Self-Discovery – JoyBasics

Womb Life

When we think of human lifecycles, we might think in terms of infancy to elderly. But there are other cycles or changes, not discussed in biology, that are unpredictable, yet they are waiting in the wings at any stage of life.

For 23 years I was an administrative assistant at a college in New England. When covid hit in March of 2020, we were all sent to work from home. I loved it! I felt like the introverts of the world had won the lottery.

The following fall, they wanted us to return to the office. I did not want to go back. Covid cooties! I prayed for an offer of early retirement. It came. They offered. I accepted.

I had been working part-time for my daughter remotely as an executive assistant. Now that I had more free time, she increased my duties, my pay, and my hours. Awesome. I loved working for her, and being in touch with her daily. Our close relationship got even closer.

She had been battling breast cancer off and on over the years. We thought her double mastectomy would finally be the end of it. But in October, the cancer returned. It had metastasized to her liver. More chemo.

Around that time, my husband accepted a better position with his company that required a move to their headquarters in the midwest. He’d have to fly back and forth on weekends until we moved. The job started in January 2022; I started packing up the house.

By March, we were loading furniture and boxes into moving pods. One Sunday amid the chaos of friends helping us empty the house, I received a text from my daughter’s wife that she was failing fast. I dropped what I was doing and flew to Brooklyn, a four hour drive. Halfway there, I got a text that she had passed. I stayed down there for the week to help with the granddaughters until their dad took them in.

I had lost my daughter, my job, and soon my house. I just kept going through the motions of moving, packing, tossing, donating, selling, cleaning, and searching for a place to land. We still hadn’t found a house to move into.

Finally in May, we closed on a house. We sold our New England home in June, made the final trek to the midwest, and moved into a new house, in a new area where I knew no one.

My identity had been shaken up like craps dice. I used to be an administrative assistant, mother, crafter, songwriter, and performer. Over the years, I had co-founded and sung in a top-forty band, formed a four-woman a cappella group, and created Melinda Marie, a stand-up comedy act. In my junior year of college (at age 63), I wrote and performed a one-woman musical.

Now, in my new life, there is silence. I’m now drawn to local libraries and reading books. Meditating. Yoga. Practicing mediumship. Now there’s an abundance of alone time to go within. Plenty of time for healing and grieving. Reacclimating.

Soon, fall will fall into winter when I usually hibernate inside. It’s like I’m in a womb, preparing for some kind of rebirth. My new identity is yet unknown, no sneak preview. The Universe has me on a “need to know” basis.

I feel no inkling of a desire to be out there performing…or hunting for a meaningless job for that matter.

Womb life. Kept in the dark. I’m being held in the warm belly of the Universe until it’s time for a rebirth. A new life cycle. (I kinda feel like sucking my thumb. Is that wrong?)

Navigating loss, identity, and love in the “Chapter 3” of our lives.

First of all, let’s be grateful that we even made it to the Chapter Three of our lives. Not all of us are granted that status. By this stage of life, my loves, many of us have lost spouses, parents, pets, friends, or have even experienced the loss of a child.

Loss comes in other forms, as well: Loss through divorce, house fire, loss of a job due to covid, retirement, or “restructuring,” a.k.a. being replaced by a younger, less expensive (salary-wise) model. (Not fashion model, no. That’s the spousal department.)

We’re older and hopefully wiser. We’ve been around the block enough times to feel, well, dizzy! And, jumbled in with our various losses is the potential loss of our identity. Who are we, if not the caretaker of our loved ones, be they aging parents, ailing spouses, or terminally ill adult children who need help with the grandchildren?

We ask ourselves, What’s next? How do I begin this new chapter? I don’t know how to handle being in limbo. I’m so used to working a job or being busy serving others and sensing or asking them what they need or want.

I have so little practice taking time for myself and asking, “Hey, rock star! Me? Yes, you! What do you want? What have you set aside all these years? What’s a new idea that’s been waiting in the wings to be given center stage? What makes your heart area warm and fluttery…besides caring for others?”

Be the caretaker of you for five minutes…or longer, if you can stand it! Try this exercise. (Don’t worry, you don’t have to get off the couch…except for pen and paper.) What and who were you surrounded by growing up? What or who in that scenario do you want to keep, work through, or toss?

Make a list of both “good” and “bad.” (I put those words in quotes because once we depart this lovely planet, those qualifications no longer exist, I believe. Those are human determinations that we created. But that’s saved for another chapter, isn’t it?)

Ok, pen and paper ready? List what non-physical traits you inherited or were subconsciously influenced by in your childhood. What values were held by the adults around you? What shortcomings were in play?

Below is my list in no particular order: (names/roles were withheld to protect the not-so-innocent, but you should feel free to embellish your own list as you see fit. No one will read it…unless you post it on social media!)

