Root, Down, Deep, Essence

I feel alive in ways I can’t remember ever feeling. There’s an awakening – one I’ve been preparing for, for almost a decade. It’s been a long decade of waiting, of honing my skills and craft, of patiently listening for that something that I felt, but couldn’t name.

Finally, I feel the pulsing of that something growing strong. It’s a global awakening to the feminine. No, it’s beyond that. The awakenings have been happening for years. What’s different? We’ve rooted, deepened and touched our essence. We’ve gone down to where we’ve been hidden and now, at last, we are remembering who we are and we’re returning home – to ourselves.

How do I know? The Women’s March on Washington; the “Me Too” phenomenon that’s spreading like fire igniting women to speak their truth and waking us all to our part in allowing the diminishing of the feminine; the number of first time elected women to state and national offices; the movie “Moana”; astrological movements; and, most importantly, my own knowing that it’s time and the world is ready for me.

We’re beyond awakening now. Our eyes are open, we’ve stretched and welcomed the day. Now, we’re about action. REdwoods1

On this Thanksgiving week, I’d like to take a moment to thanks all the mothers and grandmothers who’ve cleared a path for us: the Suffragettes, Rosa Parks, Hillary Clinton, Kris Steinnes, Susan B. Anthony, Eleanor Roosevelt, Gloria Steinem, Rosie the Riveter, Coretta Scott King, Maya Angelou, Malala Yousafzai, Oprah Winfrey, the 13 Grandmothers, … – and the ancient ones who kept the knowledge alive through stories and traditions. We are your daughters and we are remembering to return, to claim our power and knowing. We have access to so much because of your sacrifices, your fierce commitment and determination, your love.

Now, like trees in a forest, our roots reach down, deep, to our essence – touching the roots of others, who like us are growing tall and strong. It’s time to tell the stories, to celebrate our shared mysteries and to return the heart to the feminine – to honor her, to court her, to celebrate her treasures.

I am a storyteller – full of stories and wisdom teachings – hungry to ignite the feminine spirit in a fierce, loving, compassionate and juicy journey to ourselves. Join me Tuesdays at 2 PM (PST) on Facebook Live starting November 28th. I’ll also be doing some Youtube videos and will let you know. or you can subscribe to my email list for releases.Rachael Fairbanks

Till then, I offer you a song that a beautiful young friend has written. Rachael Fairbanks, leads us to this journey of the heart with some beautiful songs on her latest album. One of my favorites is “Tree Song”. Close your eyes and listen to the call of your heart as her song plays.


Head shot (2)I have been going by a shortened version of my middle name. It celebration of the fullness of returning to our whole selves, I reclaim my full name – Coleen Rhalena Renee. Blessings to each of you. I offer my open-hearted gratitude for all you do in the world.



When a Parent Dies

My father passed a year ago. I thought I was ready because he had been ill for several years. Perhaps I was prepared for him leaving this planet, but I was not prepared for my own internal shifts. Dad was no longer there to comfort or to criticize me. I became aware of how often I did – or didn’t – do something because of his expected reaction. Suddenly, I felt both free and incredibly vulnerable – I can do anything and there is no net beneath me.

Of course that’s not true. I can do anything I’m meant to do, anything I truly desire. And yes, that first primal net is gone. Yet, a year later, I see that my clipped wings have grown back to fullness and not only do I have other nets, I also have wings that significantly negate the need for them. It’s stunning, actually – the kind of stunning that stops you in your tracks until you can truly process what’s before you, both the beauty and the grief.


Photo by Jakob Owens on Unsplash

Now the butterfly is emerging, her vulnerable wings will soon dry. Where will she fly?

Despite the fact that we’re in the dark and cold time of the year, I feel my sap wanting to rise as I sense the possibility of new life within me. I may be out of sync with the sun, but I’m right in line with the moon. My grief has waned and I’m resting. As the dark moon approaches, I go within – evaluating and discerning what dreams wish to take flight.

In the last year, I have unearthed stories that have kept me from powerfully taking my place in the world. Even writing “powerfully taking my place” scares me as much as it excites me. I’ve broken through the cocoon of safety and its illusions – just in time.

I admired my dad’s passing. He did it incredibly well. He brought the family together for my mom’s 80th birthday a few months before he died. We hadn’t seen each other in almost 30 years. At my mom’s three day birthday event, my siblings and I reconnected, and Dad spoke his love and gratitude for all of us. Because of that time together, we were able to be there in his last days to support and comfort each other while we made the decisions that needed to be made. He waited to go until my mother was ready – and then he left us. For me, personally, his passing was beautifully timed with this last year’s growth. I am emerging full winged just as the world shifts enough for me to step into my place.

