Soul Diary... a conversation between Self & Soul

Here is my first installment for my Soul Diary.


I sit here now and I’m like “this post is too raw, too real, too much” while Soul whispers “it is just enough… you’ve always been enough.”  I trust you Soul. You’ve never lied to me. You’ve hurt me and broken me, yes…. but you’ve always also rebuilt me into something even greater, using my pain as my fuel to return me to my greatness.






<3 <3 <3




Dear Soul…


We’ve been through some serious stuff this year, haven’t we! Regardless of how much we went through, we made it out alive. We pushed until we got through it and we both know, that alone, was a huge feat. But here we are again. We are still wondering what on earth are we doing and why do people even want to hear what we are thinking? There are people who do so we will keep sharing. Right? Right!


I just finished showering and it was cathartic. I reopened parts I had sealed off. These parts were festering fractals of me that were decaying. They needed to be purged- left to bleed until completely emptied of the poison born from the pain. I didn't realize how much needed to be purged. It has literally taken me an entire day to write this. So many times I leaked the pain from my eyes. So many breaks were needed to help me remember I have already survived this time of my life. So now here goes- a conversation between Self and Soul.


I was thinking back to last night. I had the most profound conversation with one of my most dearest friends. We spoke of things we have never told another soul… each of us having suffered such tremendously traumatic wounds from life in general yet we still manage to unconditionally love others with such a fierceness. Thinking back on this totally got me started on other things. Only a small handful have ever met me in person so not many would know the journey my physical and spiritual body has been on for the past year. Man, has it been a journey.


Last spring was a time of fasting and purging and clearing and growing. That I did. We did all of that together, Soul. You helped me so beautifully as I sorted through all my confusions. I began to embrace you fully for once and the trickle of abilities became a torrent. All those things I spent my life trying to stifle broke through that dam and just exploded back into my awareness. I finally released the last of my fears and stepped into that spotlight you’ve been trying to shove me into all this time. I know you knew I still questioned it all. I couldn’t help but feel I’ve been imagining all of this and that maybe I really, truly am insane. So you did the only thing that could have finally shown me what I am, who I am, and what I am here to do.


Summer came and the great reveal happened. You sent me back to California to experience one of my greatest metaphorical deaths to date. My god was it painful.  Soul, you nearly killed us with that one. I came so close to the brink. So many nights I cried myself to sleep. So many days I hid in that hospital bathroom icing my eyes in hopes nobody could tell I had been crying.  I felt so weak for feeling. I felt like a weakling. I don’t know… I think I cried so regularly everyone became accustomed to the swollen look of my eyes. The swelling helped to hide how much my eyes had become sunken and my entire face gaunt.


I can’t. I can’t share this. I’m still so angry and it still feels so unfair. I know I asked for very specific things, all of which you gave, but did it have to cost me so much pain? Don’t bother answering. I know what you’ll say- YES. I also know you’d tell me to keep writing because someone reading this right now is needing this right now and as I am about to type I don’t want to share, I hear my little ones talking to each other saying “sharing is caring” over and over.  I hear you, Soul. I know. So here I am… sharing some more. Just like you keep asking me to do.


So summer… we were talking about that summer. I had asked you to prove to me I could do these things you were having me do. I asked you to send me someone with a serious medical condition that could be documented before I began the work. I wanted proof. I wanted modern medical documentation of the efficacy of my diagnostic abilities as well as documentation of the results of my use of Kathara. I thought you’d send me a stranger but instead you sent me my mother. You knew she is probably the only patient I could have been sent that would make me take my abilities to levels I have refused to reach.


I’m looking back, remembering, and that sick feeling is coming back. I still feel so cheated. You broke no promises to me. You delivered on everything I asked but did you really have to rip open all the places I had already begun healing? Those wounds, I don't think they’ll ever heal at this point. I’m finally back to a place where I can function but that ache will never go away, will it? I will always have that longing- the craving for people and places and things I will never have. And I hear you right now… “use that pain as the fuel”. If we are being honest, sometimes I just want to tell you to your face “fuck your fuel. I want peace” but I know where that gets me- MORE PAIN, MORE FUEL. So fine. I’ll play by your rules only because I have no choice.


