My Inner Mystic

reflections and insight into my healing, transformation, and journey of the heart <3

Category Archives: loss

MANifesto: MAN MOST WANTED

Six years ago – June 27, 2009 – I got married. Though the relationship was long – nearly 10 years – the marriage was short, unraveling fast and then exploding 8 weeks or so later. For nearly six years, I have been a single woman.

My relationship ended in a giant “ka-boom.” I was devastated, hurt to my very core. The loss of my person was excruciating. I was in A LOT of emotional pain, pain that lasted day after day, month after month. The pain was tangible and felt like a brick was sitting on top of my heart. I remember having a thought that the pain could actually be measured – put a dip stick in my heart and draw it back out to see dark red blood all the way to the “full” line.

It took a full year to cycle through the pain, for the intensity of it to subside, for the grief to fade away.  That year came with other losses too.  My dad died nearly 7 months after the “ka-boom” and my best friend of 15 years, and also my maid of honor, “broke up” with me over email just weeks before the one year anniversary of the “ka-boom.”

At some point within that first year after my relationship ended I realized I was given a second chance to find lasting love, to have a truly happy and healthy relationship.  I still believe in this second chance.

Yet, as time has passed, the bar has been raised. The more I meet conscious, heart connected men, the more I see and know what I want is so very different from my past. I lacked a positive and healthy male model in my father. My relationship of nearly 10 years was with a man who also was not emotionally, mentally, or physically healthy and like both my mother and my father, he did not meet my emotional needs in a sustaining and healthful way. Today I am grateful to have many new healthy and conscious male (and female) models in my life.

Nearly six years later, I know what I am looking for and what I need in a partner.  I am looking for someone truly amazing – a new and lasting life partner, a partner who is healthy, skillful, and awake/awakening.

MANifesto: MAN MOST WANTED

Heart connected. ❤

Shares a commitment to healing, personal discovery, growth, inner exploration, expansion, transformation, awakening in relationship, and the soul quest.

Skillful – conscious and awake/awakening in communication and self-expression. Self-responsible. Responsive. Expresses feelings and needs and makes requests. Expresses appreciation and gratitude.

Empathetic – mirrors and reflects back my emotional experience and self-expression. 

Empowering – mirrors back my gifts.

Spiritual *and* spiritually open. Woo Woo.

Has a healthy relationship to self, along with healthy friendships and relationships. Values community.

Present. Spacious. Sensitive (both emotionally and energetically). Supportive. Patient. Thoughtful. Gentle.

Attentive.  Tender.

Upbeat. Vibrant. Charismatic.  Passionate.

Inquisitive. Open. Curious.

Smart. (maybe even Brilliant! 🙂 )

Fun. Funny. Adventurous. Playful. Silly *and* emotionally mature.

Chivalrous.

Outdoorsy. Loves and respects nature.

Enjoys travel.

Values education and learning.

Smells the roses. Looks up at the stars.

Healthful lifestyle loves to eat good food; devoted to physical activity and movement, such as yoga; not dependent on drugs or alcohol; ideally is not allergic to nuts and is gluten and dairy tolerant.

Financially responsible. Professionally stable. Motivated. Reliable. Clean/Tidy.

Handy – owns tools and knows how to use them; good at fixing things. Computer Savvy. Mechanically inclined.

A man of integrity.

Shares a desire to create life, to bring a little person into this world, and share the joy of raising this little being together.

Together we resonate and share a connection, a kinship, a consciousness. (and we laugh together, A LOT!)

Loves me, cherishes me, values me. Appreciates that I am unique, bright, intelligent, insightful, independent, curious, adventurous, playful, strong, spirited, sensitive, loyal, devoted, and simultaneously traditional *and* unconventional. Sees me. Gets me. Is jaZZed about me.

MANifesto

I offer up my MANifesto on this Gemini new moon to the Divine Intelligence that guides us in this life.

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A special shout out to my friend in consciousness, TimO, for being the inspiration for this MANifestO. We share space in our NVC (non-violent communication) community group and he expressed a strong desire to grow the number of men in our group to balance out gender dynamics. I started to craft a clever invitation, “Men Most Wanted,” to manifest men for our group. Men Most Wanted turned into “MAN Most Wanted,” my MANifesto. Thank you, Tim. I value you as a huMAN and as my friend.  May we both MANifest!

