The previous post here is spam. My apologies. After an hour of updating my passwords and replying friends with more apologies, hey…I might as well start posting again.
Lots have happened since Tinkerbell and the sore tooth appeared in my life. I hesitate on posting anything further about the tooth, because I’m not sure that it has totally healed, despite the dentist who tested it said it was.
In the past 6 months, tooth-wise, I’ve learned that maintenance is key. #30 cooperates until I grind again. I grind again because of stress (again). One has to be mindful of the equipment we have. One moment it works, another it can hurt, again.
I have learned Reiki, which I use to release angst and negativity. That helps with the grinding.
I now am Reiki Master Teacher. I practice on family and friends and see that it’s a magical technique to help people relax and get some healing. I can see having a practice to work with people in anxiety or pain.
In the past 6 months, I’ve housed my father for 4 weeks to see if he can live near me. Sadly, the answer is no, for health reasons. But we exchange stories of our childhoods, strange as that sounds, and get some understanding of who we are and why, and where we want to go in life. I will reflect for a long time on this stint with the one who caused major anguish in my childhood. It’s another memoir in the making.
In the past 6 months, because of another perception, of the impossibility of building the climax of my story on mind-body healing (i.e. which demons do I slay first? The mind one or the body one? How do I show their connection?), I procrastinate into my lifelong love of astrology. I am fascinated by how the formation in the cosmos influences or represents our motives and behaviors.
Then I discover Deborah King, the author of Truth Heals and Be Your Own Shaman. A master teacher of energy healing. Probably a next step to advanced my interest in helping people.
In the past 6 months, I realized that writing the memoir is a part of my work, not all of it. I am an extrovert who enjoy being with others. I was a counselor, and will be again. The question is, in what format?
I suppose there are some weird benefits when I don’t finish my writing as planned. Like I have some closure with my father. And uncovering tools to understand and serve humanity.
Like, the good thing about getting spammed: it gets me back to blogging.