ve known of him, he has ALWAYS shown up as someone who takes whatever he wants without apology and doesn’t seem to be able to live by human values or decency standards, much less family ones (this has become glaringly obvious and factual, not merely political heresay, positioning or even just my opinion). His campaign has been worse than troubling.

His opponent has been vilified, accused of all kinds of treasonous things, held accountable for her husband’s behavior and regardless of her lifelong commitment to public service she is considered ineffective, a murderer, a liar and a cheat. After some determined searches to uncover why she is considered an outright monster, my belief is she made some big mistakes in her long career, but she is being held to a much higher standard of professionalism BECAUSE she’s a woman. This article was eye opening and is focused on more current accusations against her. Read that and then talk to me.

Do I believe she would be a good leader? Quite possibly, but I also believe she’ll be crucified by the other side, no matter what she does if elected.

We have two individuals from very different backgrounds, going head to head to win the Presidency & after months of this spectacle, most of us are exhausted. As of last week, most women (and many men) are reeling and nauseated. Many of us are experiencing flashbacks involving recovered memories and crippling shame in relation to events in our lives that we have buried. My personal experience of sexual and personal degradation was persistent through out my early years. The other persistent experience was that NO ONE listened me about it, so I stopped saying much.


My father knew, after the fact, when he pompously told me that rape was an almost impossible crime to prove (he was a lawyer at one time). I asked him if he would feel differently is one of his 7 daughters was the victim. He said, well he’d have to consider it differently then. So I said, “Start considering”.

My first husband, he knows, because we found out that if he reached over to me while I was sleeping there was a good chance I’d either hit him, or launch sideways out of bed in terror.

My sons know because I told them; I may have forced them to listen so they would have some idea how women feel. My desire to raise thoughtful men was one good outcome for all that bullshit…

My current husband knows because he was raised in a family where there wasn’t a sense of his mother being “less” then his father. They both worked, they both tended to he and his sister. Things were balanced in his life. Because he didn’t really understand why I was such a staunch, unblinking feminist, the back story of my personal experiences helped him see what the difference between being a privileged, white man, and an “any color, woman” was.

What I didn’t talk about was; the time I stumbled onto a man doing his business (messing with himself) between parked cars by the library (I was 13). Didn’t say anything when my swimming coach seduced my best friend during practice (we were both 14, he was almost 30). Didn’t say anything when riding my bike home from practice and a car full of men pulled over and made fun of my big (muscular) legs. Didn’t say anything when my typing teacher took my friend into the closet to molest her after class (she was 16 and left school, never came back and I have NO idea what happened to her. The rest of us had to keep going to class for 6 more months with that same teacher). Didn’t say anything when a paramour of my mother’s cornered me and gave me a disgusting, old man sloppy kiss (I was 16). As to my more violent experiences; I didn’t report those either. My experiences were repeated and awful, but I kept believing & thinking… they were somehow my fault;

“If I hadn’t gone out on that date and complained of a headache, he never would’ve given me that drug.”

“If I hadn’t been so scared and run away, my boyfriend wouldn’t have hurt me so bad…”

“If my boobs weren’t so big, guys wouldn’t make fun of me or try to grab them… ”

ON and ON and on… and on. The reason women are coming out of the closet now is because we now realize that we were never alone, even though we always felt that way.

We’ve found out that there’s a world full of traumatized women and many are reliving their worst nightmares right now because of this man we have to see in the news, DAILY, happens be a lot like the abusive, hateful, entitled assholes we have all had to deal with. Then, adding insult to injury, our fellow citizens… our sisters, even… still want him to be our country’s leader!


Millions of women have suffered from domestic violence, rape, assault, being groped and pushed around. We’ve are often blamed for it, too. And we have felt the shame of sexism since before we were old enough to bear children. For as long as I can remember, it’s all been considered “no big deal”, or that we were over reacting… it’s just how men are, or as Trump said, just your run of the mill “locker room talk” and we’re just a bunch of wimpy whiners.

To top that off, we are silenced. Repeatedly.

Without possessing a penis, I can’t imagine that men would appreciate having their private part grabbed by a female stranger, or if he got really drunk and a woman took him behind a dumpster, took his clothes off and tried to penetrate his butt… he may feel violated.

