Finding the Strength to Grow
I'm often asked how I live a "normal" life with my ability. First of all, I have never claimed to be normal...secondly, I am alive. I do not stay connected like a firewire to heaven 24/7. That would be devastatingly draining. My garden is a big part of the answer. It helps me stay grounded, and in addition to that, caring for and nurturing plant life reminds me that everything moves in cycles. And, in truth, we are all like seeds. We are driven by a deep thirst for love...
This is not a article about loss, the afterlife or death. It's about life, living and fulfilling growth cycles. Isn't that what we are here on Earth to do? Fulfill a cycle of growth?
If you've ever visited my Facebook Page, you've figured out I'm an avid gardener. I live for the flowers; I long for them year round. The month of May in Wisconsin is especially thrilling for me as a collector of speciality daffodils. Every few days, a different variety blooms, like an old friend who comes to visit once a year. At dawn, I'm outside in my pajamas with my camera, tiptoeing in the dirt, with mad hair and coffee dripping everywhere, trying to capture pictures that last all year. A proud flower-mother. The picture collage is what's currently blooming: "Pink Charm," "Mon Cherie," "Replete" and "Ice Follies."
Pink Charm, Mon Cherie, Replete and Ice Follies....all blooming this week.
I'm often asked how I live a "normal" life with my ability. First of all, I have never claimed to be normal...secondly, I am alive. I do not stay connected like a firewire to heaven 24/7. That would be devastatingly draining. My garden is a big part of the answer. It helps me stay grounded, and in addition to that, caring for and nurturing plant life reminds me that everything moves in cycles. And, in truth, we are all like seeds. We are driven by a deep thirst for love, and when we find it, we gather the strength to grow roots. We all hunger for warmth and comfort, and when we find what we need, we summon the courage to grow. Like the seed, it takes an enormous amount of perseverance and bravery for us to become the beautiful people we are meant to be. To do so requires opening ourselves up to the possibility, making ourselves vulnerable, trusting the inner voice to tell us to reach for what's right, and pushing ourselves to break through barriers. Whether your current journey is on the Earth-plane: your profession or hobbies or family life; on an emotional level: overcoming loss, depression, anger or regret; or on a spiritual level, the needs are the same, and the demand upon us is commanding. It is not easy being a seed, not knowing our potential. But indeed, it is there.
I don't always write in metaphors, but when I journal, I allow my thoughts to fall out as they come--and let's face it, seeing the parallels between the flower life cycle and our lives as human beings is, well, natural. I share this personal journal entry with the hope that the blooming Spring flowers will inspire you to see your own potential, appreciate the journey of development, and embrace the opportunities for growth in your life.
A wilted flower that drops to the earth on a hot, August afternoon: drying, shrinking, falling into the dirt. The leaves came and covered it, burying its floral remains. What was left was the seed, protected by a hard shell, it froze in the darkness under the cover of the mulch. Frozen, dark and still. For what seemed forever.
The seed lies beneath, growing wary of winter, its shell starting to wear thin from the stress of extreme conditions. It finally cracks; the opening appears.
The seasons change, the snow melts, the ground absorbs the water, soggy...the stressed seed, cracked and now open, takes the drop of water and the germination begins.
In that moment there is magic.
The water enters the crack.
The seed, forever changed.
Moves so slight.
Swells
Swells
Swells
Sheds its skin, breaking free of Winter's grip...it grows.
It's so difficult pushing through the dark dirt. Having no idea that just above the surface, the entire world is waiting. Instinctively, it reaches for warmth. The roots begin to gain ground and provide strength. And for the first time, the new life shows itself to the world. Rejoicing in the delight of the unfolding green, it attracts attention against the mud.
It grows; showing the world its development, one leaf at a time. Becoming mature, seasoned against the elements and conditions, the stalk readies itself to fulfill its destiny.
It has no idea what it's capable of. The struggle of Winter can nearly kill the spirit.