I’ve been waiting for almost ten years, now. I’ve been sharpening my skills in preparation for something that I couldn’t quite define. In some ways, I’ve felt all dressed up but nowhere to go. My life didn’t stand still, exactly. I just had this sense that I had to prepare. The unearthing of stories that kept me small and seeing the illusions of safety were my last tasks. Thanks Dad for leaving me so I could do them.

A part of me wants to step on a platform and shout to the world all that I now know. But the wiser part tells me not to push the river – rest with the moon, let my wings dry and my new dreams land. No need to stumble onto that platform. I’ll wait and then gracefully step up. It’s within reach now and I feel certain it will not vanish.

I’m just remembering when I was little that my dad told me if you didn’t step off the escalator at just the right time, you’d be taken under. I imagined the dusty, dark horror of going under and having to wait to breathe again. For years, I experienced anxiety getting off escalators. I’d stand poised to jump way too early and only breathe again when I safely landed on the next floor. Decades later, I can get off an escalator with relative ease. But the little girl, who wants to be safe, doesn’t breathe easily until both feet are on the floor. This time, I’ll hold her hand and tell her about all the wonders of what’s on that floor. She doesn’t need to even think about what’s under that escalator. She might even figure out she doesn’t need it; she’s got wings


Photo by Rob Potter on Unsplash

Ugly Bags of Mostly Water & Magic Capsules

If you’re a Trekkie, you probably got the reference in today’s post title. An episode of the original series engaged an alien race who described humans as “ugly bags of mostly water”. I’m not that much of a Trekkie and I didn’t really like the original series that much, but two episodes stuck with me through the years. I’ll talk about the second episode in a moment.

Why did the “ugly bags of mostly water” episode come to mind last night? I’ve learned that when on an initiatory journey, like the one I started last night, it is best not to waste energy on those kinds of whys. It came to mind, so it has relevance. Thinking about being mostly water led me to thinking about Dr. Emoto’s work with water crystals. This reminded me of what he named as the three most effective phrases for healing water.

I love you. I thank you. I respect you.

I woke up this morning with these phrases in my head and understood them to be the beginning of moving into right relationship with my body, which is mostly water. Today, I began with my toes. I love you toes – you help me stay balanced, you can pick things up from the carpet, you look so pretty with polish,… I thank you toes – for contracting when it’s not safe to move ahead, for be willing to test the waters, for patiently waiting for breath and blood. I respect you toes and honor your need, at this time, to lengthen out, to wiggle in joy, to be in mud.

Being present with my toes for the time it took to express my love, discern my gratitude and listen to their needs was really quite wonderful and enlivening. I pressed each toe into the ground, saying hello to each one separately. I wiggled them. I invited them to lengthen out as far as they could and felt their sigh of pleasure. My toes have been dancing all day and I love my awareness of them. Their pleasure is rippling up my body and I’m feeling ease in my calves and knees that I haven’t felt for a long time. Tomorrow, I shall talk with my calves – after saying good morning to my toes, of course.


Photo by Ana Grave on Unsplash

The second Star Trek episode that I remember was about some women in a cave, who had been enslaved by an alien entity. The crew was confounded as to how they were enslaved. There were no bars, no chains, no beatings. Despite the prime directive to not interfere, the crew did. After doing so, they arrived at the cave to find not the beautiful sexy women they had met earlier, but old haggard and wrinkled women. You see, in response to their interference, the entity had withheld the pills that made the women beautiful. The women were sad and furious. Dr. McCoy to the rescue! He gave them placebos. They gratefully took the pills the doctor said were replicas of what they’d been taking. The women transformed back into the sexy goddesses within a few seconds of taking the placebos.

I always feel beautiful – where on the scale of beauty I’m standing depends on the day, of course. But of late, I have not felt vibrant. I’ve felt dull. I’ve been dragging. I’ve felt my wick waning. I’ve been telling myself that I feel these things and they’ve become a bit of a mantra. I’ve been seeing myself as old and disabled. That’s an awful pill to swallow.

The magic capsule episode came to mind this morning after I played with my toes. A little wiggle of my toes has me feeling giddy with the vibrant energy that’s flowing from them. My science brain is telling me that of course wiggling toes would have a full body effect. All the meridians meet at the toes. To wiggle the toes engages with all those meridians, which run through my entire body. Yeah, yeah, yeah. But wiggling my toes does not necessitate I  look for the flow of energy and vibrancy in the rest of my body. Yet, that is exactly what I am doing. My awareness of the vibrancy in my toes led me to look for signs of that same vibrancy in the rest of my body. Because I was looking for it, I found it. I feel it. I am it. Oh, the magic of quantum mechanics: what we look for, we will find. Thank you Gene Roddenberry for the episode about quantum mechanics! I feel a cellular response to my desire to see vibrancy. I feel like a tree after a long hard winter; my sap is rising. That’s my story today.


