As I was writing my last post, the longest one EVER, I laughed because my body hit the “Publish” button instead of “Save Draft” button. And as my mind realized it, I went NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! But, my body was done with it at that point.
As I was writing my last post, the longest one EVER, I laughed because my body hit the “Publish” button instead of “Save Draft” button. And as my mind realized it, I went NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! But, my body was done with it at that point.
My ex-husband just sent me a text to let me know that his mother died last night.
I already knew. I could feel her dying over the weekend.
On Friday evening, I texted him a couple of funny photos, and he did not respond, and that’s when the feeling that she was dying started to move within me. I made some joke to my BFF as to why he wasn’t responding, but I was trying to hide the underlining thought even to myself. The next day as I was flying back home to Phoenix from Reno, and I had to switch planes in Salt Lake City, the feeling of her death engulfed me. She lives in SLC.
This morning, I called my BFF in Reno, and she was telling me about a dream she had last night (3/5 Splenic Projector). She dreamt that she and I were in a cute little Hello Kitty car and we were driving around. We came into contact with my mom, but we didn’t see her. We both knew she was dead, but my mom was very happy, and we were happy to know that she was happy (My mom died in 2007.). As my BFF was driving us around and she came across her mom, who is still living. Her mom waved, and we waved back. She was very happy, too. And then, my BFF said she started screaming. Her husband woke her up. She has no idea why she started screaming when the dream was so pleasant. When she was telling me about her dream, I had this overwhelming feeling that my ex-husband’s mom died last night. I knew she had died.
My ex-husband sent me a text 45 minutes after I got off the phone with my BFF. He texted, “My mom died last night.” I responded, “ I know. I could feel her dying over the weekend.”
This isn’t the first time I’ve felt death coming like this.
The first time I felt it was when I was 13 years old. My grandmother had just suffered a stroke, and my mom was with her at her house. When I came home from school, I begged my stepfather to drive me over to her house. I told him that we had to get there soon because I could feel she was dying. She was leaving us. I remember he was frustrated with me. I pleaded and begged. He wasn’t in a rush to get there. And then I felt it; I could feel her take her last breath. And fifteen minutes later, my mom called to let me know that she had died. I told her, “I know. I felt her take her last breath.”
Ten years ago, my mom had difficulty breathing and called 911. At the time, my ex-husband and I were in the middle of a move. We were moving from a smaller to a larger apartment in our complex. I had my ringer off while we were working and later that night, I checked my phone and found that I had 47 missed calls from my sister. I listened to the first voice mail and heard her voice in complete panic mode. I called her back to find out that my mom was in ICU, but that my mom was doing fine. My sister was encouraging us to finish our move.
I got off the phone and told my ex-husband what was going on. Then, the feeling of my mom’s death enveloped me. I started to cry. I could feel that my mom didn’t have long to live. I kept telling my ex that I could feel she was going to die. I needed to get to El Paso as soon as possible. We were tired from moving, and I couldn’t stop crying, so we decided to leave in the morning as soon as we spoke to the apartment manager. And that’s what we did. We hopped in my car, and six hours later, we were in El Paso, next to my mom.
My mom looked great. She was perky and happy. She had asked my sister to get her makeup, so she had black eyeliner on and red lipstick. She puckered up her little lips and reached her neck up to kiss me. She looked fabulous! I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was dying. Her doctor came in and spoke to me that she had had a heart attack and that they needed to do an angiogram the following evening. I stayed with my mom. My ex and I went out to have dinner, and we didn’t stay away long. I could feel that time was ticking. I didn’t have much longer with my mom. I wanted to spend every last minute with her.
She signed a DNR. The following day she had the angiogram, and when she came back from it, she was in a lot of pain. The doctor said that her arteries were too small due to her diabetes and that they couldn’t perform the angiogram. They did see that my mom had two arteries blocked at a 100%, one at 80% and another at 60%. I made the doctor spill it out. He confirmed she was dying. There was nothing they could do.