I know, I know… last summer, you want me to share about last summer.


Mom came to visit in Colorado. She said she wanted to live with me. She planned to move in as soon as we finalized a place to stay but old cycles resurfaced and her trip was cut short. I guess to make amends, she gifted me with the RV and the promise to fund the project of full tear down and remodel of the interior so that the kids wouldn’t get sick from any possible mold issues.


I feel my energy surging as I’m going back to that time.


We had just crossed into California state lines when boom- I saw it. I knew it. I knew what I saw and I shut off all my feelings. I saw my mother suffer such a massive stroke and die right in front of my children. I still remember I felt so cold telling myself that if she dies, it was her choice. When we stopped at that gas station I had asked her to wait for me to join her in the bathroom but she refused and I was so angry that I said "fine, be difficult." When I saw Fre (my husband) come out of the diner with that blood drained look I knew something happened. He said to check on her because she fell in the bathroom. I rushed in and asked her if she hit her head. She said no. Her voice though… it wasn’t right. I wasn’t sure if she was faking. Her voice sounded like she was swallowing the sounds. It was only her voice that was off. I scanned her. I did my energetic assessments. I detected a strong possibility of a cranial bleed but she said she didn’t hit her head. She had no one-sided weakness. Her face looked baseline. I walked with her to the car. Her walk was off. It was extremely subtle but I notice even the most subtle things. Something was off but she insisted she was fine. I insisted she go to the emergency department immediately and she insisted she was fine. Who am I to disagree? She is a registered nurse of over 30 years. She would know, right? And she DID know… that’s why she refused to go to the hospital.


That feeling though… it continued and my rage escalated. I sat in silence as we drove several more hours to her house. I knew something was wrong but she kept insisting I was wrong so I stayed silent in my rage. Finally, the rage erupted and I told her pointblank either she get in my vehicle and let me take her to the hospital or I call 911 but no way in hell are my children watching Grandma die tonight. It was so ugly… such an ugly thing to say but I knew she wouldn’t hear me until I got ugly. It’s always only after I get ugly that she hears me. So we went. They did all the tests. I told her exactly where she was bleeding. I told her i had stopped the bleed. She said I was insane and I agreed with her… until the doctor came in with her test results. She had a small stroke exactly where I told her it was. They wanted to release her but I kept insisting I felt it wasn’t finished. We had no clear medical need to be admitted so they sent us home.


The following day I took her to her follow up appointment with the neurologist. This specialist assured me it was finished. I assured her it wasn’t. I also told her I needed her to order an echocardiogram. She asked me why and I told her my mother presented some symptoms that caused me to feel she had congestive heart failure leading to the fluid building in her pericardium and lungs. She told me the cardiologist’s notes state all was clear and I told her I KNOW something is going on and to please order it. She asked me why I felt that way and I told her I noticed labored breathing with diminished lung function apparent. She assumed I had listened with a stethoscope but I had actually just scanned my mother’s lungs and chest. She agreed to order the test based on that. We left the appointment and headed back to her house with this seriously ugly feeling in my belly. I couldn’t shake it. I knew… I just knew and I felt so helpless. Nobody believed me. Nobody would listen. I locked myself in the bathroom when we got to her house and cried. I cried hard. I cried until it felt like I would burst a blood vessel in my eye again before I forced myself to stop. I cleaned myself up and went to work on ripping everything out of the RV. I was in a rage just ripping all sorts of things out. That evening as I was still tearing apart the interior, I heard a scream inside the house. It didn’t sound right. I ran in right away and saw the vision I had days earlier. My eldest was attempting to lift his grandma off the floor while my younger children stared in terror… the dining table and chairs were strewn all around the room, cups and plates on the floor.  My husband and brother were in the front of the house taking care of something when it happened. In the middle of walking from her kitchen to her great room she had a massive stroke. I got to her, lifted her from behind and dragged her onto the seat attachment of her walker. I don’t know how I managed to lift her when she weighs at least double what I do. My brother and husband came in just as I got her on there. I went around to the front of her to see what looked like half her face melted.