Teaching/education
Book writing and creative writing
Theater
Love of animals
Love of children
Spirituality/psychic phenomena
Victimhood
Subservience
Strong work ethic
Creativity
Dance
Music (piano playing, singing, songwriting)
Avoidance of conflict
Abundance/money is “bad.”
Abundance/money is success.
Reverence for Nature
Quaker meeting
Atheism
Soft spoken parents
Mental health issues
Divorce

I’m sure there’s more, but making this list will help bring you back to your roots and who you are and how you feel about the influences of your upbringing.

End of Part I.

Dream vs. Reality

My dad passed away at age 92 on September 16, 2013.

On September 28, 2016, I wrote this in my dream journal:

The other night, I dreamt I ran into Dad. In the dream, I had just gotten out of class or something — I was exiting a building with a lot of people. I almost walked right past him, but glanced back to see him standing against the doorway, waiting for me.

“Dad! When did you get here?!” I asked.

He looked professorial in his gray suit and tie. His crewcut reminded me how he looked in his forties. I asked if he was hungry. He said yes.

The dream continued someplace else…maybe my place. I was making a BLT. He was no longer in my purview. I ate my sandwich and forgot, or neglected, to make something for him.

Then he reappeared. I felt terribly guilty for not making him some food and only thinking of myself. I asked if he was still hungry. His answer was unclear, and then the dream ended.

Earlier that day, I’d been thinking about Dad. I had thought about how his love and affection had dissipated around the time I reached puberty. His pulling away felt sudden. I was 13.

I’d always thought it had something to do with me, with my age, that he was uncomfortable with it. But this day–before the dream–I had realized that his emotional waning happened to coincide with his planning a divorce from my mom. It had nothing to do with my age or the changes I was experiencing. Separation and divorce were likely first and foremost on his mind.

As in the dream, I had only thought of myself and my needs. I hadn’t considered what was going on for him at the time.

Unraveling Our Heritage

I recently came across a passage about Spirituality and Abundance while rereading
Anita Moorjani’s latest book, Sensitive is the New Strong. I scanned the pages and shared them with my daughter who, like me—since I was the one who raised her—struggles with allowing, and not resisting, abundance in her life and work.

Money. Just the word congers up a wad of mixed emotions. Guilt. Desire. Fear. Gratitude. We weren’t born with any innate feelings about this social construct; we were taught by example or had experiences that led us to this end as adults.

Let’s face it, we need money in our society in order to survive, in order to own shelter, in order to eat, to be well, to seek treatment for ailments. Some abandon society’s demands and choose to be homeless, to scavenge or beg on street corners. But that’s got to be a tough life, too. One that’s not for me, if I can avoid it. I’d rather struggle to make ends meet with the basics. Well, truth is, I’d rather not have to struggle.

In my experience, we reap that which we believe. If we believe we’re not lovable, we reap crappy relationships. If we believe the world is unkind and dangerous, we attract such experiences. If we believe we are not deserving of abundance for whatever reason, be it low self-esteem, a wish to be closer to God, or a belief in its “evil” nature, we attract less of it. The Universe provides by supporting our beliefs.

The issue lies, then, in changing our long-held beliefs. It’s easy to trace their origins. I just look under the rock I crawled out from while in the care of my parents. My mom, a gentle spiritual, but also troubled soul, chose poverty to be closer to God and live among the poor. This came after the divorce and just shy of completing her master’s degree. My dad, a former professor, seemed a little tight fisted around money which may be why we always seemed to have enough.

I take after my mother, being highly intuitive, sensitive, and spiritual in nature and wanting to help people. At age 16, I won a creative writing contest in Seventeen magazine for which I was awarded $30. I donated half to a non-profit children’s fund. Already I was practicing self-lessness and feelings of not deserving of abundance if others were in need.

As an adult, I still give to charity on occasion, but I have also learned that it’s ok to keep 100% of what I earn, especially when I’m helping people. In my channeling practice, I help clients by being a vessel so their Guides can convey needed messages to them. It’s a fair trade.

Channeling is my North Node, astrologically speaking, my Dharma, my calling. Many people get paid for following their calling, some make millions. I was given this gift as a means to survive in this lifetime, whether it be for my own Guidance, or to help others navigate theirs.

I continue to unravel my heritage.

2020 Vision

The year 2020 has been a huge reset button. A year of truth-telling, shining light where there was darkness.

My sensitive nephew became my beautiful niece. My step-daughter left an oppressive and emotionally abusive relationship, my colleague went public about a festering issue at Smith College.

For me, being forced to work from home since March, gave me the bandwidth to reexamine life and come into my own.

Without the 40 minute commute each way, I had more time to give to the things I love: crafting and building my website.

I realigned with Source and filled my heart with gratitude. I produced guided meditations and visualizations to help ease fears for myself and others. This has been a time of rebirth and self-re-examination. My purpose became crystal clear:

“Use your gift of clairaudience to help others. Come out of the shadows publicly as a psychic channeler to give more readings. Release self-doubt and fear of reproach.”

There’s no more tolerance for lies and deception. We are embarking on a new decade, a new way forward. Going backward is not in the cards.

How has 2020 changed you for the better? What’s your 2020 vision for your own future? What are your unique gifts bestowed upon you to inch humanity forward?