All of the energy used in growth, strong, tall, green, it still has no idea that residing inside of its bud is an outrageous, scene-stealing, fragrant blossom that will attract every bird and butterfly for miles around.
It was always the providence of the seed, yet, it cannot be forced. It comes in its time.
No one really pays attention to a growing flower. It's the blossom that is so desirable. Without the growth, there would be no flower. You have to surrender to the whole cycle and love every part of it.
©Mollie Morning Star 2014 Short excerpts of this article may be shared on the internet provided a live link back to this original source is used. Reproduction in print is prohibited.
Offering Just the WRITE words.
Last week, I found myself on an early morning flight home on my birthday, crammed in the middle seat with my laptop, trying to catch up on emails. As I sat there tapping away at the keyboard, focusing, I became aware of a deep, loud male voice from the row behind me when my ear caught the word, "birthday."
"Tomorrow is my wife's 51st birthday."
"This week is really hard, Mother's Day is Sunday."
"She got to see her daughter married...
Last week, I found myself on an early morning flight home on my birthday, crammed in the middle seat with my laptop, trying to catch up on emails. As I sat there tapping away at the keyboard, focusing, I became aware of a deep, loud male voice from the row behind me when my ear caught the word, "birthday."
"Tomorrow is my wife's 51st birthday."
"This week is really hard, Mother's Day is Sunday."
"She got to see her daughter married on November 29th, that was the last happy thing she did."
"She told me "Good night" on December 15th, and was gone 10 minutes later. She had a stroke in bed. She just went to sleep."
"I'm taking her ashes to spread with her mother's. She's right there in my duffle bag on the floor. I'm 41, but she'll be 51 tomorrow. Tomorrow is her birthday."
I sat there stunned. My chest started aching for his pain. He was trying to medicate his wounds by drawing in anyone who would listen to him. He needed something...a connection...not necessarily a connection to his wife, but a connection to LIFE, to compassion, to someone who could deliver to him the balm of hope.
I closed my eyes for a few minutes and asked myself, "How can I best serve him under these conditions?" I remembered in my handbag I had a small, unused card. The front of the tiny card was covered with hearts and said LOVE on it. I fished it out, and listened to my heart for the words that, however brief, would somehow say what he needed to hear.
On your wife's birthday, remember the love. You are loved.
As I got off the plane, I turned around and pressed it into his hand.
"Open this tomorrow; it's a birthday gift for you." I said. His eyes welled up with tears.
"Yes, ma'am, I will do that tomorrow. Thank you, thank you so much."
I have no idea how his story ends. And that is the beauty of it. You can never know the effect a few kind words can have on a stranger, but you need to say them anyway.
The experience reminded me of the Valentine Extravaganza back surgery I had two years ago on January 31. (who turns back surgery into a party???) The doctor told me to expect to be flat out and on painkillers for about three weeks. I can barely sit still for three hours, (let alone three weeks!), so I planned to pass the time in Lala Land making Valentine cards for anyone who was lonely or would otherwise not receive one. An old calendar served as a source for cutting out thousands of little hearts that I glued onto a hand-drawn and painted tree. I put a note up on my Facebook page for people who had lost a partner or needed some cheer to email me their home address. Of course, that was CRAZY MAKING! I ended up sending out a few hundred hand-made cards... BUT IT WAS SO AWESOME! It was so fun because every single day strangers were emailing saying I made their day, they loved their card and they felt so special. In fact, people still send me notes letting me know they kept the card I made for them. It made my recovery so much easier and more joyful.
Operation: Valentine Extravaganza Back Surgery in full swing.
I saw this story online, and instantly loved what was happening. This woman wrote 3000 letters of encouragement to others when she was feeling suicidal. Read it here.
Offering compassionate service, encouragement and kind words to anyone can help us rise above our own funk. Yes, I said FUNK. Life can get funky...you can either go down to Funkytown or you can get out some paper and write something nice to a friend, relative or a complete stranger and possibly change their day, maybe even their life.