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Shedding Weight

No, I’m not talking about a new year’s diet to shed any extra pounds I might have accumulated in 2012.  No, what I’m talking about is shedding another kind of weight I carry in my body.

I spent my new year’s holiday at a week long yoga retreat in the jungle slopes of Mexico above the Pacific Ocean.

yoga pavilion

At the end of our morning yoga practice on New Year’s Eve day, our teacher invited us to devote part of the day reflecting on what we wanted to let go of from 2012.  She encouraged us to do some journaling, which I did.  In the space of the jungle canopy I didn’t come up with anything concrete.

At our afternoon practice, our teacher announced we’d have a New Year’s Eve bonfire on the beach. She told us to bring what we’d written, a statement or list of what we wanted to let go of.  We would offer this to the fire as an expression, an intention, of letting go.  I didn’t have anything written for the fire. *sigh* I hadn’t come up with anything concrete.

As I showered before dinner, I searched my mind.  What could I offer to the fire to represent something I wanted to let go of?  It struck me.  Heaviness.  I knew that I wanted to let go of the heaviness in my body.  I wanted to let go of the emotions, the pain and the wounds that are held deep in body and hinder my ability to feel freedom.  How would I express my heaviness?  A rock.  I decided I would put a rock into the fire.

As we gathered, my idea of putting a rock into the fire started to feel inadequate.  After all the fire wasn’t going to burn my rock.  The rock might get hot, but it would not combust and turn to ash.  I decided to expand my symbolic offering.  I turned to the slope above the beach and dug around in the undergrowth.  I grabbed a leaf, a fallen branch, and some kind of nut or seed.  As I grabbed these items, I knew what each would symbolize.  I could see in my mind’s eye the story my offering would tell.

new year's eve fire

Listless (literally, without a list), it was my turn to put my items into the fire, to let the fire consume what I wanted to let go of from 2012.  Kneeling before the fire, I made my offering, reciting silently.

To the fire I offer this leaf.  This leaf represents shedding.  To the fire I offer this rock.  This rock represents the heaviness, the weight, the emotional wounds I carry in my body.  May I shed this weight, may I be free from the hurt and pain of these wounds.  To the fire I offer this branch, the roots of the sky.  This branch, like the neural pathways of my mind, represents old ways of doing things, old ways of thinking.  I offer this branch to symbolize that I am letting go of old ways of doing and thinking that no longer serve me.  To the fire I offer this seed.  This seed represents the possibility for new growth to emerge in 2013.  May the fire burst this seed open and give it life.  May this seed grow and blossom and thrive.

So that was it, my beautiful and symbolic offering, one that felt very authentic to me.

Now that I’m back in Seattle I’m beginning to get a sense of what the rock is made of, its matter, its substance.  I think it hit me when a woman I work with told me she liked my earrings and I said, “Thanks.  They’re from a friend who is no longer a friend.”  There it was again, – the hurt that continues to come up in my dreams, continues to come up in conversations with my friends.  The rock’s matter is my hurt over this broken friendship, a hurt I’ve had a really hard time letting go of, a deep wound I’ve been carrying around, not just in 2012, but for over two years.

A few weeks before the one year anniversary of the ka-boom, my closest friend of 15 years, the first person I turned to in shock and anguish over the explosion of my relationship, effectively ended our friendship.  One day without any kind of fore-warning, she sent me an email and told me she was exhausted from the support she had extended to me.  She told me she needed a breather, time to recalibrate.  She told me that out of respect for her, not to contact her. I did contact her, just once.  I said over voice mail, “for the sake of our friendship, I think we need to talk.”  I expressed that I valued our friendship.  We never talked.  I have not heard from her since that last email nearly two and a half years ago.

The anger and the hurt have lessened, but I still carry the weight of this unresolved wound.  Like I said, it still comes up in dreams, in conversations.  I continue to wrestle with the lack of closure.  There was never any conversation, no opportunity to express my hurt, my outrage at being abandoned when I was still fragile, when I still needed support from my friends.

The severing of ties was one sided.  It felt as if the door had been shut in my face.  I was left with the disturbing feeling that I’d been broken up with.  My “friend’s” action to retreat, to remove herself from and effectively end our friendship felt and still feels very deliberate and intentional.  I think that is what has hurt the most – her actions have felt so deliberate.  My sense that my “friend” knowingly brought so much lasting hurt into my life by choosing to end our friendship has bothered me deeply for so very long.

