Today, I have been thinking about all those we have loved that have gone beyond the veil. I was thinking about how many tears we have cried in the moments of their passing, in the moments of knowing grief in this way; the way of the leaf falling from the tree, the way of the river silently rushing down the mountain, the way of a baby being born, the blood and breath of life pouring into the air.  

The way of my own father's ashes blowing into the wind that day we let the last pieces of him go on the mountain. 

It is real. We are real. The pain of this life, it is real.
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The pain we now feel. The way of the world filled to the brim with too much, too much of the unreal. I stop to cry and hold my breath. We have lived in anxiety long before the virus and before quarantine. Now we have stopped to feel, something has hit to make us question that which is real. 

My many lessons from growing up in the wilderness taught me to seek what is real. Winters were harsh with coldness and white, summers were freedom and heat, fall was death and the lesson of transition, spring was the lesson of a new beginning. I now feel these lessons wrapped around me, but in a new way, the death and transition of the world is happening before our eyes. In the not knowing lies both the fear and the gift, the anxiety and the possibility. 

My heart and mind waver back and forth between all of this. 

Like you I'm searching for the truth.

 I have jolted awake many mornings by the question of how my business of helping people write their stories is going to continue. What language do I now use to be real and to help others understand that integrating their story and having a voice is more than important? It is essential. 

This morning I am stopped and brought to stillness by a photograph of my mother and father. Stilted and brought to tears, over and over the flood of grief becomes me, and then, silence, a moment of pure peace. A message rings from beyond the veil, a message from my father, "I taught you to seek the truth of that which is real, daughter, and in doing so you will find the way through." 

Readers from my book, The Soulful Child: Twelve Years In The Wilderness, discover right along with me  that my parents, Jerry and Reva,  were far from perfect. Imperfect in so many ways they sought out a life to bring themselves-their children and all of us- back to the earth, to a simpler way of living, to faith and to nature; the evolution of the human spirit transpires by experiencing all that is real. Live close to the heart, let intuition be your guide, live simply enough that you can always hear your inner voice. 

Please do not judge others during this time, they are seeking their truth. If you don't agree with something they post, have integrity in your communication, you don't have to shame and blame when you don't agree. I believe we are dealing with many sides here, a virus, yes, political agendas, our freedom, both in freedom of speech, as well as our physical/medical and emotional freedom. It is a time more than ever to know yourself, to find your truth and to live from within when navigating this wild unprecedented season of our lives. 

For all the times I disagreed with my parents,

I am finding a deeper and wider understanding of the journey we have traveled together-and I'm finding the journey is not over, even when some of us have gone beyond the veil.

I love you.

I send you this message in the hopes that it opens your heart and helps you to seek your own truth

For more connection to the larger story go to https://www.amazon.com/Soulful-Child-Twelve-Years-Wilderness/dp/0997547081/


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