Action challenge: You guessed it. Send someone your words of kindness, encouragement or joy.
©Mollie Morning Star 2014 Short excerpts of this article may be shared on the internet provided a live link back to this original source is used. Reproduction in print is prohibited.
A Mother's Day Gift from Spirit
When your child lives in Heaven, your commitment as a parent is a million times harder to fulfill. The "work" is never done! If you think it's bad to deal with a mountain of laundry, dirty dishes and endless school meetings, I can assure you, dealing with the ABSENCE of these privileges is, literally, a million times harder. Talk about becoming a pillar of strength that holds the family together....yes, this is the path of the bereaved parent. Endless work, mostly on yourself.
What a joy and privilege it is to create life and be a mother, and likewise, how difficult the path is for those who have had to put their joy "on hold" after the loss of a child. One thought I offer for consideration is that once you have become a parent, you are always a parent. The acts of loving a child can never be undone; it truly is an eternal relationship that is forever alive and vital. It always breaks my heart when I meet a bereaved parent who declares they are no longer a parent since their child died. While I can understand the depth of that feeling, there is nothing I wish I could do more than help a person realize their child is still alive, still connected and still....their child. When your child lives in Heaven, your commitment as a parent is a million times harder to fulfill. The "work" is never done! If you think it's bad to deal with a mountain of laundry, dirty dishes and endless school meetings, I can assure you, dealing with the ABSENCE of these privileges is, literally, a million times harder. Talk about becoming a pillar of strength that holds the family together....yes, this is the path of the bereaved parent. Endless work, mostly on yourself.
I recall a session I did several years ago in early Spring for a bereaved mother named Sheryl, connecting to her shining, teenage son, Tyler. The connection was great, with wonderful, clear evidence and validations. Tyler pulled a fast one on me when he told me to communicate to his mother that he'd be sending her a "Mother's Day gift this year." Instantly I protested to him, thinking, "You can't do that, you can't make future promises and predictions!" My logic got in the way, and I thought, "How can he possibly provide her with a specific gift without the benefits of a body, money and physicality?" Thankfully, he persisted and I passed the message on to her: "Your son is sending you a Mother's Day gift."
So, after Mother's Day I received a note from Sheryl about her "gift" and it remains one of the most remarkable stories of hope I have been a party to. On that Mother's Day Sunday, it happened to be nice weather and she was doing yard work with her family. They had left the garage door open, as most of us do when we are working in the yard. After hearing a crash in the garage, Sheryl walked in and saw that something hung on a pegboard that had been attached to the wall for many years had fallen onto the floor, backside up. In front of her was her "gift." Many years ago, when Tyler was a little boy, Sheryl had allowed him to play with paint on the backside of it, a moment she had long forgotten. A two hearts; one "Ty" and one "Mom," with the message, "Love" above them, had been hand-painted there by a precious, perfect son who somehow created a situation where something fell off the wall, at an exact moment, on a specific day, to soothe, heal and comfort. I'm listing that one right up there among small miracles!
You are loved by those in Spirit, whether it's your own mother who is now caring for you spiritually, or a beloved child who is trying to say, "I'm still here!" The love is forever.
You can read more about Sheryl's connections in her book, "Walking on Sunshine."
©Mollie Morning Star 2014 Short excerpts of this article may be shared on the internet provided a live link back to this original source is used. Reproduction in print is prohibited.
Ordering from the menu of the Past?
"It's like she's gone into an amazing restaurant and ordered without looking at the menu based only on what she's eaten in the past," said the man in Spirit. "She's already decided what she'll have for her future, but she doesn't realize the choices are more incredible than she can imagine."
"It's like she's gone into an amazing restaurant and ordered without looking at the menu based only on what she's eaten in the past," said the man in Spirit. "She's already decided what she'll have for her future, but she doesn't realize the choices are more incredible than she can imagine."
The young widow replied gently, "He's right, but I just want him to know that he is my one and only love."
