Strengthen your spidey senses
An intention that commonly comes up with my clients is a desire to awaken or strengthen their intuition, so in this installment of Musings from the Journey, I thought I would share some of my tips.
Would ya know that you can approach developing your intuition scientifically? I mean, you don't have to chart or record your experience judiciously (unless you want to), but, holding the posture of a neutral observer will help you immensely. The key to tuning in to our intuition is to listen and notice.
Gather data over a period of time. Pay attention to the subtle cues you pick up on in your body and environment. In our culture, it is common to write off certain types of input we receive because we are "making it up" or "imagining things." This perspective squashes intuition like a bug, before we can even see that it may be a beautiful, rare butterfly. Now, disclaimer, not everything you experience will be information you want to take as guidance, but we want to at least open the door so you are receiving some info.
Some examples of "data" to make a mental note of: if you see something out of the corner of your eye, you feel a twinge in your belly when around someone you aren't fond of, your body feels drawn to move in a certain direction, you hear a buzzing in your ear when thinking of something in particular, your dreams, etc. There are all sorts of ways that we can perceive energy. What I invite you do to when you notice something to is to say to yourself, "Oh, isn't that interesting? I'm experiencing ______." Then you don't have to make theories or projections of what it may or may not mean. You are just making note of the data.
Flex your intuitive muscles in small ways. As part of the data gathering process, give yourself low-stakes decisions to make, see what kind of information you get, then make a judgement call. Then, see how that plays out in time. For example, when driving or biking home from an errand, ask yourself which direction to turn as you approach an intersection. Do you hear the word "left," feel a pull to go in a certain direction, see a line of energy guiding you, feel a sensation in your chest, etc.? Based on what you notice you make a choice about which direction to turn. As you continue on, maybe everything goes smoothly. Maybe you have to stop and wait for a train, or there's an accident. Maybe you pass your best friend, and pull over for a chat. Whether it goes well, neutral, or not the best, this is all giving you additionally insight into how you receive information and what it might be telling you.
Continue to intend to have awareness. Even if you aren't noticing seemingly anything at first, keep your intention open to receiving information. It is called subtle energy because indeed it is subtle. The Universe speaks to us in whispers, unless we are being really thick... then sometimes we can get hit over the head with it. I will say there have been times I've had a negative thought then I bonk my head on something... that's a cue!
There are some practices that will help you flex your subtle perception muscles: meditation, yoga, Reiki, being in nature. Practices that help you slow your thinking mind, and tune into your body are very helpful. As well as practices that get you in touch with your spiritual, energetic, and animal nature. Also, if there is an activity that you enjoy that you find you get "in the zone" with this is great! Notice how you receive information when in that kind of a space.
Over time, patterns will reveal themselves. I was not always in tune with my intuition, and when I set out to develop it, I really didn't know what to put stock in for a long time. After maybe a year or so, the meaning of one of my indicators became very clear. I had enough real-life experience and feedback by that time that helped me know that when I feel strong chills through my head, back and body that either: there is something that is being said that has truth and warrants special attention, and/or there are spirits that are letting me know that they are present.
Developing your intuition is an ongoing process. While there will be cues that become more clear in time what they are indicating, you probably won't get to a time when you've figured it all out. There is so much subtlety and nuance that it is worth coming to your intuition from a place of discernment, gratitude, and humility. Hold the information you get lightly until (and even if) the patterns become clear. There are factors can can complicate the process, like our ego! But, what I've found is that this continuous inquiry and relationship can really enrich our lives, and help us live more and more in alignment with who we really are.
I would also be remiss not to mention that the way each person receives intuitive information and what it may mean is individual. Just because chills means I'm onto truth or spirits for me, doesn't necessarily mean it is the same for you. This is all about getting to know your body with it's (extra)senses for the unique instrument that it is. The more time you spend tuning in and "practicing" the better trained your ear will be to when things are resonant, or out of tune.
So, anyhoo, that's what I'll leave you with for today. Do you have reliable intuitive signals, or experiences you'd like to share? Perhaps, you have questions that I can address in another article. Leave them in our comments.
Listen to your inklings and you just may save a life.
Last Wednesday was one of those rainy days where it gently, and consistently pours throughout the day. I've always been fond of the rain. There is something about it that invites reflection and comfort for me.
After receiving a liberating and joyful Alexander Technique lesson with my friend and colleague Xochi John, I had a short window of time before my next client. There was a break in the rain, and something was subtly beckoning me outside for a stroll. I debated the amble as I wouldn't have enough time to make it to the woody savanna that I like to visit. It would have to be a short jaunt around the creek behind our office, then right back. Maybe my time would be better spent integrating the lesson with a brief rest on the couch, I contemplated. I let my hesitations go, put on my coat, and ventured to the creek.