Photo by Lisa Para

Here’s to wiggling toes, quantum mechanics and a joyful initiation on the quest to finding my first guidepost. I’m fairly certain that I will find it within me – that I am the embodiment of at least this first guidepost. ~ Lena

Missing Earth: My Offering at the Crossroad

In my last post I talked about the vital need to share our stories, so that we can create purpose, kindness and harmony from the ashes of our chaotic world. I promised in this post to share a personal story. It feels so important to me, at this time in my life and in our times to name, re-frame and claim our stories. Each of these pieces carries its own challenges. To name something requires discernment and making a choice.

I am a large woman. I started putting on weight in grad school, then stayed steady and at menopause gained more weight. The reality is that I’ve been a large woman only half of my life, but I’ve been called fat since before I was in school. I remember a specific instance when I was told I shouldn’t be able to wear my brother’s pants. The message I got was that boys are bigger and therefore I was too big. I was about 5 years old. The brother in question was 3-1/2. When I look at old pictures, I see that I was perfectly normal and healthy. I was beautiful in my high school prom picture. I remember boys hitting on me, but I thought they were making fun of me. You see I what I felt and saw in the mirror never matched what my family and the world seemed to be telling me. When it came to physicality, I didn’t know what to trust.

Me thru time

Now, I work as a psychic and empath. I’m really good at working between the worlds. It’s a place that’s separate from the physical. It’s mysterious, engaging and inspiring. And not trusting my physicality seemed to have no bearing.

I need to say that my size has not been a stumbling block in my life. I was often told I was pretty; I’ve always known that I’m smart, witty and creative. I’ve had a good life. I’ve lived a very focused life – focused on my work and being of service to the world. I’ve been happy. But I have not been truly connected to my body – my physicality has always been less significant to me.

In the last few years, I’ve experienced inflammation, significant joint pain, teeth issues and low energy. The doctors take one look at me and assume I have heart issues. They cling to that despite tests that indicate only that “I might have a mild issue.” They offered no other guidance – and because of the traumatic tests and their shrug of shoulders when it wasn’t what they thought – I didn’t follow through. The truth is, I have limited mobility and that scares me.

Re-frame: I’ve been playing a shame and blame game around my body for the last couple years and in my anxiety as I searched for the right foods and answers to my body’s issues – I’ve gotten worse. Then Spider Woman came to me in a journey and taught me a few things about being an empath. Because we’re so sensitive to those around us, empaths often lose track of themselves, of who they are. As a result, we’re often on a lifetime quest to find home. After chatting, Spider Woman challenged me to find the guideposts upon which to build the web of my life. These guideposts are constant – even when we shed old webs and stop onto new ones. She suggested that my anxiety about not knowing home was directly linked to not identifying my guideposts – and to my physical health. My life’s web is not attached to a physical structure upon which I can rely. When you find your guideposts, you will immediately know how to trust them. Your work between the worlds is beautiful, but you must learn to return to and honor your physical structure.

This journey with Spider Woman happened just before the solar eclipse this last August and I have been looking for my guideposts ever since. I wasn’t sure where to find them or even what sort of thing a guidepost might be. Tonight, Heimdallr – via the Oracle of Initiation Deck – made it very clear. “Heimdallr’s glowing portal requires incorporation of the missing element, earth, to balance the passage between the worlds.” I have spent my life holding my physicality (my earth) as insignificant. Now I see it’s the missing element.

My first guidepost: I am a sensual nature being. I know the absolute truth of this, immediately. But where is this guidepost? It feels like it’s in an overgrown and neglected garden – like in the Secret Garden movie. Like that garden, it seems walled off and locked but I know it has wick; it is alive.

Claim: My quest then is to unlock the garden and tend to it, to uncover this,  my first guidepost. I commit to doing that and to sharing the journey as part of my sacred story.  It feels raw and vulnerable to make this commitment. Voices in my head are asking all sorts of questions – like, what if they think you’re ridiculous or crazy, … But another voice is telling me that this part of storytelling is not about the listeners; it’s about the person living the story and watching it unravel. And another voice is smiling and simply asking me if I’m going to walk my talk. Yes, I choose to risk sharing my story so that you may know my heart.


