High Altitude

Yesterday we hiked to the top of a mountain and it was beautiful. It’s my favorite hike here, with my favorite views.

About a third of the way in, you walk through a forested area. I call this area sacred ground.

There’s something there that I can just feel. It pulsates through the tree roots and the ground and into your feet as you walk.

I wish to someday go there and just sit quietly for a few hours.

Past the forest and making your way up the mountain, the views begin to wash away your memories of what’s down below.

You just hear the wind, the birds chirping and rustling through the bushes. You hear the quiet of the altitude.

Just before the very top is my favorite place to sit. You can feel all the magic up there. I tried to do a reading up there once. To tap in and answer someone’s questions.

But the answers are different up there. They come in the form of a song or a tone. Or just single words:


It’s not a place for speaking. It’s a place for feeling, for Being. For yelling out nonsense into the wind and laughing. Or deep listening. For loving.

Whenever I go up there I think about whispering a prayer into the mountain tops. I think, ooh, I’ll ask for what I want up here because we’re away from all the noise down there.

But the same thing always happens. I find that there isn’t anything I want. I remember wanting things. Down at that lower altitude…I remember deeply desiring this and that.

But up here, there was nothing tugging at me. I just wanted to Listen.

Nothing was urgent or pressing or more holy than just Being.

This morning I woke up and couldn’t wait to be back outside. Everything felt effortful. So I let myself run to the nearest park.

As soon as I took a breath and smelled the dampness of forest, all my discomfort melted away. I took a detour and found my way down a hill-quick access to the trees and the forest ground.

I sat down next to a tree and felt into the soil with my hands.

“It’s so peaceful here. I’m so happy. Maybe I should ask for something. What do I want?”

Again, there was silence within me. I just wanted this moment, just to Be. And nothing that I longed for before seemed relevant.

I used my energetic feelers to tap into the forest around me. “What do you long for, Forest?”

It was quiet. It was too busy Being to Long for anything. Busy breathing, busy connecting, busy existing.

I thought of my energy reading sessions. I thought of how we’re usually busy Longing. And in the readings, we’re guided back to Being.

Secretly, I just want to Be. I want to breathe the way the trees breathe and be the air that rushes across the surface of the river.

When I feel into things, I feel the way they feel. I like feeling into flowers. And feeling the sun shining on me, I slurp it up like honey on my lips.

But I always have to come back to myself. And then I remember that I’m no different than that flower or tree or bird. Sometimes I just think that I’m different.

Sometimes we forget to be the animal that we are. To just Be. To feel what it feels like to be in this body without Longing. And to feel into our particular and unique beauty as a living being-the human kind.

Mind, Body, or Spirit?

[how I translate messages from Spirit]

Where does ailment exist? In the mind, the body, or the energetic field?

When I ask my guides, it’s seems to vary depending on each individual’s situation.

Sometimes it’s a shift in thinking, moving energy in the energy field, a change of diet, or they’ll advise a trip to the doctor’s.

I always find it fascinating that it doesn’t matter the external ailment, the answer ranges from “don’t worry about that” to “take this action NOW”.

An externally acute condition can have an “easy” energetic fix, whereas something like a headache they’ll advise tending to with urgency.

I use words like “urgency” because that’s how I translate The Collective’s messages sometimes. Not because they’re worried, but the information coming through is so fast, sure, and unwavering, my human self translates this as NOW, DO IT NOW.

Messages from spirit look and feel like…a magnifying glass or telescope. If the message is very “close up”, vivid color, clear and high contrast, I translate that as “Most Relevant/Most NOW.”

Something that you’re most *ready* to hear or it’s a good time to click into it.

Other messages are softer, further away. Like trying to focus in on a far away star with a telescope.

That’s part of my work too, to travel with someone to that distant star and take a closer look.

But sometimes information is far away because it needs to be. It’s not a good time, or there is something more relevant for the person First, before that information comes forward.

I love the range and variety of information that comes through from The Collective. It can be very conceptual and abstract or as specific as “eat more oranges, your body is asking for them.”

One thing I’ve learned [and continue to learn and remember] is that there’s no need to panic. The answers are always here. And they’re available in a way that’s most easy for you to digest or understand.

You don’t need a psychic medium or a guru or a priest. You just need yourself. All those “middle folks” help you to remember how to listen.

Disruption in your field is always saying something. It’s not because you messed up or you’re unloved. Not because you’re doomed or life has it out for ya. Not because you’ve done anything wrong.

Disruption in your field is saying, “Hey! Hey, look at this, look at this.” And when we don’t listen it just gets a little louder because the message is important. HEY! Lookit this!

Important means your life is saying something to you like, “Hey human I love you! I’m looking out for you! We’re on track to all you’ve wanted, living some of it every day. But we need alittle revision right here.”

“We need you to look over here for awhile.” Or “give that less attention please.”

The disruption is not the problem.

In our society we want to distract or destroy disruptions so quickly. But they’re helping, not hurting. They’re trying to get your attention to revise something.

Don’t squash the messenger. Listen.

Next time, before you rush to run from or squash a problem. Just say, “I’m listening. Ok. I see you. What are you trying to tell me? I know my life is always looking out for me so… I’m listening. Tell me.” And give it some time, but be observant. Tune into yourself. “What’s calling my attention? Nagging at me?”

The answer is always there. Always. There’s nowhere for an answer to be but right in front of you, right within you. Every time.

Foggy Mountain Mornings

I find relief to be a fascinating thing. One minute you’re all bound up, and the next, you feel lighter.

After a period of feeling “off” or depressed, what is it that makes things better?

Is it all the little things that you do to improve your mood? Is it hormones? Chemicals in your brain? An energy shift? Or just the natural ebb and flow of life?

