dreams

55. DISENTANGLE YOUR CORDS OF ATTACHMENT – Part Two

Excerpt from “My Lovedance”

I did this same exercise while writing my first book, LoveDance®. I wrote from the perspective of the heroine and like most novelists I used those in my life to base my characters. Envisioning how “Mary” would disentangle her cords of attachment to “Teoma”, I realized I must disentangle from my husband. For three days, he refused to go to work, sick to his stomach. I didn’t have a chance, while nursing him, to do the meditation let alone write it. Finally, he returned to work and I opened myself to receive the gift of the encounter with my laptop. While writing Mary’s disentanglement from Teoma, I disentangled my violet life cord from my husband’s vibrant green. The knots of our most recent struggles all the way back to those formed when our first child was born prematurely. The older knots were so well fermented I could sip the sweet wine of their gifts easily. The more recent knots—like our struggle with our changing roles as parents and the interference writing a book brought to our daily life—were more acrid in their newness, but I took the bitter cup and using the lubrication of love, found the gifts.

Mary and I floated free, breathing easily in the river of consciousness, while Teoma struggled to cling to the bank feeling very much abandoned. The moment I pushed “save”, my husband called. He was having a horrible day and “felt abandoned.” In spite of my reassurance, it took three weeks of repetitive visualizations before he relaxed and I no longer felt the painful ache of his sense of abandonment mirrored in my heart.

Now I did this same visualization with my firstborn, disentangling my violet from their indigo. My knots of expectation in their success in school were more difficult to unravel than the original knot between us representing their difficult birth. All the challenges of their prematurity and their numerous endocrine problems became one of my most profound gifts. My first child is why I do what I do, why I became an expert in clinical neuro-immune-endocrinology. The more recent knot representing my struggle with allowing them to be on their own, trusting that they would be safe and happy in a world without my constant maternal influence was a bit more difficult. The well-hidden gift turned out to be…accepting my transformation as a mother from nurturer-protector to confidante-advisor. In accepting them, I accepted myself. Twenty-four hours after I loosened the last knot between us, my wise child called me from college in San Francisco. “What are you doing down there, Mom? I feel lighter than ever!” I explained the disentanglement and they encouraged me to continue and “let go of us all, even yourself, and see, how enlightened you can be.”

So I did. Each and every significant person in my life, I disentangled from, I felt more and more free and my relationships with each person changed, transformed by love into something finer. I even disentangled from all I believed myself to be—a mother, a wife, a daughter, a sister, a healer, a woman, even from Deborah—and discovered my truth, which is joy.

Since disentangling from our daughter while she was a sophomore in high school, now that the time had come to let her grow up and go away to college, I am handling it better than I did with my first. With them, my body reminded me of the pain of birthing…I suffered from a sciatic condition (just like when I gave birth) that lasted from the moment I helped them fill out their college applications to the day I drove them up to the University of San Francisco. Now with my daughter, the pain is a bittersweet heartache, not physically manifested. The kind of ache that actually feels good, like watching a sad movie and crying your heart out and knowing the joy of being human is to feel passionately.

In fact, my ethereal connection with my children has been so acutely enhanced since disentangling from them, that I realize the knots of my entanglements interfered with the clarity of my perceptions. Since letting my daughter grow up, I sleep soundly, only twice bolting out of bed, feeling her panic and calmly contacting her (via the telephone, since telepathy is difficult through the veil of fear) and all was well. I’ve taught her to trust the inner knowing and realize that through trial and error she will learn to ride the wave of our ethereal connection.

Actually, when it came time to escort our daughter to college, my husband did pretty well. He cried of course, and while at first resisting disentanglement, he admitted to having worked on it and yes, he felt lighter, less fearful, more willing to let her go and trust she will be well. And we both began to receive the gift of her leaving, becoming closer than ever, falling in love all over again—just the two of us.