When she came back from the procedure, she was in a lot of pain. She had a scream that didn’t even sound human. I watched my mom over 7 hours have one heart attack after another. She refused morphine until the bitter end. She was a very devout Catholic, and she was praying the entire time, offering all of her pain to the souls of purgatory. It was excruciating, yet, beautiful and mesmerizing, to witness.
It was getting late, and a nurse came in and told my sister and me that only one of us could spend the night with my mom. I wanted to be there with her, but my sister wanted it more. My ex-husband and I left the hospital and went to our hotel room, and I tried to fall asleep. I thought I would never fall asleep. Then, all of a sudden, I woke up. I quickly sat up and looked at the clock, lay back down, and a few minutes passed, I felt my mother take her last breath. Fifteen minutes later, my sister calls me to tell me that our mom died.
There are two other family deaths that I knew would happen, but I didn’t feel their last breath, my grandpa, and my stepfather. They both had super sudden deaths, and I just knew when they left that they weren’t coming back. My grandpa died when I was seven, and my stepfather died when I was seventeen. I was closest to my grandma and my mom so I figure that’s why I felt their last breaths and with my former mother-in-law, I felt that she was in the process of dying and knowing her end.
Ever since my grandpa’s death, my mom talked a lot about death to my sister and me. I remember when I was ten she crocheted a blanket for one for each of us. She asked me what colors I wanted and I told her that I wanted all the pastel ones. My sister wanted the same. So, she made two. When she finished them and presented them to us, she told us that our blankets would comfort us when she was no longer alive and that when we wrapped our blankets around us, it would be her giving us a hug.
I love my gift of intuition, but it’s at times like these that I find it can be a very painful gift to have. I never want to be right about someone dying. I can’t help it. I just know when they are moving into it. Ever since I was a child, I’ve felt that I walk in between two worlds, life and death. I’ve come close to death several times and yet, I’m still here. I feel like Death fucked around with me for a little bit, just enough to remind me how important living is and it’s these lessons that make me very aware of how short our time is here. I also feel that my family was taken away from me at such an early age so that I have no one to stop me from living LIFE.
In case you were wondering, Do I know when I’m going to die? No. I do know that when it’s time, I will “walk out of here” and slam the door as fast as I can in order to the see the next whatever, because I’d be dying (Hahaha!) to know. I know that I won’t have a long drawn out death. Nope. No one in my family has had one, and I know that’s because each one of them made that choice long before they died.
I do speak to the dead on a regular basis. I chat with my family mostly. I’d used to talk to each one individually, but when my mom died, I felt like they all became a group. I’d say 80% are family. There are a couple of unknown souls that leave and re-enter “The Gang.” That’s how I refer to them … The Gang. They hang out with me ALL OF THE TIME and wherever I go! However, when I’m busy, I ignore them completely. Channel 34/20 works the same way whether you’re alive or dead. I can go days without talking to them. When I’m busy doing something I love, everyone leave me alone! 😉
All of my family members are all dead except for my sister. I’ve already started talking to my former mother-in-law. (She’s already told me not to call her that. Her first name will do. I know, but I’m writing this anonymously. I’m not sticking your name in this even if you are dead! LOL.) Do they speak back? Yes and No. Sometimes I hear words, a couple of words, not full sentences or I’ll get flashes of information in pictures or pictures of words, or I’ll find something, someplace, or someone that has an answer. I may spontaneously meet someone and they’ll bust into a conversation with me. As they share their secrets, I’m getting answers. I used to secretly think that I was bat-shit crazy until I went to see Allison DuBois speak about her experiences as a Medium. When I saw her in action that I was like, “Fuck yeah! I’m not a nut case. I do have one foot in the door!” Then, I read every book she wrote. Yup. I’m not alone.
All this “death talk,” talking about death and The Gang made my ex-husband feel very uncomfortable when we were together. In the past, it’s not something I shared even with my closest friends.Long before Human Design, I knew talking about that stuff either made me sound like a genius or a complete freak. (Channel 43/23) My intuition is pretty solid, but it can be hard for people to take; however, in the last year, ever since I moved to Downtown Phoenix I have found myself surrounded by people that appreciate that aspect of me. They ask me for my advice, and all of my advice is very intuitive. They aren’t afraid that I can’t explain what I know or how I know it, but they trust it after they’ve witnessed it.