Photo by Mellissae Lucia

As I was searching for photos for this post, I found some from 2010 when I participated in Mellissae Lucia’s Painted Body Initiation. I realize that experience was a ritual engagement with this guidepost – but I didn’t understand its significance. The link will take you to a post about that experience. Can you sense the guidepost in the experience?

Thank you for witnessing my story.  ~ Lena

Me Too: Women at the Crossroads

This post is not about abuse. The recent meme on Facebook creates an awareness about an issue that has been hidden and shame ridden. One man wrote that he knew intellectually that abuse against women was out of control, but to see posts from his friends, associates, his sister and daughter brought the story home. It even inspired him to look at ways he may have contributed to women feeling uncomfortable. But this post is not about abuse.


Photo by Henri Meilhac on Unsplash

It’s about storytelling. Women, brave women, have led us to the crossroads where we tell our stories. Whether it’s a collective story of “Me too” or personal stories that touch our hearts and open them – our stories must be shared so that we can create purpose, kindness and harmony from the ashes of our chaotic world.


If anyone is in doubt that we are collectively at a crossroad – watch the news. Crossroads hold the unknown. At a crossroad, we sometimes freeze in indecision, fear and resistance. Sometimes we act out – ranting, bitching, blaming, shaming – because we are uncomfortable or we have a need to imagine we have more control than we’re feeling. Sometimes, we talk about things that don’t matter – just to distract ourselves and others from the reality of the crossroad.


Photo by Mike Enerio on Unsplash

But the crossroad is a place of mystery and possibility. If we can slow down, breathe, tell our stories and listen to one another with an open heart – we will know what to do to change the world. Feel it calling.

I know what some of you are thinking: that’s sweet, but I can’t fix the world – and I certainly can’t make choices that will affect the entire world.

Ah, but you can. Physicist, Dr. Gregg Braden tells us that it only takes the square root of 1% of the population to create change. That’s a very small number. According to “Newgeography”, over half of the US, lives in cities with about 25,000 people. Let’s use that number. It only takes about 16 people to create change in a population of 25,000. Do the math and open to the reality that you can make change. And it’s time for us to take up the challenge of creating change, instead of leaving it up to the metaphorical 16 people who scream at us on twitter and the daily news. We cannot let them dictate the story of who we are becoming. We must, at least,  throw our stories and our dreams into the mix. Whether we do, or don’t, we will be affecting the entire world.


Photo by Karl Magnuson on Unsplash

Women have gathered at the crossroads throughout history. We are the gatherers. We’ve gathered at wells, around the cooking fire, in the Red Tent, in quilting bees, down at the river. We’ve shared our stories and banded together to make necessary change. Until recent decades, we have cried, “Me too,” for centuries. And from those me too’s, we’ve discovered the paths to take at every crossroad. The world needs this feminine way of gathering, listening, discerning and action.

I’d like to be clear that change is not about gender. The roots of change I’m calling us to is about the feminine energies of taking time to gather, to listen, to witness, to fiercely stand in our knowing and demand that the needs of the family, village, community be met. This feminine energy exists in all of us – men and women – and it’s time for it to take center stage. And once we’ve heard each other’s hearts, we need the masculine energies within each of us to take our intentions and make them manifest in the world.

How do we start? We gather at the dinner table and listen to each other’s stories – not sound bites – real stories from people you can see and hear IRL (in real life). When friends or colleagues ask how we are, we tell them something significant. And when we ask them, we look at them and listen to their answer. We make time (we can’t afford not to anymore) to gather regularly – to witness and be witnessed in our lives. We find our feminine voices and use them. It’s not rocket science, folks. It can be as scary as hitting that ignition switch, but only because we’re out of practice. When we risk it, we find deep joy and the magic of shared hearts.

It is the witnessed life that matters. It is the shared life/story that nurtures and heals. Social media has its uses and can give us the distance we might need to try out our voices without having to look anyone in the eye. Through it, we can inspire and inform. But we cannot gather in circle to hear each other’s voices, see each other’s hearts, hold each other’s hands.

Women have gathered us. We’re here at the crossroad, needing our hearts to be heard and our lives to be changed. This time Me too cannot be our rallying call or our quiet voice of sharing; it’s been taken. Perhaps, I’ll be a witness, I’m listening, I have time, or I have a story – or maybe we need to just take one little action, today.Head shot

I do have a story. Today, I make the commitment to share. Let me gather its threads and share it on my next post. Until then, …  ~ Lena

Here’s Some Light for Your Journey

This afternoon I was reading Lorna Bevin’s weekly forecast. It’s not unusual for me to read a forecast and say to myself, “That’s how I felt last week, or two days ago.” As a sensitive I often feel energies long before they actually “land”. Several friends who are also highly empathic and sensitive say they have similar experiences.