So how might you release the illusion of your entanglements? Envision your life color, whatever comes to you is fine, then envision the color of the other person. Your red cord and her blue cord are braided nicely for the most part, but knotted in places. Like a precious necklace entangled into the thread of a silk sweater you do not want to break either, but carefully loosen the knots using the lubrication of love.

I live near the beach and off the coast, derricks pump oil from the floor of the Pacific Ocean. Often I come home with tar stuck to the soles of my feet. Only oil gets it off—like dissolving like. These knots in your cords of attachment seem like tar, but they are gifts of love and only the lubrication of love can dissolve the knots. If you look with eyes of love you can find the gift in each knot. It’s not easy, but after two or three knots, the entangled cords start unraveling, setting you free to float in the river of consciousness. You do not need to share with the person you are releasing what you have done, but your relationship WILL change.

No matter how ugly the wrapping, there is always a gift of love waiting to be discovered. So just let go. Disentangling your cords of attachment will free you to be your truth—the most precious gift of all.

29. LIFTING THE VEIL OF FEAR

Excerpt from “My Lovedance”

When Mary Magdalen’s story came to me, it was overwhelming. I felt a little psychotic with the multidimensional experiences yet enchanted by the fluid reception of divine guidance. Just three months earlier, my former mentor and I were having lunch and as usual, before we could just sit back and chat, guidance came in for me—through her. “You need to reconnect, Deb!”

My mentor knew it was time to cut the cord. So she moved. Just like that and I was alone. Or so I thought.

So I set my intentions to have my own connection. And two weeks later dreamt I was Mary Magdalen. Receiving HerStory in such an amazing fashion seemed an answer to my prayers. I sought validation for my interdimensional experiences by confiding in women old enough to be my mother. Women who had claimed their sixth sense, some even making a living by working with the energies. While they supported my creative process, I could not see that I was searching for the Divine Mother through them rather than find the connection in my own heart. With my horas nature, I bared my soul and shared everything with them.

From the moment I dreamt I was Mary Magdalen dancing down the streets of Nazareth, I was in constant contact with the other side…and it wasn’t just voices, it was a full body experience. It was so profound that some of my more sensitive patients reacted to the change in me. One clairvoyant asked, “Who’s your entourage?” Mostly it was Yeshua, angelic beings, and sometimes my ancestors…much later I understood that I separated the divine aspects of me from my human self. I know now they are all me.

Sept 17th, 2003 Overwhelmed, giddy from the experience of writing the first chapter, I felt like I was not revealing a memory but living in the moment. I could smell the odors, see the colors and textures, feel the wind, the linen, the touch of his hand. I am being transformed and once again as I sit here to type, the front door blows in, the wind chimes sing, the birds chitter rapidly. A presence is here again which guides me.

Sept 18th, 2003 What a revelation—on my son’s nineteenth birthday no less! I awoke to liquid purple teardrops slipping through my consciousness. The purple is what I see when I meditate and lately has been calling me to be still. This time I associated the purple with Yeshua and we talked like lovers, old friends, companions. I am clearer now on the multidimensional nature of reality. Yeshua described how he can be here with me as Deborah incarnate on this earth, and alive and well in my past life memory. It is all NOW. There is no time. The entity of Jesus Christ was not the man—Yeshua. “You must present us as the human beings we were, I was a man first.” I asked why he doesn’t come in like this to comfort me, like with my suffering over finances. He said I could be so silly, that the security situation was being taken care of, as Steve pointed out, always grounding me. I got the immediate vision that my husband was Teoma. Steve had taken many lifetimes to be with me in this way, always before protecting the bloodline. Then Yeshua spoke fondly of my daughter, “Kyra is so beautiful, I miss her.”

Sept 19th, 2003 So much comes in with Yeshua more deeply entwined in my life. Sometimes we are merged, most of the time we hold very human conversations, and more often his energetic presence is bordering on the physical. I feel rushed, excited, frustrated. The rest of the historical details coming in pieces, I strove for clarity in a text book all the while getting more confused as the dates seemed wrong. I could hear Yeshua advising me to put it down and just write. It’s so interesting that when I relax, the verse just flows in present tense, all my senses are attuned to the writing as I taste, smell, feel the experience. As I become more distracted and nervous about the content, I distance myself unconsciously by writing in the past tense.

