Child is pushing on every single button I have. Complaining, talking back, whining, “Why did she get that and I didn’t,” and “It’s not fair,” and pre-hormonal outbreaks of “I hate you!” slamming doors and dramatic crying fits. And I’m out of breath. Literally. I. Cannot.Breathe. I simple cannot.
My heart it pounding into my throat as I debate which would bring me more immediate joy- violently attacking child or eating fifteen snickers bars. Both I consider both an inch more than slightly irrational, though in my current state of mind it’s not blazingly clear to me which would be worse. It should be. My mind knows. So does my heart. But these buttons, these neurons of painful unresolved issues firing like hot flashed dog-in-heat, they don’t speak the language I’ve trained myself to adhere to. They don’t get anicca, and light and energy healing. They don’t speak that tongue.
I’d like to share with you a very personal article from about 6+ years ago. I wrote it to share, and never did. And today, randomly found it, in all lower-case letters, on the parenting blog I used to run called The Gift of Parenting. So, enjoy and please comment, for I believe this article touches upon our beautiful neurotic, illogical selves in the rawest form. Enjoy!
Energy Healing opened a world of deep soul-cleaning and trauma-clearing that I had never even imagined was possible. In all of my years of learning this and Humanology, I kept arguing with myself, searching for the scientifically-backed logical explanations for the seemingly impossible quantum ability to reach results and know things that were not feasible. I also spent years trying to figure out who were the paid conspirators in my study classes paid to make the rest of us fools ‘fall for it’.
I never found out who the con-artists were, because, damn it, there were none. I could no longer argue with miraculous story, unexplained healing, and illogical relief case after case after case. And when I reached with clients and friends oddly, outrageously successful results, I stopped arguing with that which was and accepted that my academically-trained, thinking brain could not contain the magic I was honored enough to touch.
I kept my ‘witchery powers’ silent for years out of fear that I’d be labeled ‘weird’ and ‘unprofessional’. No more. And so, I present to you Energy Healing 101- What It Is and How I Can Use It (Part One) so that you can begin to taste it’s magic. Have you own story, experienced unexplainable energy healing magic? Do tell. Anything else you want to know, tell me and I’ll answer.
If you enjoyed this, share it with friends. Should you want more online inspiration, subscribe to the rss of this blog, or join me on Facebook at Light Inspiration for the Soul and my personal profile at Gabi Klaf. Would you like some private one-on-one coaching/therapy, know that I would be thrilled to help add light to your life. You may contact me directly at firstname.lastname@example.org It is my honor to meet you here friends. May the energy we produce together, create more music and silence, simultaneously, in our souls.
It tickled and danced around us. Not like the day rain. She was hell. She was too strong, too stingy, and overbearing. She was confused, stuck, searching and not finding. And I saw all these other people watching the day rain too. The doorway guy, the booth one, and that old man on the stool. Did they see what I did? Were they also hoping the rain would wash away something it did not? Or maybe it’s just a reflection of who I was with my face mashed against that faded wooden frame, pushing forward to feel her spray. Why am I always seeking that, that just-out-of-reach thing, that which will make me deeply happy and calm?
What am I lacking right here and now? I’m traveling the world, have no health, money, or relationship problems (besides the one I create in my mind for my own dramatic enjoyment). I do what I want, when I want. I’ve three unbelievable kids and the greatest gift in this Universe husband, and still, I gaze at the rain and feel a desperate emptiness gnawing in a silent whisper of desire.
My family have become garlic freaks and we could hardly imagine a day without garlic in our lives. We use it to keep us safe from a billion potential things we could get on the road, and love it when no one will come close to us for we’ve consumed too much of it. Because of my commitment to engage you in a constant discussion of healthy weight loss and healthy living, I wanted to talk to you about our beloved garlic. I hope this article, the first in my series called Healthy Diet Tips, adds much knowledge and inspiration regarding why you should definitely incorporate more and more garlic, preferably raw, into your family’s daily diet.
Where would we be without the wonderful garlic clove? Nothing smells better in the kitchen than a few cloves of garlic simmering in some olive oil, waiting to turn a common dish into an exquisite, savory meal. The only smell that comes close to the wonderful scent of sauteed garlic is sauteed onion.
Little known fact: My entire life I never wore shorts or skirts cuz my legs were perpetually covered with scabs and sores from me scratching my legs. Emotional stress, we’ll say. And then, I felt too fat. I didn’t wear a bathing suit for years, and now, 28 pounds later, I love my legs to death. This is a new love affair for me so I photograph it here and there.
I’m starting to share my Healthy Weight Loss ideas and tips, struggles and inspirations, because I want that interaction, discussion, and community in my life. I’m not selling anything or promising anything. I’m not. I actually don’t promise anything to anyone, not even to myself. I say in all of my rawest honesty, “I will give it my very best” or “This is important to me so I’ve decided to commit my efforts and determination on this,” but no promises, cuz that would be, well, a lie.
I don’t know if my marriage will last until death do us part. I adore the guy, and except when he’s a major jerk or I’m an impossible bitch, or we’re both both of those things simultaneously, married life is rather lovely. I don’t know if I will always be there for my kids. Well, in all honestly, I know I won’t be, for three reasons:
“She’s [gabiklaf.com] been down for almost two months, which has taught me a lot about letting go of my baby, what defines me, and my ego; and now, I sit and look at her again and wonder how to touch her again. Like the first time again, I want it to be so romantic, just perfect.”
- an email to a new online friend
And so, here I go….
There’s a homeless guy at the end of the street who directs the traffic. He stands there, very intense and passionate, doing his job. Florescent pink plastic whistle in mouth, wad up stack of paper in right hand, arms flapping all over the place. No one pays him to do it. I don’t think anyone pays attention to him either.
I do. I love the homeless man. Yesterday, when he tried to help me cross the street, I smiled and looked the other way. He made me uncomfortable. Tomorrow, I’m going to cross the street a few times just so that he can direct me safely to the other side. Just to thank him. Just to make him feel important. That’s what I told my kids when they asked me, “Why does he do it if no one pays him?”
Today my eldest Dahnya and I were looking at picture of this huge, amazing ice scripture. I think it was an iceberg actually that this team of sculptures were working off of. It was the face of a woman, smiling, wind blowing her hair. Truly phenomenal piece of art. Size of a mountain. The sculptures looks like toy play figures around her.
My son Orazi walks in and looks over our shoulder. He stares at the picture for a minute and, as he turns away, he says aloud, ‘I wonder how you could destroy it?”
You know those moments in life when you feel a part of something amazing, like a summer camp team or volunteer unit facing some challenge together? You know that feeling when each person gave his best, touched his most painful, and though you each had to fight your own gremlins, your souls together, silently, were cheering each other on. Yeah, so that is the 4am well washing experience, there in the meditation center in the countryside in Battambang, Cambodia, with my closest 100 Khmer sisters. So it was…. well laundry.