If you read my last post, you know that last week was a doozie – very intense with lots of insight and a teaching. It slammed me out of all expected proportion. This week I feel fairly grounded and able to take on the world – the world, that Lorna says will be dealing with energies where “Everything – good or bad – will be dramatised and blown out of all proportion.”

As I read further, Lorna encouraged me to be the light in the darkness. Happy to be that.

Oh?! Well, isn’t’ that brilliant (pun not intended, but thoroughly enjoyed)!

Did I just tap into one of the key functions of a sensitive? Do we feel things before anyone else so that we can deal with it and then be ready to serve when whatever it is, lands for the collective? It makes sense on two fronts. First, as a sensitive, if I have to work with intense energies – I’d prefer to do it without everyone around me also being intense. It is definitely easier for me to process in an environment that is more grounded and calm. Second, having already worked with the intense energies, as an experienced sensitive, I can stay grounded while offering love and light to those around me. It just makes plain good sense. Brilliant!

The next time someone tells me I’m too sensitive, I’ll suggest they thank me. And the next time I feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the collective, I’ll remember to simply shine my light and love into the field to help ground and calm.

When one can make sense of the challenges that go with the gifts they carry, it makes a world of difference. It’s pure magic. We sensitives have a tendency to hide, mostly for self-preservation. For me, it’s time to step out boldly and courageously – to openheartedly offer my gifts and trust that they will be welcomed (even if they’re not understood or consciously noticed – and even if they call me a freak).

Lorna, in her forecast, continues to encourage with Clarissa Pinkola Estes’ wonderful call to action:
“One of the most calming and powerful actions you can do to intervene in a stormy world is to stand up and show your soul. Soul on deck shines like gold in dark times. The light of the soul throws sparks, can send up flares, builds signal fires, causes proper matters to catch fire. To display the lantern of soul in shadowy times like these — to be fierce and to show mercy toward others; both are acts of immense bravery and greatest necessity. Struggling souls catch light from other souls who are fully lit and willing to show it. If you would help to calm the tumult, this is one of the strongest things you can do.

There will always be times when you feel discouraged. I too have felt despair many times in my life, but I do not keep a chair for it. I will not entertain it. It is not allowed to eat from my plate.

In that spirit, I hope you will write this on your wall: When a great ship is in harbor and moored, it is safe, there can be no doubt. But that is not what great ships are built for.”

Thank you Lorna for your insight and the gifts you share with the world through the science of the stars. Today, you have made a significant difference in my life and brought me joy. Deep gratitude to you.

Check out Lorna’s website Hare in the Moon Astrology and find her monthly and weekly forecasts.

Here’s some beauty, light and love via fall brilliance from the Rogue River Valley:

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Blessings, ~ Lena

Can We Really Change Our Stories?