I have always been open to that which is unseen, unheard, unfelt by others. Although traditionally trained as a family nurse practitioner and in spite of post graduate courses in molecular biology, quantum physics, neuro-immune-endocrinology, functional genetics and integrative medicine, I trust my intuition to guide me. It is my innate ability to perceive the root cause of dis-ease that patients seek.

Bridging the gap between the physical and the spiritual, the energy and the matter, I made profound insights into health and wellbeing. My colleagues and patients enthusiastically encouraged me to write a healing book. In the summer of 2003, I struggled to compose a self-help manual, but nothing. So I prayed to be shown a way…and it came in a dream.

My dream babies, Halloween 1988

I believe in dreams. I dreamt of my children before conceiving them. I dreamt of the house we live in now. Even my nutritional formula, Genesis Gold®, came to me via dreams. The first one in Aramaic! Was I being prepared to receive a forgotten story?

One of the most profound lessons came very early. Just six days after the dream of Mary…

Sept 22nd, 2003 Just before dusk on the vernal equinox I was literally shown– experienced in body– how fear interferes with the connection. What went from a 24/7 experience in the emotion of gratitude, love, joy, delight, desire was absolutely cutoff by sheer panic while riding my high strung mare. Although hesitant I trusted Yeshua’s guidance but when Shane became spooked at something in the field, I perceived what felt like a divine set up. Yeshua kept coming in and out, advising me to massage acupuncture points on her ears, to walk slowly, to breathe consciously, but terrified, Shane bolted.

Unable to control her, I literally screamed for Yeshua, but it was as if we were cut off, barely making contact, like a radio station going in and out. Shane’s half ton of equine terror greatly magnified my fear. Even after I dismounted, she nearly trampled me. Shaking with anger, feeling abandoned, betrayed, the fear of separation from all I know was at the heart of my despair. Finally I began singing to calm us both—a lullaby I sang to the kids—“Do you know where you’re going? Do you know where you’ve been…” and through the song I answered the proverbial questions (why am I here, what is my purpose?)

I was shown that in my childhood I had constant connection. I remember speaking to G-D, but as I got older, I felt unsupported by the world and vanquished my emerging womanhood through anorexia. Somehow I believed that once I came into my feminine power, my mission would begin. How many years did I take the masculine stance in a world where only fierce competitors survived, imparting my intelligence, my strength, my courage, my leadership, but sacrificing the fullness of the sacred feminine. My fear cut off the divine connection then and now.

Slowly settling, neck arched, head tucked into me as if I could protect her, Shane no longer trembled and snorted. Just before Yeshua finally slipped fully back into my consciousness I realized that the low vibration of fear had prevented me from connecting to his higher vibration. Only fear veils us from the Divine.

Which was profound since the next day, I had to go to court for the very first time. And I was scared.

Thank goodness in twenty years of delivering health care, I have never been to court, but the day after this amazing reconnection, I was subpoenaed as an expert witness. Appearing in court brought up so much anxiety that I wished it away. And the case had been postponed for over a year, yet the time had come to face my fear. In order to become an expert witness, you must first undergo voir dire—a process in which lawyers determine your competence as an expert witness—but it’s more like being crucified.

Fully connected to the vibration of love, the protective energies so powerful around me that in spite of the defense lawyer’s tortuous questioning to make me appear incompetent, the judge looked at me and said, “God help me, but I am going to qualify you.”

Afterwards, the prosecuting attorney, also an author, asked how my book was coming along. When I excitedly told him how effortlessly the words flowed from my visions onto the computer, he exclaimed, “Sounds like you found the holy grail!”

Yes, I did.

