Spiritual Diva Spills The Tea

Nothing prepares you for the worst phone call of your life. Or the whirlwind of events that follow it. I wish I could go back in time, to the person I was before that phone call. I'm well aware that my life will never be as comfortable as it was before then. Rapid expansion calls one to evolve, and to do so so quickly that there is no remainder of the old life left. Spiritually speaking, of course. It's a cheat code to evolution. But frankly, I prefer ignorance, it was blissful there ... Two weeks ago I took my boys school shopping. I allowed them to spend entirely too much money on the shoes they wanted this year. It was kind of fun to pretend not to worry about money for an afternoon. We spent the day at the mall near my apartment, browsing and buying. The excitement they expressed the rest of the day made me smile and float about my apartment. It felt good to be ... normal. To buy the things we wanted without hyperventilating. If you grew up poor, you strongly relate to the ...

The fact that I am here is a miracle that is not lost on me. The hard part about that is living in a world that doesn't celebrate much of anything, unless it involves a celebrity doing it. My story seems to have fallen on deaf ears. I wonder, what would make a story like mine matter to those who simply do not care about people like me?  I vacillate between continuing to blog or post my words of wisdom on social media, sometimes temporarily shutting down said accounts for days (months, years) at a time. But time and time again I hear the whimpering of a little girl who never got to speak her truth, begging me to keep allowing her to tell her version of events. It's important to me, and that is enough of a reason to keep writing.  Let's be honest, I am not who the people would have chosen to be the voice to speak out on the things that I do. They would never have offered me the leadership role. One glance might tell you why, but we've slept on the foundation that was my b...

This will be my very last blog post about my last relationship. I think I've shared what I needed to in order to stay mentally sane, when I felt that was necessary. And as hard as it it to believe, that part of my life is over. Now that I have the full freedom to move forward in every single way, why wouldn't I choose closure instead of rehashing the past again and again? Some may think I never should have commented on my relationship publicly, ever, at all. After all, there are two sides to a story, and I probably didn't cop to everything I could have. I just want peace now, so that means closing the door on what was. I'm choosing to do that today by writing one more blog post about that time in my life. I'm a writer, it's how we heal.  I knew there would be a time of additional healing when I finally escaped my situation. I often imagined that I might sleep a lot more than normal, or that old emotional baggage would come bubbling to the surface now that I coul...

Could you find enough mercy in your heart to help someone you love in pain take their own life? If you really think about it, could you come to the conclusion that it was the sole humane offering, one last way to tell someone you love them, to assist them in creating their own death. I mean, really think about it. Your answer might surprise you. When Kurt posed this question to me, being an advocate for the right to die, I took thirty seconds to say, "yes".  I paid a friend to shoot me up with Heroin when I was in my late teens. I told him, "you better get the fucking job done." I was sure I wanted to die. Or at least not be in pain any longer. I was coping with a lot. This same friend, a much older man who lied to me about his age, had spent some time "slumming" with me. I offered him a place to stay out of the goodness of my heart, and he led me into a hardcore love affair with Heroin. I don't remember much about my time as an addict. If you asked me...

When I was seventeen I lost my memory. Not all of it, but chunks of it. This was a result of trauma induced by a toxic environment amongst my then peers. Bullying is something that continues well into today's day and age. Little has changed. Bullies will always exist. Sometimes they grow up and pretend that they have evolved over time, but it's impossible to truly change if you choose to ignore the crying child within.  I met a boy, slighter older than me one night, as my friends and I dragged State Street. That's what bored kids do at night in Utah, when they don't drink and they can't get into clubs. It used to be the way we met people outside of the halls of high school. This boy and I hit it off, and we started dating immediately. I can't recall timelines very well, but I think this relationship lasted a year. On and off. We came from different worlds, he and I. He was raised LDS (Mormon), and I was from the streets, Hood. I think this is one of the reasons ...

On June 15th of this year, Chad Doerman, lined up his three young boys, then shot them execution style. There were no survivors.  As a mother to three boys myself, this tragedy struck way too close to home for me. I have been angry, devastated, baffled, and lost in the same question we all have, "why?" The three young boys even physically resemble my own children when they were small. Three small blonde haired, blued eyes boys with bright smiles, who did EVERYTHING together. They were never alone, because they always stuck close to each other. Friends were welcome, but not a necessity. It's that way when you have brothers.  I pulled a little tarot on the boys earlier tonight, asking the most prominent questions on my mind. I can't sleep not understanding how anyone could harm their own children in this manner. There's a sick feeling in my stomach, and honestly, I kind of hate the world today. This is a tragedy, and only a tragedy. There is no silver lining. Nothin...

My first interaction with Kaylee happened a few weeks ago. I chose not to write about it, because the case hadn't been solved yet. I felt that it was far more respectful of me to hang back and let the authorities reveal their findings first. This case was so damaging to so many innocent lives, and I in no way wanted to add to that pain. Even if the people involved never see my writing. I also felt that what I saw was too graphic, and in no real way beneficial to anyone to read.  Kaylee has persistently pleaded with me to write her final goodbye. That sounds so surreal, even to me. My life isn't always boring and consistent, after all. I meant no disrespect to Kaylee by denying her her wish for so long, but I truly needed her to understand that there are certain things I simply will never feel comfortable disclosing. It's like the coroner insisting that the family really doesn't want to see the body of their mangled loved one, because the horror is one that would be life...