It felt soothing to get outside, and take in the happenings of the creatures out and about. As I passed under a bridge, I saw a family of ducks skimming along. The mother leading the way with the fuzzy little ducklings scuttling behind in a row, two by two, rotating who was in the front. I stopped to admire them for a bit, and counted nine little ducklings. Gosh, they were adorable. They found a patch of vegetation, scattered to their posts, and began to feed. I carried on.
I reached the turn around point for the path, and saw a muskrat swimming along. The furry one eventually disappeared from sight as it neared the bushy plants draping over the edge of the waterway. I relished in gratitude to work so close to this haven for wildlife, and began my return trip on the other side of the creek.
After passing under the bridge, I eventually came upon the family of ducklings again. They hurriedly darted among the watery weeds feeding further along the shore. I checked my watch; I still had enough time before my client would arrive, so I decided to wait and bit longer and watch them. They didn't seem to notice me, though I was only about 15 feet away on the edge of the bike path. These poofy little beings were so eager to eat, it's as if I existed in a completely different dimension outside of their reality. Their ease allowed me to marvel in how adorable they all were, without fear of startling them.
Then, all of a sudden, I realize something is awry. The mother frantically darts back and forth squawking. She is searching for something. The little ducklings move to the side. One, two, three...eight. There are only eight! Where is the ninth?! I hear a little, "peep, peep, peep," but can't see the other duckling anywhere.
The mother seems to have found her lost little one. She plunges her head into the water trying to pull her beloved up with her beak. I can see the small orange beak break the surface for a moment, before it plunges back underwater. Again, the mother attempts. And, again, to the same effect. Frantic desperation fills the air. The mother, unable to help her little one, quickly shepherds the other ducklings away to the other side of the creek, shielding them from a similar fate.
I cannot see the little duckling from where I am standing. I move to the edge of the creek where I saw the mother's urgent attempts. There, shrouded within the weeds, I spot the little duckling's head pointed outward, completely underwater, yet only a mere couple inches from the surface.
I crouch down, and lean in to gently scoop up the little one, but it is dreadfully tangled. I am able to lift it enough so it's head is out of the water, but if I let go, it will sink again. I must work at freeing it. As I carefully pull the plant matter from its right wing, the mother realizes I am holding her baby. She flies from the other shoreline straight toward me, her alarm shrieks ringing in the air. She lands in the middle of the stream, and becomes quiet, though vigilant.
By now, I realize there is something from below weighing the duckling down. I reach deeper, and feel a woody stalk that was laying horizontally, wedged over the little duckling's foot. As I raise the stalk from the depths, the duckling now has enough wiggle room to free itself. It darts out of the mess of weeds in my hands, runs along the shoreline, then zooms through the water reuniting with its mother. Salvation! They rejoin the eight siblings, and go back to feeding in a more sheltered spot of the creek.
I burst into tears, overwhelmed with emotion. Waves of feelings and sensations moving through me, which I am unsure if words exist to describe. All I know is that this experience was as much of a gift to me as that little duckling, and its mother. After letting the reality of what's just unfolded settle a bit, I head back into the clinic to prepare for my next client.
A couple hours later, I have another short break, and decide to go out and see if I could check on this duck family I now feel inexplicably close with. At the far end of the creek, near Lake Monona, I spot them. Again, feeding along the rocky shore. All nine ducklings and mother. They all seem to be moving about just like normal, happy ducklings. My heart smiles. They are all okay. We are all okay.
As the ripples of this experience have had sometime to soak into my consciousness, I feel the layers of meaning and lessons so intertwined, gently peaking their heads up. The possibilities that arise when we listen to the inklings we have. How something larger than ourselves sometimes uses us to be "guardian angels" for others, guiding us to be in the right place at the right time. The life-saving power of being present, aware, and seeing what is; had I just continued walking, or not taken a closer look, I would not have noticed that little duckling trapt underwater. That having an outside perspective, and the right tools for the job is essential; no matter how much that mother tried to save her beloved, she didn't have what was necessary to untangle the little one. When we move from a place of connectedness, love, and willingness, knowing that we are a part of the whole—not a separate, outside observer—miracles can happen. Yes, sometimes it may come down to "little old me" or you to act, there may not be anyone else there to swoop in. So many universal lessons to contemplate.