I called 911. I knew she stroked out badly this time. That small stroke from earlier wasn’t done. I knew it wasn’t done. I also knew she was supposed to die that night. We got to the ER and I sat there beside her bed in tears. I couldn’t interfere. I’m not allowed to interfere without the permission of the person I am working on. To do so would be the most vile disrespect and violation I could do to a sovereign soul. She had always said I am “a demonic witch doing those energy work things”. My husband called me on my mobile and I was in tears. He asked me to help her and I told him I wasn’t allowed to. I knew she could hear me even though she wasn’t responding. Having lost his mother just a year before, he begged me to help her but I told him she needed to allow me because I would not violate her soul that way. I felt her call to me then. She still hadn’t moved but I felt her pull to me. She was giving permission. I got off the phone and I readied myself to work on her. The staff came in and told me she had a large clot but because the event began the day before, she was no longer a candidate for the clot dissolving medication. Basically, there was nothing they could do but monitor her to make sure her heart and lungs were functioning. The staff left and I started on my work.  I pushed so much energy I made my own nose bleed. I never told anyone that until right now. I stuffed tissue up my nose and kept going until my second nostril bled. I wasn’t ready to let my mom go so I didn’t care how sick it made me. I didn’t care that I could see the skin on my hands begin to look like I touched the stove barehanded. I didn’t care that the lights in the ER department kept dimming and I could hear the staff starting to worry the power would fail. I didn’t care about any of it until I heard my phone beep. My husband texted that our kids were worried about me. I knew they could feel me even from a distance so I paused. I saw I had drained my phone battery as well. I figured I would take a break just to run to the car to get my portable charger and come back and work on her again. She still hadn’t moved, not even her eyes. I was crushed. I felt it was proof I was lying to myself about being able to do these things Soul was insisting I could do.


It took me all but 15 minutes to run to my car and get my charger. When I got back, she was awake and having a full on conversation with the nurse. That melted look on her face was gone and in it’s place just a mild droop. It worked. Only took 2 nosebleeds, a patch of 2nd degree burn on the back of my hand and nearly blowing the hospital’s electrical but it worked. She went home the next morning exhausted but able to walk on her own. This type of event would become my life for the next 2 months.


It was like groundhog’s day for me. She had more than a handful of strokes in that two months. She also had a few heart attacks, sub-arachnoid bleeds from her meds, and seizures. All of which I kept reversing. All not showing much damage or very odd accelerated healing.  The doctors were baffled. They couldn’t understand how this woman in such poor health was able to keep surviving all these very serious events. The only thing they noticed was I never left her hospital bedside and I always knew what test to demand and what the results would be before they even did the tests.


After over 2 months I had all the documentation and proof I needed. I knew first hand what I was doing was real. I knew the accuracy of my diagnostic ability. I knew the potency of my work. Hell the entire staff of that hospital knew. I knew it was time to leave but I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave her behind but she was too delicate to travel. I refused to leave.  Soul kept asking me to leave but I refused. I wouldn’t listen. All this work took a massive toll on my body. I dropped so much weight. I just could not keep up with the caloric demands of working that much energy. I was eating a pint of coconut ice cream each night. Despite that I dropped down below a size 0. I was wearing sweatpants underneath my jeans so people wouldn’t notice I was dying inside. Finally, Soul… I know you had enough of me not listening. I know you were forced to do this but I still am finding it impossible to forgive you for the way in which we destroyed me.


Each time I began to again doubt my ability, Mom would have another event happen. Although I reversed her brain bleeding conditions, she developed a different type of condition. The final 3 days I was with her, she progressively began to forget who I am. I have 3 siblings. She didn’t forget them despite me being the one who never left her bedside.  I was the only one she forgot. Often she would stare at me at a loss for a name to call me or she would call me by her youngest sister’s name. She would tell the staff who would remind her I am her daughter that her daughter was “horrible” and even told the social worker to draft up papers to put me up for adoption. My last day with her, Soul told me her memory of me would be wiped clean if I stayed… so I did the only thing I could do. I gave her a facial. I did her hair and makeup. I took a video of us cuddling as I told her I would always love her more than any words could ever express. I told her sorry I couldn’t let her go and that it caused her to suffer greatly. I admitted it was selfish of me but I didn't get enough time with her as a child so I just couldn't let go. I wanted time to take care of her and show her how much I deeply love her. I always had a wall up with everyone my entire life. I wanted her to experience me without a wall between us. That was all I wanted but I know we don't always get what we want. We get what we need. I told her goodbye… knowing I will probably never see her again. I left the next morning with a heavy heart. I stopped eating for nearly 2 weeks. A huge part of me died so a stronger version of me could be reborn.