Sometimes in life we find ourselves relying upon our past to serve as a benchmark for our future. This is especially prevalent when we've experienced a loss; the pain from the loss can be so raw that our vision for our future becomes limited; we only want to hold on to or recreate the joy we have already experienced. It doesn't really register that something EVEN BETTER might be available.
Rabbit dish from "beast+bottle" in Denver, CO.
If you haven't lost the love of your life, or your only child, this way of thinking might be hard to understand, but I see it all the time. We can't imagine loving another partner, or including another child in our life, because we are thinking, "My loved one cannot be replaced."
And that is exactly right. We can never replace someone we love.
What we can do is invite and create situations where we are able to experience love again. Those new situations will have absolutely nothing to do with the person who died or left our life. I have had scores of people book sessions with me over the years with the underlying need to make sure their deceased spouse is okay with them having a new relationship.
I can assure you that universally, the people you love who have passed to Spirit want you to fill your life with loving experiences. You are not being disloyal to a deep, meaningful relationship by experiencing another one. You are simply creating more love. It can be a huge challenge to TRUST the process, to allow love to enter without completely freaking out because this new love might also die or leave.
So, we end up ordering off the menu of our past, completely limiting ourselves from experiencing a fullness that we can't imagine.
"I'll never love anyone as much as I loved her."
"I'll never get married again."
"I don't have the capacity to love another child that deeply."
The fact is, whether these sentiments are true is uncertain, simply because we haven't opened ourselves up to the possibilities. We haven't even opened ourselves to the chance to love and be loved again.
Ordering from my past menu came up for me in a gorgeous restaurant called " beast + bottle" in Denver Sunday night, after my group event. My friends ordered a rabbit appetizer, and simply seeing the word "rabbit" on the menu flooded me with bad memories. When I was about 9, I was eating dinner at a friend's house one evening when her Dad confessed that the meat in the stew was rabbit. Now, I was not very open to trying new foods at that point in my life, and his admission sent me under the table gagging. As a very hard-headed little girl, I was turned off rabbit FOREVER. Until last night. Out came this gorgeous plate of braised fennel (my favorite vegetable), multi-colored carrots, parsnips and bits of braised rabbit in a light sauce. I couldn't help myself, it was so beautifully presented....the flavor was incredible. I hate when I have to be sneaky about licking a plate in public. Ahem, sorry Peter Cottontail, I'm converted...and I am going to be more conscious about my PAST MENUS; they stopped delivering long ago.
Ordering from the menu of the past time and again will only get us the same results. So while it is possible to order up another plate of grief, loneliness or regret, it's important to remember we have unlimited menu options available to us. Life is meant to be a feast for the soul, a buffet of opportunities for happiness.
Why not set down the menu of the past, and begin creating something delicious for your future? You never know, you might discover entirely new ways to savor life.
©Mollie Morning Star 2014 Short excerpts of this article may be shared on the internet provided a live link back to this original source is used. Reproduction in print is prohibited.
Proactively Transforming Grief
How can science help us deal with grief, one of life's most challenging emotions? Let's take a look at energy. It is understood that energy can be converted or transferred in its form, but not created or destroyed. Love is an energy, and though we can't necessarily list it as kinetic...
How can science help us deal with grief, one of life's most challenging emotions? Let's take a look at energy. It is understood that energy can be converted or transferred in its form, but not created or destroyed.
Love is an energy, and though we can't necessarily list it as kinetic, nuclear or electric energy, we do know it's a powerful force. The energy of love has been motivating humankind for millions of years to take positive action on behalf of others. This is apparent in everything from worldwide compassion efforts to relieve starvation, to the simple act of a parent bathing an infant.
When we are overcome with grief, we often have absolutely no idea where to go or what to do with our suffering. So much of our motivation departed along with our loved one, that too often, we are simply left to sit and wallow in our misery. However, love cannot be destroyed; the energy that existed before the loss is actually still there. It's boiling under the surface as our grief, and constant threat of implosion drives us deeper into a lonely place of disconnect. How can we cope under this duress?