Maybe they’d like it…  but most of the men I know would be really freaked out! So, that’s why you keep hearing us ask why its ok to do to women?!

Listening to the various news clips, audio recordings and reading the commentary about all this has definitely messed up my inner calm and forced me to take a new approach to how much it hurts to be treated that way.

Probably much worse than all of that, is how accustomed & numb I have been to it.

Much like how we adjust our movements in order to function when our physical body is wounded , I’m very aware of all the small and large adjustments I’ve had to make to be productive in my life. Currently I’m limping around, feeling stunned, crying at nothing and generally acting like I’m suffering from PTSD. The constant avoidance of pain that’s gone on internally for the bulk of my life, is no longer buried… & it does hurt – a lot! Honestly I’m moving between outrage and joy.

Outrage that I have felt so compromised for such a long, long time. Joy that I can release the pain and heal. Finally!

None of us are victims, but most women have felt like it at one time or another and pretty much expect to be treated like just a ‘piece of ass”.

This election is kind of like an enema for the world. Collectively we’re experiencing a good deal of expulsion and the horrible discovery of the vile, infectious & putrified contents of our nation’s inner workings. My prayers are that this major “shit” is thorough and we actually start making significant changes in our world, rather than become collectively complacent and ignore it all over again.

There are millions of people in this country; a truly diverse display of humans. All colors, beliefs, religions and lifestyles live here, yet a loud and obnoxious egocentric group wants us to believe that only a few of our number matter. Of course, this can’t be true and if so, will that mean that we must follow new laws. Laws that disregard our individual rights for expression or ones that discount our personal value!!?? With the publication of Nate Silver’s article about how women voters are defeating D.T., his supporters began screaming about getting rid of the 19th amendment (that’s the one that gave women the vote). Whoa! Seriously!?

There are people here, right now, who want something like that!? What would be the next thing they’d get rid of – or add?

What really shocked me was reading some of the comments on social media and specifically the commentary about the19th Amendment subject. The consistent use of foul, demeaning, horrible language in expressing their views was staggering, but worse was how personal they were. Comments that were not just cruel and lewd, they were specifically directed at the person sharing the original post.

This seems to indicate there’s a fairly large portion our population who thrive on hatred and vitriol and now have a platform where all manner of ugliness is allowed, encouraged and actually getting a lot of air time – like their leader. Not a shred of respect or intelligence was present for 89% of the people commenting, many of them women but definitely a lot of men.

Seen through the lens of universal awareness it’s glaring that we are being forced to face up to a few things.

  1. the divine feminine is a threat (as are women) and it (we) need to be silenced
  2. all people ARE NOT created equal under current world standards
  3. power is more important than truth

These are all ego driven perspectives. When we are anchored in our soul we aren’t prone to believing these emotions at all. But here they are. Bold, unflinching & hate filled commentary about basic human rights, are now being lauded as truth. Currently and because of the ongoing, persistent and tyrannical views being expressed through and to us, we just cannot ignore how the world has been operating.

We can get angry, lash out, respond in kind or we can learn how to become spiritual warriors.

The word “democracy” (from the Greek) literally means “rule of the commoners”. In this country, the principles of truth and equality are written in both the Declaration of Independence and our Constitution, but in some ways we are still trying to perfect the ideals of those men who initiated this country. Regardless of our childlike beginnings as a country, most of the world does look towards the United States as an example of something.

Right now, we have become an example of “what not to do”.

And as to religion… Frankly, I don’t believe that it matters what your religion is, NONE of them are about hatred. The male dominated & political interpretations of religions are, but not the essence. At the root of all religions, there is a thread of tremendous similarity; “The Golden Rule, Love Thy Neighbor, Speak Truth, It is More Blessed to Give than to Receive, As Above, So Below, etc. etc. These principles are shown to be common to all religions.

No matter what you believe, in terms of the practice, It all comes back to love.