Many people don’t understand the very steep price someone like me pays for what abilities I am given. It isn’t just some cool thing or a novelty. I am here in service and I pay a steep damn price to serve. I do so with my entire heart and the entirety of me.

This winter was a time to learn self love and I can’t say I’ve fully learned that lesson yet. I retreated into my shell and went real quiet for a long while. I regained about 20lbs and did put some effort into regaining the muscle mass that got eaten up when I ran out of fat. I would say I was able to put in half the effort in 3 months that I would have liked to really invest into myself. I was sidelined for half that time due to my knee injuries… and I think that was Soul reminding me to be gentle with myself. I’m learning though. I have made tremendous progress in rehabilitating my low back and hip muscles. My back issues are near nonexistent now. I don't look so frail. I’ve returned to searching for my center. I had lost it somewhere along the way. In my effort to work on my physical & spiritual core, I think I may have found some of what i have been searching for- self love.




Self love isn’t a destination. Self love is in the journey… the details of it. Self love opens you to powers beyond human comprehension. It connects you directly into the Divine. Self love helped me to make myself vulnerable and experience this with my mother. It showed me that although I was destroyed so painfully, goddamn it was I rebuilt into this amazing beacon of hope and healing for those that have been searching. There is nothing in this life that will ever break me in such a way that I cannot be rebuilt into something even stronger.


Baby steps are key. I’m learning this so well. I still do find myself being hypercritical. When I got really lean, I wanted to gain my weight back. When I gained some back I found myself so uncomfortable in my own skin. Now I’m at a place where Soul tells me to post my before pic and my current progress pic with zero shame of my size and shape.  I don’t know… I’m undecided on that. I don’t know if I can share that part of my journey just yet despite Soul screaming in my mind for weeks now. I get it… it would inspire some and help others to realize that we all suffer the same insecurities, the same ways in which we tear ourselves apart so brutally. I still find it rather amazing in a sick way how we can be so mean to ourselves, so out right heartless, yet be so able to love others unconditionally. That conversation I had with my friend last night totally brought this to the forefront of my awareness.  Gaaaah… fine. I will share. Sharing is caring, right? Man do I fucking care so damn much. I give a fuck. I give so many damn fucks I had to build a storehouse for my fucks to nap in. It’s good to care. It’s good for Self, for Soul, for the Collective.


Care. Love. Share.

The Business of Lemonade

Today marks the time of year when most of us will focus on the person we are in a relationship with or focus on the fact that we are single and somehow unlucky in love. We are bombarded with commercial gimmicks to make us feel our love is some how untrue if we do not succumb to the obligation of purchasing things that are nothing more than just things. Those of us who aren’t currently dating are often left to feel so ridiculously unloveable. Does any of this make sense? To me, it doesn’t.

I come from an old school of thought where every day is lived like a celebration- every moment is used to make the ones I care about feel very much loved, appreciated, and so deeply cherished. I celebrate each day as though it were the greatest moment for I know far too well how it feels to be in that dark pit of despair. I have recently revisited the lesson of self love and have come to remember how deep those wounds are when they ripped back open. 

Today, I decided, will be a day I remember to make myself my own priority and love. I’m choosing today to be a day spent choosing myself and remembering how much I need to value me. I’m looking back over these past few months and see how much has changed within me. As much as it hurt me, as destroyed as I felt, I needed these hurts. They have been the very fuel that launched me forward in my spiritual growth and journey.

Before the start of the events stemming back to this past July, I am certain I had love for myself. There is no way I could have spread love and dropped love bombs the way I was doing if I didn’t. Initially, I had assumed I had fooled myself into thinking I never even knew what self love was and that I had been a fraud making others think I was spreading love. I felt I was spreading a lie, a fractal of me that was meticulously designed to create a sense of spiritual superiority. By December I fully believed this theory and fully hated myself for it. 