The answer is simple: Do something. You are going to have to make changes if you want to be happy. You can begin to transform the energy of grief with positive activity.
I've seen clients of mine do this over the years with great success. Many bereaved persons seek talk therapy to heal, but fail to plan activities. Let's compare that to steeping a cup of tea. When the tea comes in contact with boiling water, the flavor is released and a nurturing drink is created. Awesome! But what happens if you leave the tea bag steeping endlessly? You end up with a bitter drink. Not so delicious! If you sit still, simmering in your emotions, bitterness is a likely outcome.
You have to ask yourself, "In this moment, with these circumstances, what matters most to me?" My favorite way to answer this question is to redirect what's on my mind right before I fall asleep.
I send my children and several friends text messages to say good night, thank them for adding so much to my life and tell them I love them.
I imagine what it would be like to walk through Giverny.
I think about how to hold events in six West Coast cities in less than two weeks' time.
What's important to me today is being able to express my love to my family and friends, and create enjoyable opportunities for us to be together. It's important for me to have free time to nurture gardens and appreciate their beauty and growth. It's important for me to bring messages of hope to people all over the world.
All of the important things in my life REQUIRE ACTION.
You have to get involved in your life again to create happiness and healing. Start a foundation in honor of your loved one. Get busy trying out the new hobby you always wanted to learn; art, photography, travel, cooking....whatever gets you excited! Get involved with support groups that offer activities; conferences, social opportunities or self development workshops. Meet a friend out for a cup of coffee instead of staying in alone. Start cleaning and organizing your home to make it into the place you dream it could be!
Everyone is at a different place in the grief process, but remember the analogy of the tea bag. Too much steeping leads to bitterness. Start to focus on what's important to you at the end of the day and commit to taking action to make it a reality. You can't destroy your grief energy, but you can TRANSFORM it.
©Mollie Morning Star 2014 Short excerpts of this article may be shared on the internet provided a live link back to this original source is used. Reproduction in print is prohibited.
HOPE: a gift or creation?
It is an extraordinary gift to receive wisdom that enables us to create changes in our earth-based existence BEFORE we greet our own mortality face-to-face. The greatest instigators for change that I have experienced, at least twice in my life, were the moments of complete breakdown and the surrender to the life-flow...
Recently several people have responded to my weekly blogs with words of gratitude for helping them to manage the losses in their lives that go beyond the death of a loved one and into the disappearance of relationships, careers or self-identity. At the end of each work day, I take time to reflect upon the communication that was brought forward from Spirit, and examine it for value beyond validating the existence of the afterlife. I come into each session listening for something insightful; I want to know how the dead can teach us to live better. They have been there, done that and see everything through the lens of enlightenment, a valuable perspective that we have not yet gained.
It is an extraordinary gift to receive wisdom that enables us to create changes in our earth-based existence BEFORE we greet our own mortality face-to-face. The greatest instigators for change that I have experienced, at least twice in my life, were the moments of complete breakdown and the surrender to the life-flow that followed. None of this was easy or pleasant. In fact, it was completely dreadful as I experienced it. However, sometimes the only way we can move forward is by first losing ourselves completely.
There's little joy in recalling the ugly moments when my loss (a second marriage) became real. It happened many weeks after the announcement that my husband was leaving because he wanted to explore having a life as a single woman. My mind was so completely blown by his unbelievable admission it took it me a good deal of time to process what this exactly meant for me: my plans, my family, my expectations and the future. One beautiful Sunday afternoon, reality crashed upon me as I realized I had absolutely nothing and no one whom I could rely upon, and only a deep sense of responsibility toward my children. I ended up in the small space of a closet under the stairs with several coats draped over my head so no one could hear my wailing. In those hours of sobbing, grieving my future and gasping for breath, I wrote so many endings to my story and every one of those conclusions were entirely tragic. I had no hope. I mean this sincerely....I had "lost it" in every way possible.