Being a warrior is exemplified by millions of people living amongst us now. They signed up to defend and protect our country and have offered up their lives, inner peace and health to do so. They are not whiners, they follow orders and show up for things most of us would never do. They don’t do this for recognition, but because they feel called to. They do this regardless of the fact that they won’t be provided for or given much more than lip service about how appreciated they are once their tour (or tours) of duty are up.

A spiritual warrior is similar… but rather than having the order come from a superior or general, orders come from inside. From a much deeper wisdom. A spiritual warrior is someone who understands the difference between the ego and the soul. They first try to ask questions rather than simply making “right/wrong” judgments or statements. They strive to be all that they are, not what others want them to be. They learn how to master the tendency to go along with what’s normal or even expected, and strive always for the truth instead. Generally, they are not very popular, because they rub a lot of people the wrong way. Still, they tend towards humility and are often simply committed to serving others. They don’t take as much as they give, they don’t ask for recognition for what they do, and many have lost their health or their lives pursuing this calling.

And, all of them do not use violence to get their point across.

Their only weapon is persistent, consistent, determined, unfailing and unconditional love.

As we move through this time, uncovering the deep and infected wound of disregard and hatred the spectacle of the U.S. 2016 Presidential election is stirring up, some of us are compelled to be bigger creeps, more hateful and intensely angry.

Some of us are being inspired to be the opposite.

A spiritual warrior means you don’t bite back when someone spews all over you. It also means you speak up, even if you offend some of the people you may care for and definitely a lot you have no obvious relationship with. A spiritual warrior remembers that there’s the fine line between preaching and sharing, but warriors keep trying to get a message out with love. (Love does not always mean being nice, either).

They ask themselves …  “who am I being?”, rather than analyzing “what’s wrong with him/her?”

They remember they are not better than anyone; even that ignorant, fearful, angry neighbor over there. Remembering that helps them to ask the question, “What would love do, now?”

“Love” takes her hand off the hot stove and gets away from it. Nothing said will change anyone’s mind unless they want it to changed, so she stops trying to do that. She draws a firm line in the sand about what she is willing to endure, no longer sticking around for abuse from anyone. She states her position if necessary and then stops talking and moves away.

We are strongest when we notice what’s going on & adjust ourselves so there’s some space between us and an aggressor. There’s really nothing that’s accomplished by screaming at someone and yelling in their face. That is less intense than standing away from them and calmly pointing all your energy towards them, using simple words and being 100% clear about where you stand. Then you leave.

Remember the last debate when Trump stalked Hillary with menace. That was scary to me. He didn’t do his normal blustering, ugly, interrupting, yelling thing but just glared at her back and used his energy body to get his message across.

Rather than being menacing, take the same stance and express your true weapon of truth, love and compassion… with a little distance.


Courage is required to speak up, but it’s worth it. Just look at the comments Michelle Obama got for the viral video of her speech in New Hampshire last week. A lot were wonderful, but there were more that were just awful. And regardless of her position, she’s suffered from this treatment for years, knows it will occur and said it all anyway.

Michelle’s speech offered an excellent example of what love does. She was not just being political in that speech, she was impassioned, powerful, emotional and very, very much a human. Less a politician in that speech than I’ve ever heard her. She shook me up and lit a fire in my belly, reminding me of how things are for women and made me feel things I didn’t want to remember, much less relive.

My greatest desire is to stop feeling stunned and raw. For now, I just want the imagery to stop, the heart racing to slow, the dry eyes to moisten up and my sleep to be peaceful… I want to wake up with joy again and have an easy time in my meditations, rather than hearing all the negative self talk that is regurgitating itself right now.

It’s not fun, but healing usually isn’t. My greatest succor is that I have millions of companions in this particular recovery… the world community of women who have a similar story to my own.

Love steps up, takes a position, doesn’t get personal, remains direct… and never ever stops. Love is the world’s heartbeat and behaves the same way. Relentless, persistent, consistent and true.

Goddess bless us, God bless us, Earth bless us, Moon bless us, Muhammad bless us, Buddha bless us, Shakti & Shiva bless us, White, Green, Red Tara bless us, Jesus bless us, Mama bless us…

Please bless us all so that we can rise up in our full colors, without apologizing or shrinking away. That we can heal this gaping hole in our world sooner, rather than later.

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