Looking back, I’m realizing I needed to see these things in that light. I needed to experience the resurfacing of childhood programming. I needed this gift only my own mother could give me. It was an extremely painful gift but the result of it is nothing short of a miracle. I still am not quite sure how I survived this level of silent devastation.

One by one I burned each bridge until I was certain I was an island unto myself. Any bridge that resisted the burning I took an axe to and just obliterated. Any who meant anything to me had to go so I could hurt in silence. I needed to feel the reality of not being lovable- because from childhood, this was pounded into my head. I clung on to the fictitious belief that any who feigned love for me was simply doing so to benefit from me somehow. Not many know exactly what the scope of my extrasensory abilities are but the few who I allowed into my heart knew and I convinced myself that they only stayed because they knew and wanted to benefit from it.

It was such a lonely feeling. I don’t know if I have ever felt that alone in my life. To be in a plane full of my soul tribe and still feel so utterly alone was probably the final crushing blow. I want to say I died a spiritual death but I didn’t. I clung to that pain and I felt every last drop of it. I punished myself that way. I liken it to pouring salt into a deep wound and using lemons to clean it out. I still truly have no idea how I managed to recenter. It seems as though I just woke up one day and said, “ENOUGH! Pain, transmute to fuel and let me burn bright!!”

Not long after that, I was able to see what this dark night of my soul was about. I needed to remind myself in probably the most painful way how very capable I am of functioning solo. I do not need another whether it be a soul mate, or twin flame, or twin ray, or any other new age label that carries the implications that I am some how not whole in myself. It has been years upon years of my searching for these assumed missing fractals of myself that has kept me from realizing I have been whole this entire time. Any who joins me on this journey simply serves to add color and dimension. They are not the missing parts of me. I am not missing anything. I am whole in my light and darkness, my abilities and weaknesses. I am whole. I am ME. I am an evolution of self, born of the involution of Soul.

I won’t paint this rosy picture. I still hurt. I still am very much in a state of pain. Learning this lesson cost me my relationship with my mother and nearly all of my most valued friends… but I could no longer sustain that which did not resonate with my evolved truth. I cannot make apologies for being flawed, losing control, and being unavailable to others as I work on Self. I finally have myself calibrated to the frequency that which benefits me most on the journey and I will always make it a point to repel any who seek to make me feel as though I am not enough, too much, not whole in myself, or need to feel shame and apologize for being authentically me. No more. I no longer care about the labels. It does not matter to me whether you are my mother, my spouse, my soul mate, my twin flame, my best friend, my soul tribe… love me as I am in my totality or I will choose to love you from afar. Love can never be lost with me. I will always choose to love… love those who fuel my fire, those who tenderly hold me as I fall apart, and those who left as soon as the convenience was gone. Love to you always. Nothing but love to you for teaching me and adding all the colors you have added to this journey. 

This isn’t even about forgiveness. It is about acceptance of self.  That may be the deepest and most profound type of self love there is. I’m unsure still as I am currently exploring it. It is helping me fully embrace my journey and the beauty inside me.  Even my ugly is beautiful. This life is not a totality of me as a Soul. This life is a beautiful experience of pain and pleasure, an involution for the sake of evolution, the much needed expansion of Soul. It is a lesson in releasing and trusting in the knowledge of Soul. I fully trust Soul. I am Soul. I trust myself. I love myself. I love each of you whether we are able to rebuild those bridges or not for you are within me always, tucked away in one of the safest corners of my heart.  The sweetness in me, like pure sugar cane, can always turn the salty lemons into lemonade.  I have collected my tears in cups these past few months. I think in time, I shall offer them as the sweetest of lemonade to those who need replenishment. Not quite yet but soon. I am still very much needing to swim in my own juices, bathed by the oceans within my heart. My return is inevitable, though. I cannot deny my need and desire to spread love. I already feel it booming inside my chest.  Settle down, Heart. Soon, we will do what we came to do- shine in the darkness so all can find their way back Home.