No amount of comfort or consoling words has taken away the pain.  No amount of reflection, perspective, or insight has taken the soreness out of the wound.  After all this time, I have been unable to find a sense of wholeness, to fully mend the tear in my heart.  The anger and the hurt have dulled, but I continue to search inside for the closure I need to finally shed the weight of this wound.  I have learned this along the way:  deep wounds weigh the most.

And so out of this New Year’s Eve offering, not just to the fire, but to the Universe, comes an intention for 2013:  to find closure, to shed weight.

Celebrate! Words of the Season

words in the sand

Several weeks ago one of my yoga teachers announced the she was offering a 7 week “holiday bliss” yoga nidra series, with each week, or practice, focusing on one of the seven chakras.   Forever full of ideas and one who loves to plant seeds, I asked my teacher if she was also planning to pick a holiday word for each practice.

A woman in the class poo-pooed my idea.  I don’t remember her exact words, but whatever she said was very bah humbug, along the lines of “why celebrate the season?” Perhaps she was feeling put off by the commercialism of the season and how manufactured the holidays can feel.  Perhaps she was trying to articulate that not everyone celebrates the holidays.  Or perhaps she was speaking from a place of pain.  For many, the holidays can be a difficult time of year.  Wounds around loss are triggered. Whatever this woman was feeling on the inside, I get where she’s coming from.  I’ve been there.

A few months after my relationship ended, the holiday season arrived.  I wasn’t ready to celebrate.  It was much too painful.  I avoided all things holiday.  No tree, no presents, no cards, no cookies, no holiday music, no parties or celebrations.  I don’t remember why, but I found myself in the decorations aisle at a store a few weeks before Christmas and the pain was heart wrenching.  Cards, trees, ornaments, presents…all of this was a painful reminder of all the Christmases I had celebrated with “my person,” of how fun and special Christmas had been, and how that tradition had been “taken away” from me.  Looking back, I see that my words and feeling that something was “taken away” very clearly illustrates how victimized I felt.  But it’s ok that I felt that way.  I was in a lot of pain.  I was grieving.  I lost something and someone that was a huge part of my life and I needed to experience the fullness of that loss before I could start to heal and move forward into my new life.

A little over three years later (this is Christmas number four post ka-boom) and I still haven’t hauled out the ornaments and put up a tree.  (Putting a tree in a tree stand by oneself is a pretty difficult undertaking and I take such care in hanging ornaments that decorating the tree becomes quite a project).  I still haven’t sent out cards and I still haven’t done any gift giving, other than a few little things where I felt “obligated” to give gifts.  This year I *might* make some cookies.  That first Christmas post ka-boom I decided I wouldn’t celebrate Christmas again until I had a reason to celebrate.  And now I’ve sort of decided that I want to wait until I have someone special in my life with whom to share this season before I once again immerse myself in Christmas traditions and when I do, it might look different than my old life.

Honestly, it’s been good to have some time away from the holidays to get perspective and insight.  I’m not sad that I’m not immersed in the flurry.  For many, this season is a very stressful time of year and for me it’s nice to not have the extra stress of setting up and taking down a tree, shopping for gifts among the crowds, getting cards and packages sent off in the mail, all the parties, family gatherings, preparing holiday meals, and so on.  So much gets packed in within a span of a few weeks that there isn’t much time to relax and reflect and absorb the season and prepare oneself for the New Year.

My second Christmas after my relationship ended I began a new holiday tradition, a tradition of gift giving to oneself, of practicing self care.  I took myself to Costa Rica for a week long New Year’s yoga retreat.  Last year I returned, arriving on Christmas day.  I planned it that way.  I wanted to begin experiencing my Christmas present to myself on Christmas day.  I was greeted and welcomed with many a “Feliz Navidad.”  The simplicity of the expression and greeting was very meaningful, a true gift.  Oh, and the “Christmas” tree I discovered on the beach that was made of drift wood was pretty special too.

Feliz Navidad - Playa Guiones, Costa Rica

Feliz Navidad – Playa Guiones, Costa Rica

What a JOY to be re-united with yogis with whom I shared New Year’s the previous year.  In the beach community of Nosara, Costa Rica I found a new place to go “Home for the Holidays” and in the yoga community, I discovered a new family.  This year I’m headed to Mexico for the New Year to CELEBRATE with a new yoga family and experience the wonder of a new “home.”