I do know that if I do nothing, it seems to last forever. But sometimes I’ll do everything, and I can’t quite shake it.

The other day I woke up and I could feel a lightness coming back to me. I could breathe easier, I felt more like myself.

Over the next couple of days, it got better and better. I was energetic, happier, more creative.

I sat with myself and thought, how did this happen? What’s changed?

I’d been doing the energy work, lowering my stress at work, I started eating more vegetables and exercising more. I spent more time in nature.

Maybe it was all of those things combined…but inexplicably I felt relief.

In this new state of relief, I listened to my thoughts. They were different than before. Here are some notable characteristics of these thoughts:

No comparing – I wasn’t comparing where I was to anywhere I’d been before or anywhere that I “could” be. I was just HERE.

Letting go – I wasn’t thinking about where I thought I would be, based on my life the months prior. I let go of the old vision of where I thought I’d “end up”.

Taking it easy – I was taking life ‘one bite at a time’. I realized I was pushing so hard to feel AMAZING and pushing myself to hit the ground running. But in reality, I was processing things as fast as I could. I couldn’t go faster. I couldn’t be HAPPIER. And when I tried, it felt like I would get an energetic knockdown.

So these things aren’t the way that I felt better, but the result of an improvement. I held on to them and amplified them. I stopped thinking into those really tangled/hot button issues I was dwelling on before.

I know that the thought streams I was partaking in before were keeping me a bit frozen in an unhappy place. I could see the beauty around me, but I wasn’t letting it in.

I breathed. I let go. I remembered that I can’t see the big picture, but I can KNOW that where I am is BEST. On the way to more Best.

I’ll say one thing about the Way to feeling better…because it’s always relevant and always helps…

Sometimes in the scuffle of life, we forget that the life force that runs through us is ON OUR SIDE. It wants our best health, our success, our happiness.

It’s so important to sit with yourself sometimes and feel your breath, feel your aliveness and smile.

Saying things like, “Thank you. I know you’re here for me. I know source energy loves me. The energy that flows through me and my physical body have an optimal relationship. They know each other. They communicate so well. All for my highest. And so it is. Obviously so.”

And it’s important to say these things out loud because we forget and need to proclaim our remembering. To remember that life is on our side. Our body is on our side.

I’ve found these to be the most powerful statements. My life is on my side. My body is on my side. We share the exact same goals of well-being. And so it is. Because that’s how it is.

And when you proclaim it, you alleviate any discomfort from subconsciously denying those truths.

I write these things because we’re always in the ocean of life. Sometimes riding a wave and sometimes caught in an undercurrent.

And remembering is most important. Remembering how to swim back up to the surface, when to surrender, and when to get yourself together and ride that wave.

The Layers of Living

I crouched down into the grass and put my palms against the earth. My feet were wet from walking through the morning dew.

I listened. It was quiet. I heard a couple of birds chirping and the distant hum of lawn mowers.

I let the quiet take me in and whisper to me its secrets.


I felt held by the ground beneath me. Not just the spinning earth, but something else. Like there was a presence holding me too. More pervasive than the air; it seeped into my cells and whispered, “Steady.”

I let myself be held.

And there, in this silent embrace, I saw two worlds.

One was the world of the mind. It was busy! There were words and images and colors flying through at dizzying speeds and variety.

I could hear bits of their noise, it sounded like my thoughts, telling lines of stories. Busy, busy, busy.

And underneath that world, another. This one was quiet. It felt thick like hot, humid summer air.

It let the other world play on top of it. Like a stage supporting the acts of a play.

It didn’t seem to care what stories were playing out. It just held steady in its own knowing of itself.

I looked closer at this quiet world, I felt into it.

It just said, “Steady, steady, steady.” And it seemed to smile, just a bit, like those statues of Buddha or the Mona Lisa.

I remembered that it really doesn’t matter what I’m doing. My story is supported. Whether the story makes me cry or rejoice. I’m still held, loved, supported. I can at any point choose to speak a different story.

I remembered to tell my conscious mind to relax a little. To remind it that we’re taken care of. And to let it be. To let go of the heavy weight and let it drop into that quiet and be held for awhile.

And watch how magic effortlessly seeps into our life.

God in a Garden

I decided to go for a stroll around my neighborhood on my day off. There was still unexplored land to tread on. I let my curiosity guide me and ended up at the doors of an Episcopalian church. I cupped my hands around my eyes and peeked in through the glass doors.

Churchy looking on the inside.

I wondered if it was one of those churches where all were welcome, or if it was more exclusive. I searched my brain for episcopal references.

Sex and the City, I think Charlotte was Episcopalian.

I walked around to the side and found a view of a beautiful garden. There was a stone labyrinth, a fountain, benches.

A few Blue Jays were flitting about. I asked if they were Episcopalian, they didn’t respond.

I stared at one and it stared back at me. I asked the Blue Jay if it knew God, it didn’t respond.

I soaked up the pretty view with my eyes. How that garden felt so protected from the outside world. Open 24/7 to critters and creatures, but mostly closed to those of human kind.

I wondered if God was there, in this space built for devotion.

God, spirit, the unknown. What the heck was it? And why did we seek with such thirst and fervor?

I asked into the air, what are you? [Asking the church.]

It replied, “A place to Remember.”

To remember what? That we’re more spirit than human? Something beautiful and esoteric?


The reply felt more simple….

To remember that this is a story.

Millions of interwoven and interconnected stories, whew. That’s a lot of story telling.

I looked again at the garden. I took a deep breath. “A Place to Remember”

I found my way to the center of the story.

To the voice behind the words and the breath behind the voice.

There, it was peaceful.