It can be as simple as sitting around in a coffee shop while talking to my new bestie. The day before I went to Reno, I picked up my bestie’s partner from the airport. Her partner and I went to hang out at a coffee shop before I drove us home.
New Bestie: I hope I can get my apartment in Chicago rented by July 1st.
Me: You will.
New Bestie: Hopefully, my landlord can get someone in by July 15th so I don’t have to pay a full month’s rent. Oh, my apartment is such a mess. I can’t believe they are showing it.
Me: Seriously, don’t worry. It’ll all work out. They’ll find someone for July 1st. Shit, they’ll most likely increase the rent by at least 30%. It’ll be a win-win for everyone. You’ll have it rented before you go back to Chicago [in 6 days].
New Bestie: You really think so?
Me: Yup. You’ll have it rented before you get on the plane.
Then six days go by, and I get this text while I’m in Reno and she’s getting ready to board her plane to Chicago.
New Bestie: Shutting phone off. Missed you in Phx!!! Can’t wait to reconvene!!!
Me: Take care! See you soon!
A few minutes pass, and I get this message.
New Bestie: My apartment was rented you were right!!!
Me: Yup. I see the future.
(Ha! I guess my body was done writing this! It hit the publish button before I could wrap it up and before I found a photo to insert. LOL. Ok. Done!)
I’m processing … stay tuned! 🙂
“What will mess you up most in life is the picture in your head of how it is supposed to be.” —Unknown
A week ago, a former close friend of mine, Ni, had contacted me via text. It had been nine months since we had last talked. Our friendship didn’t end on a very good note because I couldn’t fulfill her projections and expectations. (Read Burning at the Stake.)
The moment I saw her text come through on my phone, my stomach turned. Her texting tone was very friendly, and she wanted to know how I was doing. I read it, reread it, and my Sacral was giving me a big FUCK NO. Nope. I’m not responding, and that is my response.
The truth is that months ago I forgave her for her erratic and nasty behavior towards me, but I have NOT forgotten what she said to me and how she ultimately treated me. When I shattered her projections and expectations of me, she became furious. She took some of the personal and vulnerable things that I had shared with her, and she threw them back in my face trying to hurt me with them, a deal breaker for me when it comes to any relationship.
What I’ve learned over my lifetime is that people don’t change. It takes a catastrophic and traumatic event for change to happen and even then, people sometimes don’t change. As a 5/1 profile, I am very skeptical about her current intentions. She’s pleasant now, but for how long? What I realized is that I can’t trust her and that’s NOT a friendship. I have zero room for someone like that in my life.
As I read Ni’s text, my Sacral made the immediate decision NOT to respond, but I did take a moment to stop and think about whether I was operating from my Sacral versus my open Solar Plexus/Open Ego … Do I have something to prove? Was I was trying to avoid her? I made a quick check-in with myself just to make sure that I was operating correctly.
A few days go by, and then, I received a series of text messages from her from a different phone number. She states that she was afraid that I had blocked her number and she wanted to make sure that I was receiving her messages. She wants to know how I’m doing and wants me to know that she misses our friendship. She wants to talk and hang out.
Again, my sacral says, “NO!” It’s so loud!
Honestly, before I started experimenting with Human Design, I would have given Ni another chance. My mind would have talked me into giving her another chance. “Maybe she’s changed?” “She wouldn’t hurt me again.” “It’ll be different this time.” I would have been hopeful and optimistic about the possibility of our renewed friendship.
I don’t feel that way at all now that I am into my fifth year of deconditioning. When my Sacral says NO, that’s that. I’ve been experimenting long enough to trust that my sacral has NEVER led me astray. It’s when I listen to my mind that life becomes painful.
I’m not sure where I read or heard the following analogy, the comparison of a bank to the Sacral. I feel like maybe a friend of mine explained sacral energy to me in this way, but in the big picture, it doesn’t matter where I got it. I know that at the beginning of my deconditioning, it was a very helpful analogy.