In my time off from Christmas, I’ve re-invented the holidays for myself.  For me, this time of year has become an opportunity to give a very meaningful gift to myself – to be in community with like minded souls and develop new friendships, to clear my mind and rejuvenate, and to discover and set intentions for the upcoming year.  The holidays have become less about the hubbub and flurry of Christmas and more about the transition into the New Year, saying good-bye to the previous year and opening myself up to the New Year and all that awaits, allowing the momentum of the retreat experience to carry into the New Year.

To date my holiday retreats have been near the equator along the warm beaches of the Pacific Ocean and I’ve discovered that the sand is a great canvas for discovering what’s in my heart and the qualities and states of being I want to cultivate and manifest in my life.

2012 intentions

Looking back I see that for the last two years I captured words and images in the sand that are often associated with the holiday season.  Yet these words are not exclusive to Christmas or New Year’s.  These are powerful, affirming words that can be intentions we set and manifest in our lives every day of the year.  And if we make a practice of cultivating these qualities and states of being in our lives, we will transform our hearts and our lives and inspire the lives of those around us.  And isn’t that the most beautiful, empowering, and inspiring gift we can give ourselves and to others? to transform our hearts, allowing our being to be filled with pure, limitless LOVE that we can give to ourselves and to others?  I BELIEVE it is and so this holiday season I am gifting myself once again with a gift that will keep on giving.

CELEBRATE with me words of ALL seasons!

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HOPE photo provided courtesy of my friend and member of my Costa Rica yoga family, Heather.

The Death of a Relationship

On Friday, I attended a memorial service to honor the life and passing of a former co-worker’s husband.  Many people gathered.  Many people offered their condolences, sympathies, and words of support and comfort to this woman who lost her husband and life partner to sudden death.

The minister of the church gave a touching and empathetic homily.  The minister expressed directly to the grief stricken wife heartfelt sympathy, articulating that because of this sudden loss my former co-worker’s foundation has been shaken, her world has been turned upside down, her life has changed dramatically, in an instant.

As the day moved forward, I reflected back on the service, the gathering, the offerings of comfort and support.  Along with others, I stood in a long line to “pay respect” to the widow, my former co-worker, to offer her my sympathies.  Much like we gather in lines to congratulate newly married couples, we gather in lines to comfort the bereaved.  Our culture openly and outwardly acknowledges death and offers support to those left behind.

In my own life I experienced a loss just as devastating as death, in some ways more devastating than death.  When my relationship ended I remember saying, “it’s like a death but worse, because the person who hurt me keeps on living and breathing and walking on this earth.”  The loss of a relationship is a death.  It is the death of an intimate partnership.  What makes this loss potentially more devastating than death is when the person you loved, the person who was your trusted partner and friend and confidant, has not just ended the relationship, but has done so in a way that crushes you.

In most deaths, the person who dies does not do something that hurts you and shatters your heart, they do not leave you to make sense of the sudden and shocking ending.  Typically when a person dies, their death is innocent.  They have lived a long life and their time has come.  They have been terminally ill and died.  They were in a sudden accident.  They were a victim of war or some other tragedy.  The reasons for and causes of death are many, but in almost all deaths, there is not a deliberate and intentional choice to leave behind loved ones and end the relationship, an act that inflicts so much hurt.

When a relationship dies the bond that once existed is broken, the fabric that held the relationship together begins to unravel, or as in my case, is torn apart in one abrupt and gigantic motion.  The emotional support that was once there is yanked away.  Oftentimes the person who ends the relationship removes themselves from your life.  I distinctly remember feeling like I was being thrown out like garbage, that this person who one week, two weeks before had been my partner and closest friend, suddenly had no use for me.  It felt like I was chucked to the curb like an unwanted chair or piece of refuse.  The severing of the “ties that bind us” is incredibly painful and hard.  I recall reading somewhere that the pain one feels when a relationship ends is akin to having a limb severed.

Sadly, it seems many people do not see the end of a relationship as a death or understand the magnitude of this loss.  While many in our culture outwardly offer support to those who have lost someone in death, I found that many people are incredibly uncomfortable offering support or sympathy or even acknowledgment when your relationship has ended, when the person who was once in your life has left a huge vacant spot, when you have experienced a profound, heart shattering loss.