For eight moon cycles I recorded Mary Magdalen’s life—in the first person, present tense—as if I had lived it. All the while, reading each precious piece to the mothers in my life. Of course they loved it; their “daughter” was creating something wonderful. Some were fearful for me as they peered into the future expecting this controversial book to upend my existence. Others lived vicariously through Mary, amazed as I wrote dramatic experiences of womanhood, some of which I have not lived, yet they confirmed the truth of the telling. Many of my presale readers asked if this story reflected my life and were surprised when I denied specific events for it seemed so real. Perhaps I tapped into a vein of consciousness that allowed me to flow into another’s life, experience her very breath, and return to this reality to record every sensation.

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26. RIVER OF CONSCIOUSNESS

My dreams provide clues to my soul growth. How far I’ve come and what needs to be worked on. I interpret my dreams soulfully—what is my first impression, what feeling do I have about the dream, who were the players in my dream and how do they mirror me? Sometimes I wake up knowing my dream holds great significance—that I’ve dreamt for human consciousness. I had one of those dreams the summer of 2010…

I enter a house, the one with all the doors, all the rooms, the one I can never find my way out. I’ve been in the house many times. Always my extended family is there and there is always much chaos. But this time I am not frustrated but move through the house with ease. Just watching, seeing their light, smiling at the comedy, holding the energy.

I find my way to the back deck. For the first time, I am outside the house! Below is a creek and I yearn to get in it. So I climb down from the wooden deck and skip down the grassy hillside to the edge of the babbling creek. Then I just lay down in midair and float on the water. It’s glorious! The creek sings to me, gently carrying me through the forest.

I am enchanted. The view is amazing. Bright topaz sky, brilliant green leaves, rich brown earth kissing the clear water. The energy is palpable. Soon the creek becomes a river wide and rushing. There are people in and out of the water. Most are hanging onto the banks. Some are constructing rafts. They seem so anxious. Children play joyously in the shallows. I float on.

Through the rushing river, past rocks, and over waterfalls. Never do I encounter any obstacles. Although many others get banged up in the rapids. The river spills into a swamp and I lie taking in the serenity of still waters.

Then past a bog, the current picks up faster and faster until over a waterfall, I spill into the…ocean! I am submerged, surrounded by sea life in the jewel green waters. When I float to the surface, I find chaos—people all around, shipwrecks, airplanes bombing, screaming, crying, and—teens surfing with dolphins, children romping in the surf, sandcastles rising.

I emerge from the ocean, like Aphrodite, dressed in goddess white, the sun drying my garments as my feet cross the sand. And there I meet my Higher Self. The golden one with amethyst wings. Her arms open welcoming me home. “Again!” I cry delighted, “I want to do it again!” And she escorts me back to float in the river of consciousness.

Life is a river. Didn’t Garth Brooks sing that tune? Funny while I am not a fan of any particular music, I am attracted to soulful lyrics and Mr. Brooks, among a few other artists, sings to my heart. He sings of a vessel that tries to stay between the shores of the river. I believe, this body is our vessel. And the river is consciousness. It wasn’t until after I wrote LoveDance that I understood how we float through life. Some struggle to stay afloat, some build rafts to forge the tide, some just enjoy the water. Now after much soul growth, I gratefully find myself

Flowing with the river of consciousness, open to the energies, accepting the sweet ripe fruits as they hang lusciously over the waters of life.

Excerpt from My LoveDance. Available on Amazon

24. IN THE BATH

As I told my friend, I did not remember my childhood drama until after I gave birth to my first child. Jarys was born ten weeks premature, so we had to wait nearly six weeks before taking him home. Until then he stayed in the NICU at UCLA while Steve worked and I pumped. Day and night around the clock, I pumped my breasts to store the precious milk for our infant. It was all I could do. They wouldn’t let us hold him for very long so I spent more time bonding with my pump than my infant. But it was hardly a chore. In spite of the hand pump—I was never offered an electric model to bring home and my experience with the hospital pump was overwhelming—I got very good at using that odd plastic device.