Think of your sacral as a bank and sacral life-force energy as money. Who receives your money? Who gets $100? Who gets $1,000? When I started to think of my sacral energy in those terms, it became very easy to see where and with whom I would invest my energy, invest my time. Relationships are an investment.
As I’ve been deconditioning and experimenting, I have become very selective with whom I share my sacral energy. I have ended my relationship with friends and lovers through my sacral response. When I am around energy that is incorrect for me, I can feel it pull me off of my frequency. I enter all relationships via my sacral response, and they end in the same way, too.
Walking away from someone I care about is never easy. With Ni, my mind has latched on to the joyful times and conversations we had during our friendship. It wants me to give her another chance; my body tells me something else. My body is not interested.
After a week, she sends me another text, checking in with a message that is manipulative. No, she didn’t change. My body felt very relieved that I hadn’t responded to any of her text messages.
What amazes me is how my sacral response protects me. When my Sacral responds yes or no, it doesn’t always make sense at the time, but as long as I let my response guide me, everything seems to work out for the best. I can also see that listening to my body keeps me from those who are wanting to harm me in some way and brings those who care about my well-being even closer.
A couple of weeks ago, I received an email about a future speed dating event. I had a positive sacral response when I read it, so I signed up.
When the evening of the event arrived, my mind did not want to attend. It was having doubts. I watched my body get ready. I spritzed my favorite perfume, and out the door, I went.
After I had parked my car at the venue, I walked toward an elevator. I heard a small voice from across the parking structure to hold the elevator door open. As soon as she walked in, I could feel her energy was high. I figured she was one of the speed daters, too, but my mind was confused. She held a birthday gift bag.
I asked her what floor she needed to go to and she started laughing. She didn’t know. She was on her way to a “some weird dating event.” Oh, that’s where I’m headed, too. She explained to me that she had never done anything like this before and is going to meet a friend there. Aside from the speed dating, it’s her friend’s birthday and held up the gift bag. She asked me, Have you done this before? Yes, I have.
I’ve been to a speeding dating event before. Over a year ago. It was my first time. A friend of mine wanted to drive to Las Vegas at a moment’s notice, and I said, No. I didn’t have the energy for something like that. She suggested that we go to a speed dating event that evening instead. Speed dating as a consolation prize. NOW, that seemed interesting … never done that before. It turned out to be a lot of fun!
This time around, I was on my own.
As I walked into the venue, I felt at home. The event was being held at one of my favorite bars in Scottsdale. It’s like a Hollywood version of a jazz club … velvet and leather chairs, half circular plush booths, pillows on every seat, a dark wood floor and bar, and a small center stage with room to dance anywhere. Dark. Mysterious. And full of intrigue. I love super sexy spaces. I wonder if that’s a Heretic trait.
I ordered a glass of wine and headed over to Check-In. I laughed when I saw the table. I was assigned to Table #1. I chuckled. I’m usually first or thirteenth (Gate 7.5, Gate 13.5). Today, I was First. I don’t mind being first. In this case, it really didn’t matter; this wasn’t a follow me or not kind of situation (7/31 Channel of the Alpha, General).
As I settled into the bar with my drink, I watched all of my fellow speed daters. There was so much excitement and anticipation in the air. I watched everyone, wondering why I was really there. I thought it might be to practice responding. There’s nothing like responding in the moment to 12 to 15 men on 5-minute dates. LOL.
When it was time, I walked over to my Table #1 and sat down in a comfy, velvet, pillow-filled mini booth. My dates would be seated in a sleek leather chair off to my left side.
All the women sat at an assigned table. The men rotate, moving from table to table, every 5 minutes. Once the event begins, there are no scheduled breaks. This time I made sure I had a few beverages by my side … water, diet coke and a glass of wine, because talking for a couple of hours makes me very thirsty.
This time around, I had thirteen mini-dates. I met a variety of interesting men, well, as interesting as a person can get in 5 minutes. It was fascinating to hear what they shared with me. I had one guy ask me what I like to do for fun? I said the symphony, ballet, theater and before I could finish my response, he called me a snob and pointed his nose up. I laughed. He laughed, but his body language said he wasn’t joking. Then, I had another guy tell me how unsophisticated I am. I laughed as well. Yup. NOT for me!