Honestly, I consider storytelling one of our most powerful tools. Our stories define us and create the lives we live. Sometimes I wonder if, at least for me, that is why I carry the gift of being a high empath. People’s stories are pretty transparent when I open to them – and being a high empath, people easily share their stories with me. Because of this, I get a unique look at the world – I see the stories that show up again and again. I feel their pain, their joy, their confusion, ….
For years, I thought my job was to share these common stories so that people don’t feel alone. In recent years, my gifts as a storyteller have emerged and I thought this was so I could share and teach more effectively -through the use of story. Both of these roles are relevant, but lately it has become clear that there’s more to it.
Science is giving us back our stories. Biologist, Dr. Bruce Lipton challenges us not to act as victims of our genes, but rather to understand it is the environment in which the genes live that creates our reality. That environment stems from our thoughts and beliefs – (our stories). Researchers Candace Pert and Brené Brown link our emotions to our health and well-being. Our emotions and our stories cannot be separated. Physicist, Gregg Braden and Gary Zukav – thru the science of quantum mechanics – teach us that we will always find what we look for. It is the stories we carry and tell that become the lens through which we observe our lives. Cellular, emotional and quantum insights have inspired a new interest in the power of story.
We’re being invited to recognize the stories we carry and how we carry them – AND, we’re being encouraged to revise our stories so that they truly serve us. The energy of the recent solar eclipse significantly opened opportunities to reveal our truths to us – those energies are still active.
Yesterday, I was hit squarely in the eye by an old story – a painful one that shows up as a devastating thought. It goes something like this: Everyone wants a piece of me and no one can see that I’m sitting here bleeding. This is not an unusual feeling for an empath. It happens when we give and give without remembering to tend to our own needs. I never feel so alone in the world as when that thought comes knocking. It doesn’t happen often anymore, but yesterday, it busted the door open.
Those eclipse energies are helping us release stories that don’t serve us and showing us ways to move on. The really good news is…
We don’t need to wallow in the story or pick it apart until we’ve squeezed every last bit of awareness from it. We’ve spent the last several decades doing that, but it’s no longer helpful to us. The wallowing and picking just keep us in the story we no longer want to inhabit.
So how did I work with yesterday’s story? I felt it. It came as a perfect storm, where intellectualizing about it just wasn’t possible. I felt alone. I felt devastated by it. Usually, this story comes up as a direct result of some specific interaction with people. I get angry, blame them, swear to myself I’ll never help again and hide in my own corner of the world for a few days. When I was a teenager I went to the basement and blasted “I Wanna Be Somebody’s Baby” until I felt better.
Yesterday, there was no incident and no one to attach my feelings to – no one except me. I was the one who didn’t know I was bleeding; I didn’t notice.
In the last few weeks, I’ve been highly focused on learning social media marketing to promote my books and business. I was staggering under a list of to-dos that will never end. I pressured myself to post, blog and make videos; to design classes and meet with people – all so that I could continue doing what I love.
I love writing, storytelling and teaching. I’m learning marketing so that I can do what I love. Yet, in the last few weeks, I’ve done very little of what I love. In fact, the only place I was in the joy was when I was engaging with the community on my Facebook Group: Psychics, Intuitives, Empaths & Sensitives. That was the only place I was engaging in the magic of what I do.
With all this revelation, I couldn’t help but ask the question, “Have I always been the one who didn’t know I was bleeding?” My truth: I’ve always been one of the ones who didn’t know I was bleeding.
Yes, my sense of devastation and feeling alone deepened a notch or two. I sat there with tears rolling down my cheeks. What do I need to do to change this?
Because I felt a little helpless around answering this question, I metaphorically threw up my hands in defeat and continued crying. And then, something wonderful happened…
The thought came again and this time the story felt like a caress. I was shocked and I tried to push it away; I did not want this thought/story to be part of my life. But it was fierce and stood its ground, at the same time it emitted loving energy. Somehow, I heard it tell me, “I am your ally. I’m here in service to you.”
Shock and confusion can be wonderful things when a well trenched story needs to change. I shook my head and thought, what the fuck?!  (I rarely use the F word, except when I’m very stressed.)
I was at a loss; I had no idea what to do? And that’s when my resistance yielded and this new story could take root. My truth: this thought is an ally – a fierce one that knows how to get my attention and put me on alert. It only visits when I’ve missed earlier warning signs, like “I’m really tired,” and “I’d like to escape to …..”
the story matrix
This thought that I’m bleeding and everyone wants a piece of me is no longer a story about being used up, ignored and underappreciated by my friends/family/community. This ally, this fierce and loving ally, shows up as a thought to tell me I need to take care of myself, now.
I hope that I never see this ally again. And, I am deeply grateful to know she will show up, if necessary and lovingly order me back into balance.
While I’m sharing gratitude, here’s a shout out to Barry Manilow, who always noticed I was bleeding and sent me his music and lyrics as a balm. He raged with me in “I Wanna Be Somebody’s Baby”  and inspired me to give things another shot with “One Voice”.
Here’s to all our allies and here’s hoping we see them clearly.  Much love to you all! ~ Lena

Do I Have the Courage?

I’m on the precipice. There’s no going back; the joy has left that path and I just feel bored when I consider staying put. My toes are gripping the edge of the cliff. But I have no idea what it is that I’m jumping into. It calls me, but ….Do I have the courage to jump?

I’ve been sitting with this question for a couple of days. I’ve been beating myself up for lacking the courage I think I need. But I just can’t move. My calves are cramping, but still I teeter. This question seems to just keep me stuck.

As soon as I hear myself say the word stuck, it occurs to me that I’m asking an unworthy question. (See earlier post on The Unworthy Question.) I step back from that teetering edge and consider what is going on. The situation feels ambiguous. I’m not really sure what it is that I need to leave. I love working with private clients. I enjoy writing. I’m even feeling intrigued with learning about effective use of social media. Yet, something is off. I feel bored with myself, with my life.

Something is calling me. I can feel it, hear it. It draws me – but I don’t know what it is. I just feel that I need it. But maybe I’m wrong.  Do I have the courage to jump anyway?

Ding, ding, ding! Of course I’m teetering; I’m asking a question full of doubt.