Imagining his tiny face gazing up at me, the smell of the golden down of his head, the clasp of his fingers around my pinky and looking past the tubes riddling his miniscule frame and the antiseptic glow of the hospital, I would feel let down—that incredible fullness released in rhythm with a baby’s hunger. My breasts did not differentiate between infants. They let down at the cry of a hungry baby in church, at the grocery store, even on television. My milk seemed to flow for them all. As if through the flow I could somehow connect to my own baby so far away. The sensation of letdown would fill my heart. It’s the closest I would get to feeling love. Our bonding was broken by the traumatic delivery and long separation. Only through my imagination could I experience connection.

So every few hours, I pumped and feeling a great sense of accomplishment, I would pack up the frozen milk and drive the 90 miles from Goleta to Los Angeles. The nurses teased that I had enough to feed the entire NICU.

My mother lived closer to UCLA so often I would stay with her. Nana was still alive, although dying of metastatic lung cancer. And my youngest sister chose to live with Mom in the tiny condo rather than Dad in our big beautiful home. So it was crowded when I arrived each week after holding vigil besides Jarys’ incubator.

One night I awoke from a nightmare. I startled my Mom who was lying on the floor besides the couch. “What is it?” She asked, concerned. I described the dream in vivid detail…

I am four years old carrying the baby and herding the two-year-old twins into the bathroom. After setting the baby in the tub, I lock the door behind us, both doors, the one from the hall and the one leading to our parent’s room. Mommy is upset. Daddy is gone. He’s always gone. I sing to them and when the baby settles down and the twins begin to play, I call Nana. In my head, I call to her. And soon the phone rings and Mommy answers. It’s Nana…I wake up…

Mom confirmed that would happen often. She would be overwhelmed by the care of the four of us and worried about what Dad was doing. What he had been doing at the end of twenty-four-year marriage, not being faithful. They were in the process of getting a divorce when Jarys was born. They didn’t tell me right away waiting until I was far enough along in my pregnancy so that I wouldn’t miscarry due to the stress. But still it was stressful. We were less than a year married, both starting our careers, expecting a baby and trying to buy a home. Then Nana got sick and my parents announced their divorce, we take in my youngest sister for the summer, as the whole family whirls about in a tornado of change, and I go into labor prematurely. The stress won.

Remembering my past in its fullness not just the fairytale ideal that I had brought into my young adulthood changed me. I knew I didn’t want to be like my mother. She felt disempowered by her dependency on my father. I knew I didn’t want to be like my grandmother. She lived in a co-dependent relationship with my grandfather who was a recovered alcoholic. I had no other mother figures to model. I had to become a new kind of mom.

My parents’ divorce freed my mother. She began speaking her truth. Loudly in a very Italian way, but it was her truth as she knew it. One thing she taught me very early on was how to be in the moment. Jarys was about a year old, cruising around the furniture. I was behind him wiping up his handprints from the glass coffee table when my mother slapped my hand.

“Don’t be like me.” I looked up surprised. Like my grandmother, my mother was fanatical about cleanliness. I barely remember Nana without a rag in her hand wiping up something and Mom was just like her.

“He’ll only be little once. Enjoy it. The dirt doesn’t matter.” That was the first time I remember maternal advice coming from my mother. I took her words to heart. And I became a more relaxed, in the moment mom, trying not to worry about appearances like how clean my house was, and spent time with my precious child.

When Jarys was twelve I began a deeper level of soul work. I began to clear the dust from the inside of my light shade. I began to write poetry to help heal myself.