What was interesting is that being at Table #1 was a conversational ice breaker. Most of the men couldn’t resist saying as they approached me, I found the one! The projection of being THE ONE. I’m NOT the one, in fact, I’m not for everyone, and I know that. I’m only here for very specific people. I just laughed every time I heard it.
Well, when my last date approached me, and he looked solemn. He sat down right next to me and in a serious voice, he said, I have some questions for you. I want your honest answer. Have you done this before? I nodded. How do women select the men on the speed dating website? Do they choose just a couple? More than that? What do they look for? Is every woman looking for a rich husband? Someone who lives close to their home? I think I live too far and no one wants to drive out that way, and I’m a teacher. I’m not rich.
OMG! I have been projected on in a major way. I’m always projected on, but this is the first time I felt the immediate directness of it.
This guy wanted me to answer for ALL WOMEN! WTF?! I told him that I had no idea. He said, Well, what would your friends do? I said that I have no idea what they would do. I’m not them, nor am I aware that any of my friends are looking for a rich husband or wife.
He wanted an answer from me as to why he’s only been selected three times in the five events he has attended. He said that at the last event no one even picked him and he knows because he selected YES to every female that went to the event.
Here’s the deal with speed dating. At check-in, all the women receive a card that lists all the male names and there’s a Yes or No after each name, along with a space to jot down notes. And, then, all the men have a card with all the female names. After each date, you circle either Yes or No. After the event, all the participants have 48 hours to login into the speed dating site and select Yes or No after each name. If you get a match, you will get the person’s email address so that you can contact the person for a future date.
So, back to my last-date of the evening, I told him that I can’t give him the answer that he’s looking for. Sure, there’s probably women looking for a rich husband, but I have no idea if people go speed dating to look for one. I tell him that I hear women talk about finding a wealthy husband at the bar or gym, but I’m NOT that type of person, so I have no idea what to tell you. I have dated all types.
He proceeded to tell me that he’s getting SMARTER about what to talk about in 5 minutes, like not disclosing his profession (special needs teacher) or where he lives (Buckeye, AZ which is a good distance outside of Phoenix). I told him that’s a shame that he feels that he can’t be himself. No one is worth pretending to be someone else. He nodded, but I could feel that he didn’t agree. His energy felt very confused and lonely to me.
We talked for about 20 minutes, but before we departed ways. I asked him, Why me? Why ask me all these questions? I wanted to know why he chose me. What was it about me that made him comfortable to ask? Oh, I know I’m an MG Heretic Investigator (5/1), but if he was capable of explaining, I wanted to know what he was seeing or feeling, someone who had no idea about Human Design.
He said that I looked like someone he could talk to and that my body looked open and not closed off. I looked “inviting.” He stated that he noticed I was friendly, and that I smile and laugh a lot. He felt that he could ask me those questions without being judged. He didn’t feel comfortable asking any other woman there.
HOLY SHIT! He described the Generator aura and my 5/1 profile. He invited my insight (Channel 43/23)! I’m the savior and I can listen (Gate 13.5: The Gate of the Listener, Savior). This is the first time I’ve ever been in a room full of strangers, and a person seeks me out for an answer. He was so sure I had the answer.
He wanted to see if I would participate in an experiment with him. I love experiments! I live an experiment. He asked that when I go back home, would I be willing to check YES to every male? He wanted to see how men select women. He would do the same, and we could email one another and compare notes. At the time, my mind thought that was a good idea, but when I got home and sat in front of my computer, I couldn’t do it. The idea made me feel sick to my stomach. I had a strong aversion to some of the men I met. I didn’t want them knowing anything about me.
As for all my dates, I responded YES to five of them. I had two matches, my last-date guy (so we can compare notes) and Guy #15. I had a lovely conversation with Guy #15. We were both disappointed we only had 5 minutes! We kept talking even as he was moving toward the next table.
Ha! As I was writing this post, Guy #15 just sent an email asking me out on a date. He said five minutes was too short! LOL. Totally!