"I'm damaged goods beyond any repair. There is no one who could love me with this history."
"I've made such horrible choices, I am helplessly stupid."
"I'm going to be homeless and my children will be taken away from me."
After several hours of this storytelling, I became aware of my children playing upstairs. Faint noises of their laughter, the endlessly squeaky floorboards as they jumped around, their yelling at video games...I heard the sounds of their living, being. The aching and pain inside of me became much more intense as I realized there was no way I could let them down. I had no plan, and no clue where to start but I realized...they have no idea anything is wrong. They believe life is still okay.
Something inside of my heart, some kind of gifted hope, set off the smallest spark in that moment. Believe me, it was tiny. I could hardly perceive it. A few days later, I made a laundry list of my problems, both the practical and the perceived. It was an exhaustive list, but it gave me a starting point. (Granted, it was at the bottom of a trash can with a long climb out, but at least I knew where I was.) I created an affirmation that OPPOSED every negative thought I had about who I was, or what I might be able to achieve. I began the daily practice of mediating on that affirmation, and to this day, I still mediate with it.
I am Happy, Healthy, Whole, Well, Loved and Abundant.
When I created this affirmation, I was very unhappy. I was sick, suffering from migraines and panic attacks. I felt so broken; I couldn't imagine what feeling "whole" was like. Everything made me feel unwell. Loved? I didn't even love or respect myself, let alone have the capacity to receive that from another person. I couldn't see any value in the experiences I had navigated in life; I viewed them as walls that separated me from my desires and needs. And as for abundance, my pantry was as deflated as my self-esteem.
When I created my mantra, I emptied my head completely of my story. I stopped scripting my life. I refused to commit myself to a future tragic ending. I stepped into the unknown and decided that was to be my new "comfort zone" for the rest of forever.
I knew that I would never again live within a mental space of comfort where life, events and tomorrow are predictable, and are a given. THEY ARE A GIFT.
What happened in following years as I allowed my thinking to be re-scripted continues to be miraculous. There is no more "trying" for anything, it shows up in its perfect time. I am completely available to joyfully experience whoever and whatever is going on in the moment without judging it or myself. Every single thing that I affirm is true, and with no limits. There is no ceiling on the love I experience with the people with whom I am blessed to exchange energy. My abundance is overwhelming and joyfully shared. Is my life flawless? Of course not, but I can tell you, those flawed moments are dealt with much more quickly and with a massive dose of self-respect and love.
So, is HOPE a gift, or can you create it?
The spark of hope I was gifted from that "Source" of Soul or Spirit was so small in the moment it was received it could have easily been snuffed out. I chose to gather whatever tinder was nearby and light a fire. I created it and did the work. I am responsible and always will be for my life experience.
My ears have been a resting spot for so many stories that detail the reality of those moments when the loss of a loved one causes you to completely "lose it;" when you, the loss and the moment become "real." A bereaved mother who I am blessed to call a dear friend recalls how she laid crying, gasping and wrenching on the floor in a dark room for days without eating. She heard that whisper of hope, and I can't stress enough...it's bloody hard to hear it's so faint! She is an upwardly-mobile person with a great career, and family who is contributing love to society as a whole. This type of breakdown can happen to anyone.
I've determined that the most stable place to rebuild your life upon is ROCK BOTTOM...it is a firm foundation for healing.
I am a purveyor of hope. I allow my life energy to be used as an instrument for discarnate Souls to reach out to loved ones in need of confirmation and healing. The "gift" here is the path that becomes visible to those in need. The road of hope is now under your feet. At this point, you may choose to walk on it, into the unknown and discover for yourself that the ending to YOUR story is also unwritten and available for you to create with purpose and meaning. You can't be carried down this road, it has to be travelled. And that's the gift.
©Mollie Morning Star 2014 Short excerpts of this article may be shared on the internet provided a live link back to this original source is used. Reproduction in print is prohibited.