The death of a relationship makes many people uncomfortable.  It may be unfamiliar territory.  Maybe they have never experienced a loss like this before or had a shattered heart.  They may not know what to say to comfort you, other than empty platitudes like “time heals all wounds.”  Your loss, the devastation they see on your face and in your body might stir their own fears or anxieties about being left or abandoned.  Maybe your pain hits too close to home, is too similar to their own story; maybe they aren’t ready to be with and feel the pain of the wounds they carry.  Maybe they are “respecting your privacy” or is that just a cop out for “this makes me so uncomfortable I am staying as far away from your pain as possible.”?

What makes it so incredibly hard to go through the death of a relationship is when you do not have full support or acknowledgment from your outer circles, as was my experience.  There is no line of folks there to offer hugs and provide words of comfort and encouragement.  There is no homily where your minister expresses to you and all who are present that your foundation has been shaken, that your world has been turned upside down, even though it has!!!  And what makes it even harder, is the shame and humiliation you carry, that *I* carried.  It hurts like crazy, the grief is real and profound.  The magnitude of this loss and the emotional devastation is beyond measure.

What do I do with this awareness, this insight?  In my own life I have challenged myself to NOT be the person who remains silent because of discomfort or because my pain has been triggered OR says nothing because she doesn’t know what to say.  I may not always be the most elegant (or succinct) in expressing myself, but when someone shares a hurt with me or when I learn that something devastating has happened in their lives, I reach out, I acknowledge their pain.  I do this because I did not get nearly enough acknowledgement around the death of my relationship and because I know that acknowledgment is a tremendous gift, a gift that has the power to foster healing.  I challenge you to do the same, to remain present and acknowledge the pain of those in your inner and outer circles.

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In no way is it my intention to trivialize death or minimize the profound pain and sense of loss we experience when someone we love or who is important to us dies.  Death, no matter the circumstances, is hard and I recognize that some deaths, because of the ending, are harder than others.

Wings of Infinity

I hear them almost every time I step outside, nearly every time I go for a walk, even when I am on my bike.  I see them almost every day, sometimes I see more than one a day.  I am learning their spots, their favorite trees, their favorite branches.  I can spot them without hearing them first.  I have gotten close enough to look one in the eye.  I have told my friends I am becoming a hummingbird whisperer.

The prevalence of hummingbirds in my life and the fact that I have become so attuned to their presence is not just a coincidence, is not just a random occurrence.  It means something.  I have started to ask myself:  “What are they trying to tell me?  What message are they trying to deliver to me?”

I think about the times hummingbirds have appeared in my life and what their appearance might have meant on each of these days.  Perhaps the messages were different each time, but lately their frequent appearances makes me wonder if there is an overarching message and if their continuous presence is to remind me to keep searching for the answer, to keep seeking out the truth.

My first memory of seeing a hummingbird was some time after I moved to Seattle in my late twenties.  I was looking out my bedroom window and I saw a flash of color and spotted one feasting on the orange globe-like “flowers” of the bushy tree next door.  At the time, I lived near the Ballard Locks, and while out on a walk I saw a few hummingbirds darting along the slope below Sunset Hill Park.  A few years passed, I was in my early thirties now, and during a summer hike along the Tonga Ridge trail in the Cascades I witnessed a hummingbird extravaganza.  Hummingbirds at a high elevation?!  Such an unbelievable sight to behold.  The small, energetic birds flitted and hovered and circled in the tens and twenties around a vibrant fir tree.  In the chapters of my “old” life when my relationship was growing and deepening, long before the “ka-boom,” I learned the call and song of a hummingbird.  As I approached home, a hummingbird zipped past me and landed in a tree.  I paused and that day I heard the sound of the hummingbird’s voice, a voice that has stayed with me.

Looking back, remembering my early history with the hummingbird is part of my story, but their presence in my “new” life is most telling and revealing.  I saw a pair of hummingbirds dart overhead on the morning of my 35th birthday, just as I was about to depart for my first solo camping adventure.  I was practically hit in the forehead by a hummingbird the last day I spent time with that special someone.  I have shared my affinity for hummingbirds with him.  He also has a special kinship with this bird.  When he was a young boy a hummingbird came into his hand.  So special, so magical, an affirmation of his sweetness.  Last fall, I looked into the eye of a hummingbird while it perched on a branch of the tree in my front yard.