I called the collection: Dealing with Feelings through Verse. And through poetry I revisited the bath…

IN THE BATH

the baby is crying
the twins are spying
under the door of the bath
the water is running
she bravely is humming
to drown out her poor mother’s wrath

a mere child of four
walked in the bath door
dragging her siblings behind her
a woman emerged,
with so much to hide
childhood lost in a blur

three decades have passed
yet the pain ever lasts
will ever a child she be
or worse even yet
her own children bet
in her, her dear mother they see

she fights with the rage
turning now to the page
to pour out her heart’s pain and tears
first kissing her dear ones
then calling up dear mum
to find blessings over all these years

Excerpt from My LoveDance. Available on Amazon

18. THE 11:11 PORTALS

Since the beginning of 2011, the 11th of each month has felt…well, different. After the Japanese earthquake, I was sure I wasn’t the only one feeling the 11th. So I googled it and found the 11th of each month described as vibrational portals leading to 11-11-11. On 4-11-11, I felt compelled to hold ceremony so I called up Grandmother Kathy and took her to the beach.

In sacred ceremony, we gifted the ocean with the intention of healing the earth. I felt this intense energy coming from the sun…no actually through the sun and recognized the galactic center blessing us. On the wet low tide sands, I danced the sacred union of Father Sun and Mother Earth…what an amazing experience!
Lately, I keep seeing multiples of 11 every time I look at the clock (11, 22, 33, 44). I looked up the significance of these master numbers and calculated my numerology number by birth date and it is 22…but still this doesn’t settle my soul…something more is up.

On Monday, I awoke with a vague melancholy. Then I realized the date…7-11-11…and felt compelled to hold ceremony again…but what? Trusting all would be well I opened my journal in hopes of inspiration and…. it came to me…

…These portals are DNA activations! In alignment with the chakra’s…the first three were not as noticeable to me (I can only guess that these layers are well activated by Genesis Gold®), the fourth felt like a celebration of the heart chakra…Love… the fifth and sixth were subtle, yet this seventh was in alignment with work I’ve been doing regarding the Pineal gland. And I have always known the crown chakra to be a connection to the heavens, the multi-dimensional universe. Perhaps why we bow our head in prayer, exposing our crowns to the mouth of God.

So on 7-11-11 at 11:11 dressed in violets, I lay under my oak tree to meditate.

And for the first time since I was a child, I felt the presence of Father God. He spoke to me. Explaining that it took this long for me to bond well with the Divine Mother, to discover my truth and transform from human doing to human being…to live as the embodiment of the Divine Daughter and encompass Divine Mother energy into my life with deep honoring of the Divine Grandmother.

He showed me how easily I partnered with the Divine Masculine in Steve and received it in other men. How bravely I tried to heal my relationship with my father …yet still I searched for guidance from the Divine Father.

In answer to my heart prayers of healing the father wound, He came.

And showed me, me as light! A juicy brilliant orange-red began the light show and I felt filled from root to belly…hormonally rejuvenated. Then lime green darkening to peridot as the light rose from solar plexus to heart. The greens deepened to a glorious teal, fluid and dancing with lovely lilac in the center…my heart filled. Then my throat alighted in clear blue, brilliant as the sky and here where I hold trepidation, finally healed by the blue light of truth. Then my head filled with violet, not purple of my youth, but a deep violet that circled around to red and became fuchsia. My new auric color! He showed me that I’ve come full circle and begin again at 50.

The communication was long and deep. For I saw my own DNA dancing. Not the double helix formation but a spiraling spherical star of DNA, many layers deep, no, not layers, He said, not stacked but intertwined, and I looked deeper and saw brilliant strands dancing figure eights of infinity, meeting in the center of the star sphere, some switching partners, some dancing in triplets…Seven lit up brilliantly…four more dancing in the shadows, and the last yet to be enlightened.

All the while Father God spoke to me. He explained how he watched over me all this time through the eyes of crow. My deep connection to this magical black bird that so many fear…it was serving My Father. The one I turned away from so long ago.

No judgment, no sorrow during this glorious reunion with My Father. Only light and love. Exactly what I ask for every time I feel fear. That my fear be lifted and I be filled with light and love. And now I know it has been Him…answering my prayers.

Oh, I am still very much one with My Mother. She flows through me….and I felt Her great Joy as I received Him. She held me in her arms as She presented me, Her Divine Daughter, to My Father. I am so blessed.