Finally, on a personal note, I know this experience is an incredible gift, and sign. I have been diving deeply in recent months, healing core layers of wounding of my inner child. A part of me that was so tangled in thoughts of illusion and darkness, that attempting suicide seemed the only way to be seen in my pain. Fortunately, I too, had guardian angels. My dear childhood friend Mikaela's love, and witnessing pulled me out of the depths at that time, and I have not been caught in that seemingly inescapable grasp since. But there were remnants of that pain that still needed healing. Over the last decade, I have nurtured trust with this ten-year-old me, and offered her healing with the gift of Reiki, and other support I have uncovered on this journey. In the process, those wounds have dissolved, bit by bit. Now that I am an adult, I have the right tools, I know I have friends "in the light" I can call upon, and, damn it, young Sarah, I see you, just like I saw that little duckling, and I will never leave you tangled in darkness again. I love you. This experience was a sign to me of the progress I've made, and, perhaps most moving for me, a completion of the cycle; gratitude for my life that was saved, and the gift to return the favor, and free another from a similar fate.
Dear friends, thank you for reading my story. I hope it offers some medicine for you, which will no doubt be unique to your own life. If you feel inspired, I would love to hear what this evokes within you. Feel free to comment below.
No matter where this finds you today, may you know there are "angels" around every corner, and if you need someone to walk with you, all you have to do is ask.
With so much love for you,
P.S. Okay, Brené Brown... How's that for daring greatly? I'll admit, I was tentative about sharing my personal note, but I hope that in the sharing it has been helpful for some.
P.P.S. I will be away from the clinic June 22–30, 2019 to rest and recharge. Please reach out to me before if you need support, otherwise I will be getting back to you when I return at the beginning of July.
The conundrum that vexes many heart-centered people
I was speaking with a client recently, and through our conversation it was clear that she had been aware of things that others around her didn't seem to notice. She could tell when something was up with her loved ones even when they tried to hide it, and she seemed to have a sense of what these people needed. She could see them, or really, she could feel them. She was well aware of the pain around her, and also of the beauty and love that others sometimes could not see. It became clear: she has always been an empath.
"Now that I know I'm an empath, does this mean that it is my job to save people if I know they are suffering?" she wondered.
No, it does not. We do not have to whoosh in and rescue loved ones and strangers, because of this intuitive awareness we feel in our bodies. We also do not have to completely block ourselves off from the world, and disassociate to protect ourselves. There is a middle way. A path that we can traverse where we remain connected in our hearts and conscious of what is unfolding around us, but we remained grounded in what is our true responsibility: ourselves. We remember that also applies to everyone else. It isn't always easy to practice this when have been living the majority of our lives enmeshed or detached. But with a fair dose of self-compassion, and patience, we can connect with the strength and kindness we need to navigate life fully present. We will be exploring this life-long practice, and supportive wisdom to soak in during the Empowered Empath series which begins a week from today.
If you are curious, you can learn more here.
Feel the pull to step in with us? Three spots remain available as of today. Book & pay online, email, or call 608-335-1934.
No matter whether you find yourself with empathic abilities or not, I invite you to notice if you have any tendencies to take responsibility for other people's problems, or to distance yourself from discomfort. Explore for yourself ways that you can maintain autonomy for your experience, and surrender any burdens outside of that. I'd love to hear what you notice. Share your comments below, or send me an email.
Hope you are well,
A PSA from your friendly neighborhood Reiki Practitioner.
Happy Friday Friends!
Chances are, since you have found your way to Embrace Your Essence, that growing as a human being is of at least some importance to you. Sometimes, learning a new way of being and operating in the world is a key part of our healing. For you, what is it you may be working on within yourself? Whether your intention is to pause instead of reacting out of old patterns, cultivate self-love, develop awareness of your body–mind connection or intuition, or even to choose nourishing foods over those that provide momentary satisfaction, I would like to remind you today that it is a practice.
The process of integrating these new ways of being can sometimes look uneven, and it is easy to get discouraged if we are not doing as well as we would like. Some days we flourish, and are like gurus, ready to council others how to practice what we have learned. Other days, we completely forget our intention and fall into old patterns, only to realize we missed the boat a few days later. Some days, despite our best intentions we still can't execute what we were hoping for. Other days are marked small successes. The progression can look a little messy.
No matter what your practice is feeling like for you today, remember that it is normal. Shifting our consciousness takes time. Celebrate if you are making strides, and offer patience and kindness to yourself if it is feeling like a struggle. Just like in weight training, it takes time and consistency to build the muscles of compassion, patience, awareness, and love. Even if you fall, the more you return to your practice, eventually the more ease you will find there.
What is your practice, and how has it felt for you over time? Share on in the comments or send me an email. Looking forward to hearing from you.
From a fellow traveler,
Reiki Master Teacher and Owner of Embrace Your Essence