I trust myself enough to trust my knowing that I need to jump. The question I need is: Where do I find the courage? Yes, that feels better. This question infers that I will find the courage, even if I don’t know where. This question just makes plain good sense. I relax and open to possibilities.

I decide to check my emails. My friend, Suzy Wenger, is traveling in Ireland and has sent me a photo from the Cliffs of Moher.

Cliffs of Moher - Suzy

Cliffs of Moher, Ireland – Photo by Suzy Wenger

I feel transported and intrigued by the mysterious caves, rock formations and the water itself. I want to stand on top of the cliffs and dive. I imagine doing so: the wind blowing through my hair, the freedom of the fall, the welcoming waves, all the possibilities to explore. Yes, I feel fear too. But the mystery calls me more fiercely than the voice of fear; louder than my science brain that tells me there are rocks below the water and that the water is freezing.

Where do I find the courage to jump? In the mystery, I find it in the mystery – right next to adventure, curiosity and wings – my wings. It’s simply time to fly.  I no longer need courage, I just need to remember that I have wings – and that the mystery holds magic. Who’d have guessed I’d find all that in a photo – minutes after I found the worthy question.

Wanna know where my wings are taking me? Me too. I’ll share it in my next post.
Head shot

Preening my wings in preparation for flight, ~ Lena

We’re the Winds of Change

PIES saying

My last post focused on being different. Today, let’s explore what it means to be the Winds of Change. Wind comes in lots of varieties and change doesn’t have to be big or difficult.

No one can deny we’re living in a time of great change – it is literally in the stars as we leave the Piscean Age and enter into the Aquarian Age. Those who are comfortable in the status quo are digging in their heels. Bless them; they have an important job to do. Because it is so needed, lots of us are incarnating at this time to facilitate change. Bless us; we’re not always understood or appreciated. Together, the changers and the status quo folks orchestrate a dance, which hopefully retains what works, as it shifts and transforms what doesn’t.

If you suspect that you are one of the changers, breathe. Change doesn’t have to be big or difficult. You have not signed up for something that needs to overwhelm you or requires sacrifices you really don’t want to make. Let’s talk about winds.

Winds, like those that came with Harvey in Texas or Irma along the Atlantic Coast, are not everyday winds. These kinds of fierce winds are devastating, yet relatively rare. No one is asking you to leave a path of destruction in your wake.

Imagine a gentle wind cooling you on a hot summer’s day. Consider the welcome winds that cleared our smoky air here in Washington State. Our air was toxic and now it is breathable. Those same winds could have encouraged more fires, yet we needed them to improve our air quality. Imagine the wind that fills the sails, taking your boat across the lake on a sunny day. You get my point? Winds come in many varieties.

So what kind of wind do you bring to the world?

Let me ask you a different question: In what way(s) do you serve the world that also brings you great joy? This relates, I promise. We’re all given gifts and talents to serve the world. By design, those gifts and talents will bring us great joy (so that we can do them with ease, grace and for the long haul, if needed.)

If you’re someone who thinks differently, expresses yourself uniquely, has special needs – if you’re a square peg in a world of round holes – you’re probably a changer. Find the things that fill your sails, then set your course. The water is good!

“Sometimes we are lucky enough to know our lives have been changed, to discard the old and embrace the new and run headlong down an immutable course. It happened to me on that summer’s day when my eyes were opened to the sea.” – Jacques Yves-Cousteau

Too often we believe we have to do something big or outrageous in order to make any difference. The truth is that whatever you do makes a difference – most directly in your own life. Each action ripples out into the world. Why not dream your dreams and make them manifest. If it fills your sails and brings you joy, the world will be better off.

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbour. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore! Dream! Discover!” – Mark Twain

Years ago I visited the Whidbey Institute on Whidbey Island in Puget Sound. I was thrilled to find a labyrinth and walked it. When I came out, I brought this song with me.

This song from the  labyrinth was my first teaching in how powerful it is when we find the gifts that bring us joy and offer them to the world. It’s a life changer – for you and the world. Imagine how different our world would be if only 1% of us started doing what truly brings us joy. It can be scary, but quickly it becomes incredibly juicy and fulfilling. It is the magic elixir of life and brings us incredible joy. Doesn’t it make just plain good sense to enter this dance?

“A ship in port is safe, but that’s not what ships were built for.” ~ Grace Hopper

All of us have our oceans to sail. We will encounter winds that take us to our intended destinations; winds that seem to be at cross purposes; even no wind at all. Our dreams and intentions – our joys, gifts and talents – are the oars, the sails and the rudder. We must use them. And when we find and live our path and purpose, we inspire others. Simply by example, we become the wind that fills their sails – or perhaps the wind beneath their wings.