When I connected to Jeffrey's spirit, I didn't feel like I got enough information. It was a bit like watching a bad portrayal of his life on some shitty lifetime channel. It was unsatisfying. I wanted to understand him on a soul level. I wanted to know what had "gone wrong". I took a deep dive into his life using tarot and my intuition. And what I found when I did, were the answers nobody else could.  My initial reaction to Jeffrey's energy was confusion, hostility, and a lack of trust. In life Jeffrey was an incredibly apathetic character. He was known for being awkward and bizarre, probably never spending a day truly comfortable in his own body. I mean, so many of us can relate to that, and yet we never did the unimaginable. I wanted to know where and when this child had been broken, and how he became one of the most hated people of all time.  Jeffrey, in death, didn't give many answers as to why he was the way he was. As in life, he claimed that's just ...

I was going to write about my afterlife communications with a notorious serial killer. I thought maybe I could follow in the steps of Bailey Sarien, who is a true crime enthusiast, but from the perspective of being a psychic medium. However, that will have to wait, because I just received some very bad news. I'm literally still reeling. I found out about half an hour ago that a cousin of mine has passed away. I don't have the heart (no pun intended) to write about a man who violently took the lives of others right now. That post is for another day.  My cousin, Misty, is the mother of a boy my youngest sons age, eleven. She passed away five days after Christmas. I literally just liked all of the colorful and splashy photos she posted (and reposted from prior years) of her holidays. Families in matching pajama's. A young cocoa skinned boy growing from toddler to little gentleman. She raised such a sweet little boy, and she should be proud of that. I actually reached out to Mi...

Kailey is whining at my feet right now. I think she's about three. She's a little girl wearing a party dress in a color like pale pink? She seems to want me to pick her up, as if she's associating me with being her mother. I don't know who Kailey is. She may be too young, even for a ghost child, to tell me why she thinks I'm her mommy. When I hear from small children I immediately wonder if she's one of Ricky Mena's (he plays Spiderman for children with Cancer), but I don't recall him writing about anyone named Kailey. She's calling me "mama" now, pulling at the bottom of her little dress. On second thought, I don't think she's over the age of two. Anyone know a Kailey? It's been a while since I last wrote. I've been having an internal argument about whether or not to write only "ghost stories", or to write about my life as a mother, employee, and elderly woman too. I mean, at thirty eight, I have stories to tell, ...

Dylan Klebold was the original teenage school shooter at Columbine Highschool. This shooting (and attempted bombing) was carried out by he and a friend, Eric Harris, on April 20th, 1999. 13 innocent people were killed, including one teacher. I was stunned when Dylan came through. I hadn't particularly been focusing on anything that could even be remotely associated with him. Like, I wasn't reading a ton about school shootings, or obsessing over the lack of proper gun laws, etc. For him to come through was like getting a visit from someone you have long forgotten about. Oh, but how could we forget about Dylan? His actions started the evolution of school shootings, spiraling it into what it is today, a somewhat regular thing. Dylan, one could say, is the inventor of school shootings. The mastermind behind them. The go to guy for inspiration on how to carry out a school shooting.  I was hesitant to take Dylan's story. I have thought about what I would do before, if a murderer,...

Father's be good to your daughter's. Daughter's will love like you do ... every time I hear John Mayer sing that particular line, I can't help but wonder "who thinks of me when they hear this song?" I'm facing some hard truths currently, as I'm forced to realize, "honey, you were no picnic yourself." I can admit that to myself, but it still sucks taking the blame for the way the main man in my life raised me (god rest your soul). The truth is, I was a fucking nightmare to be with in my younger years. There were a couple of brave men who's demons were probably as dark as mine were, who tried to love me whilst learning to love themselves. And it was every bit as messy as it sounds! As I face spiritual teachers who really aren't healed, though they have built an entire life on claiming that they have paved the way for a new wave of healing in humanity, I realize, I don't want to be like that. I want to admit my human flaws, to myself...

From the age of about nine I have been smitten with Ray Liotta's face. It's no secret that he was the sort of good looking that almost seems like it can't possibly be human. Human is flawed, and Ray had no flaws, according to me. Factor in that tough guy exterior with those warm blue eyes, and it was enough to keep my attention for a lifetime. I'm a middle aged woman now, and I can safely say that Ray Liotta has been the love of my life. He was my literal dream man ... What I now understand about Ray is that he shined from the inside out. It's the reason why he seemed like such a perfect man. Ray wasn't prone to Depression, or deep sadness that overtook his  persona. He said it himself, in his after life communications with me. "I wasn't really a sad person, ya know? I guess I didn't really understand sadness the way some people do. My soul was beaten down at times, but I never lost that hope. And I like to think that I encouraged other people to ke...

To be honest, this is the same headspace I was in when I started my spiritual journey in 2012. It felt like the rug had been ripped from beneath my feet, and I was completely lost in the transitions that were happening in my life. I didn't understand why they were occurring, and I didn't trust them. It's hard to trust The Universe when you feel as if it NEVER gives you what you asked for, and those life lessons just keep rolling on in. Tougher than ever.  Sometimes I feel as I'm adrift in an ocean, clinging to a small piece of drift board, The night stars twinkle above me, beautiful and unfazed by the nightmare scenario billions of miles below them. It is confusing. It is utterly confusing to even try to understand a journey like mine. I asked myself tonight, "what would my life have been like had I never met certain people?" I can only imagine what my fiery, vivacious, beautiful 17 year old self would have done with her time and energy, had she not been chasi...