I believe the appearance and messages from these hummingbirds on these occasions meant different things.  Perhaps some days they were not delivering a message, but simply celebrating in my joy; perhaps the joy in my heart attracted these joyful birds.  Perhaps their appearance was meant to remind me to stay present.  I would like to think that the day I almost came forehead to pointy beak with a hummingbird that it was an omen of a budding and joyful relationship to come with that special someone, but unless this joy is delayed and the relationship exists at some point in the future, I am not so sure that was the message.  The message might have simply been:  “savor this moment; savor your time with him.”

Seeing a pair of hummingbirds zip by in harmony and unity is a very special gift, one of many gifts I received on my 35th birthday.  Often times when I see bird couples, it fills me with a sense of hope for my future.  Other times I feel sadness witnessing this loving partnership, something absent in my life today.  I would like to think that seeing two hummingbirds dart across the sky in partnership and celebration is an omen of a harmonious and loving partnership in my future, but I do not know for sure.  The message might be as simple as: “this is love occurring in nature as it should; we are meant to love and be loved.”

October 1, 2011, an auspicious date, is the day I looked a hummingbird in the eye. The previous day was very painful.  I received a “message” that the door had been closed on my fractured friendship with my friend of 15 years.  Hummingbirds are symbols of joy and celebration, but they can also deliver messages of healing.  A hummingbird’s vibrations inspire health and balance to be restored.  Was the hummingbird delivering a healing message on this day or was the hummingbird reminding me to see the beauty in this moment and also reminding me that despite my friend’s intentional and hurtful actions, that I am an incredibly beautiful person?  Yes, I lost a very good friend, my closest friend of many years, the most recent and one of many painful losses in my life, but my “friend” loses too.  She loses the opportunity to witness and participate in my growth, my transformation.  Despite the hurt she brought into my life, I will continue to grow and blossom and radiate beauty, I will continue to journey on this incredible journey of the heart.  I felt this in my heart as I held the hummingbird’s eye.

I am still trying to understand the grand message that the hummingbirds are delivering to me in 2012.  I think about my sadness, my longing for the one who touched my heart, this feeling of being stuck.  Is the sadness supposed to serve to motivate me to get past this, to seek out and manifest what my heart desires?  What is the ever present hummingbird telling me?  A hummingbird seeks out the nectar, the sweetness of life.  Is that what I am to do for myself?  A hummingbird is persistent and tireless.  Is the hummingbird reminding me to be patient?  Is the hummingbird there to remind me of my belief that he is worth it?  What about the nagging feeling I have that the stars may never line up for us?  Is the hummingbird there to tell me to listen to my intuition, a deep current of wisdom that resides within me, within all of us?  Is this nagging feeling coming from my intuition or from a place of fear and anxiety, from my emotional wounds?

I do not know the message the hummingbirds are trying, with such tenacity, to deliver to me, or if there is a grand, overarching message.  I need more time.  I need to be able to look back, just as a hummingbird does when it flies backwards.  Just this week I caught a glimmer of the message.  I spotted a hummingbird.  It rested on the branch of the tree I see it in day after day.  I stood still and listened and it started to sing.  I think it sang “remember the song in your heart.”  My framed Curly Girl quote, given to me by a dear friend for my 33rd birthday, just weeks after the “ka-boom,” flashed into my mind.  It reads:  “After all that – she was surprised to find that she still knew the words to the song in her heart. . . and she Began to sing along.”  If only I could hear my own song, my own voice, my voice from deep within, more clearly.

Today I saw a hummingbird zip across my backyard.  It landed on a bare, leafless part of a holly tree branch.  I opened my window to listen.  It did not sing, but it did flutter its wings – it flashed me with wings of infinity.

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I first learned the significance of hummingbirds from Miriam, a kooky lady I met on my first holiday trip to Costa Rica.  I was sharing an evening with my fellow yogis.  She delivered the message of a locust to one of the guys in our group.  I had been seeing quite a few hummingbirds in Costa Rica and I was curious, so I asked her what it meant to see a hummingbird.  Her answer:  “blessings, many blessings; a hummingbird has wings of infinity.”  I asked her how she knew this stuff.  She said, “I’ve always known and you know too.”  We continued to talk and something I said really struck her.  She paused and looked me deep in the eye and said, “You are very wise.” 

I am grateful to Miriam and many other spiritual souls who inspired my discovery of “my inner mystic.”