What I’m saying folks is to acknowledge you are the winds of change, but don’t focus on how the world needs to change. It’s unlikely that you can see clearly enough to know what the whole world needs. I prefer to trust that the Universe brought me and my gifts to this time and place for a reason. I don’t need to know that reason. I simply need to commit to using well the gifts I’ve been given in service to the world. And here’s a vital point: not only is it OK to enjoy what you’re doing, joy is the sign that you’re offering your gifts in the right way at the right time.

As psychics, intuitives, empaths and sensitives, we must be willing to step into our joys and dreams and risk offering them to the world. This is everyone’s work, of course. But for us carrying these unique sacred gifts, it is vital. There’s a reason so many of us are incarnating at this time. We’re greatly needed. There’s a reason we’re different.

“We can’t solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them.” – Albert Einstein

Head shotSmall, everyday actions that bring us joy (even when they’re challenging) – these are the most effective winds of change. Just begin.

Blessings to each of you, Lena.

I started a Facebook group to support psychics, intuitives, empaths and sensitives. If you are interested in being a part of P.I.E.S. visit the Facebook page and ask to join. On the page you will find four intro videos, group discussions and resources. 

If you learn best by story, you might benefit more by reading my novels, which feature everyday people finding and living their sacred gifts and offering them in service to the world. Find my books.


Calling the Beloveds

Certain places on the land speak to me. I don’t mean that they touch a place deep within me that brings a sense of connection (although this is also true); I mean it literally speaks to me. Sometimes I have to pull over so that I can concentrate on what it is the land wishes to share. You see I’m a path walker and a wayshower.

In the last several years, as the world faces great change and is in need of new ways of operating, I have been inundated with information. My job is to discern how best to share the information.

Earlier this year I traveled in Southern California. Heading east from Tehachapi the voices started. When Tonantzin began to speak to me, I pulled over and opened my heart and ears. That particular message was personal and her presence stayed with me for the rest of that journey. As I traveled back along the same route, I hoped for another conversation with her. I felt her presence, but she had no other words for me.

However, as I approached Tehachapi again, the hills began to cry. “Where are the beloveds?” they asked in a voice both sad and hungry. I immediately pulled off the road with the intention of singing to help ease their pain. I grounded myself, connected to the land and sang their pain.

After a few moments, I felt their stunned silence. This was followed by hushed whispers about a beloved. I heard both excitement and doubt in their whispers. I kept singing until I heard one voice. “Welcome Beloved.” I realized the voice was speaking to me.

“What is a beloved?” I asked.

A beloved, they told me, is one who actively engages with nature – someone who listens, hears and offers something of themselves, often in healing. Long ago, many beloveds talked with us, worked with us, loved us. Now, there are so few.

I asked them about the Faeries and was told that yes, they are beloveds. The Fey however are diminishing as natural places diminish. Humans used to work with them and together they offered healing where it was needed on the land. Mostly, however, they simply engaged deeply in nature’s beauty. Seeing and appreciating beauty is an act of healing; it’s preventative medicine that helps keep all in balance. Sharing in the beauty of nature also offers this medicine to humans and Fey. This exchange of beauty is a way of loving self and those around you – plants, animals, stones, water, ….

Yakima River 2

Yakima River, near where I live.

I flashed back to my trip in NW Ohio several years earlier where an Elm tree taught me RiverSong. In RiverSong you listen to the innate song of a river (or a tree, person, community) and sing its song back to it. This act strengthens the river’s song and brings it healing. As the river’s song grows in strength and no longer needs you, something wonderful happens. You begin hearing your own innate song. The river invites you to sing your song in harmony with the river song. This exchange is phenomenally healing and ecstatic.

I began singing the hills of Tehachapi again. Their song grew stronger and when they no longer needed my voice, I found my own innate song. Together we sang, healing each other and calling to other beloveds.

If you’re reading this, I’m guessing you are also a beloved. Trust yourself. Spend more time with nature – not passively, but as an act of healing. Notice the beauty, take it in. Speak it, sing it- and in the song, I hope you find your innate song – so I can sing it back to you.

I usually like to at least refer to the science of the esoteric work I do. I could talk about vibrational resonances, but somehow it feels like some of the magic will disappear. Don’t think about it, simply enter the beauty and joy as you commune. It will be lovely. These mutually beneficial exchanges just make plain good sense.

If you want to explore this work more, join my email list; my Facebook page; or you can learn about these practices in “Choices for Joy” – or if you prefer learning via story, try “In the Arms of the Spiral“.

Head shotBlessings Beloveds

~ Lena