I arose at 11:55, 44 minutes in divine communication. I am profoundly affected…the light was so healing…I know now what Yeshua meant by My Father and I are One.

Excerpt from My LoveDance. Available on Amazon

10. SOULMATES

When I was sixteen, I wrote a letter to God. In the midst of my anorexia, feeling abandoned by spirit, I told God in no uncertain terms that in spite of my mission on earth if my beloved did not show up soon, I would not make it.

Soon after I met my soul mate in a dream…long golden curls, sky blue eyes, the body of Adonis…I awoke with hope and wonder. Where was he?

Suddenly my parents decided that my high school was too far away (I rode the bus over an hour and half to get there everyday) and the growing tension between the white and black kids was not the best environment for my younger sisters (although I had been going to this interracial school for two and half years and learned to make friends with the leaders of the black girls who looked out for me). So in the spring of my junior year I left all my friends and transferred to the high school closest to my parents’ business.

And on the first morning of track practice, we were told to partner with another athlete to stretch. All the other kids quickly found a partner. I turned to my left and there He was. Sky blue eyes, long golden curls, body of Adonis with a very Greek name to match—Stefanos Darius Maragopoulos—but everyone called him Steve.

The first time I looked into his eyes, I knew.

My soul mate. The one I dreamt. The one I asked God to send.

We were only kids! What was God thinking?

It took awhile to settle into the gift. We don’t always receive gifts right away. We question our worth. We wonder how it’s possibly going to work out. We thank the Divine and question It at the same time. At least I did.

Steve and I took our time getting reacquainted with one another. He was very patient for a sixteen year old. We talked about everything. We are both first born. He had two brothers. I had three sisters. His family was very poor. Mine was middle class. He was being raised by a single mother…divorced twice from abusive relationships. His father was somewhere in Greece. Although it seemed that I had raised myself, my parents were still together. My family loved him.

The summer before my senior year in high school, my grandparents came from Philadelphia. The first time they met Steve, Poppop kissed him. My grandparents were very Italian and men kissed each other. All my sisters’ boyfriends were put off by this custom. Not Steve.

A good Greek boy, Steve welcomed Pop’s kiss. Una raza, una faza. One race, one face. When Steve returned the embrace, Pop took me aside and said, “You better keep this one, Poppy.” I did.

Recently our firstborn asked how to know if the person you’re attracted to is The One. I told him it came down to the first feeling you have when you meet. Jarys asked what I felt when I met his Dad. I remember so clearly. I felt Safe.

Safe to unveil my heart and be my truth. Since that fateful ice cream cone. I had used my anorexia to hide Me. There was no hiding with Steve. I revealed everything. Even the ugly parts. And he accepted all of me. He loved me unconditionally. I had never known love like his.

Steve said that the feeling he had when he first met me was…Home. He felt that he had come home. He still feels the same and so do I.

And when I look into his sky blue eyes, I see myself as Love.

All we have been through over the past 38 years…the deaths, the divorces, the difficult decisions, the challenging careers, the tremendous soul growth that often feels like we have lived many lives in one…all has been transformed into joy. I counsel a lot of people and as a police officer and a coach, so does Steve.

We are eternally grateful for being together this long and still so very much in love. We are best friends, still passionately attracted to each other, great partners in creating our amazing life. I used to see myself as ahead of him on our spiritual path…yet no more, for clearly we are in tandem…taking turns leading when the other needs a rest. And family, friends, and strangers come to us for advice on relationships. And all I can say is how we got here is by choosing Love.

 

Excerpt from My LoveDance. Available on Amazon

 

Life is a Dance

Connecting with the rhythm of another, we dance our dreams into reality.

As an author, speaker and healer, I work primarily with women. Why? Because when you heal a woman, you transform the lives of the men they love, the children they bear, all the people they choose to dance with.

LoveDance is the story of Mary Magdalen’s awakening. In writing her story, I healed myself.

LoveDance is my healing gift to you.

I invite you to join her journey and heal your soul.