52 - Never in my life did I ever think I'd be delivering a message to a loved one from a ghost

   After work, I decided to give one of the succulent gardens I had designed, a hobby that I had picked up recently, to my friend, Nadine. She had been helping me through the loss of my son. She had lost a daughter almost a year earlier, so she knew exactly what I was going through. I texted or called her any hour, and she was there for me.  I walked up the steep wooden steps to my greenhouse, nestled partially in the oaks.
   The twelve 3X4 windows worked perfectly as walls.  I had talked the air conditioning installer at Pacoima Junior High to save a few for me instead of destroying them. Since Alan’s an architect, he easily threw together a design for the greenhouse.  I perused the wooden planks which served as a table. There were so many different succulent gardens in a variety of containers; it was a little overwhelming to decide which one to choose one for Nadine. The steamy heat reminded me it was the beginning of summer. The oak leaves scratched against the corner of the fiberglass roof. Often times I found the noise annoying maybe because the cloud of depression comes in waves. It’s been almost a year since Kyle passed away due to an overdose. My eyes zeroed in on a glass pot shaped like a star. I reached for it while thinking; this would be perfect for Nadine’s office.
   Suddenly, a voice popped into my head, “May you please choose the heart container? You can tell my mom the succulents are from you but that I chose the heart design to remind her how much I love her.”
    Whoa. I froze. No way, I thought as I swallowed and took a shallow breath and whispered, “Alice?” Tears welled up in my eyes.Alice used to help her mom, Nadine, in her acupuncture practice so immediately I recognized her soft sweet fairy voice.
   “Yes. Please tell my mom she has to let me go. I’m so happy now. It’s beautiful up here.”
    I promise I'll give her mom the heart-shaped pot and tell her the message. Of course, I didn’t tell Alice that I’d tell her mom the message once I got up enough nerve.
   “Thank you,” Alice replied.
    Heart, slow down, you’re okay. I mumbled to myself. I was freaking out that I was talking to a Spirit other than my son!  How the hell was I supposed to tell my girlfriend that her dead daughter gave me a message for her?  Nadine’s really going to think that I’m insane. But I didn’t make up that voice, it was definitely Alice’s.  There was no doubt.
   A few days later I set up an acupuncture appointment. Before following Nadine back into the room, I held out the succulent garden to her. I felt a heaviness in the room, Alice must be present in the office. Nadine took it. Then I thanked her for all her support and being there to listen to me blubber out my woes during the late nights and early mornings.  
    She smiled and told me that I was welcome and then said, “Thank you, it’s so beautiful.” But this strange quizzical look appeared on her face.  I couldn’t figure out if it was because I was acting awkward or because I had given her a heart-shaped pot.  Was she thinking I was confusing our friendship with something more?  I was afraid that might happen because the pot was in the shape of a heart. But I knew it was imperative to create the succulent garden in that specific heart-shaped glass candy jar as Alice had asked.
    Kyle popped in, or maybe he was always there, and I was too nervous to feel him.  Remember your promise, he whispered as if Nadine could hear him.
      I know, I just need a little time to figure out how I’m going to tell her without sounding crazy, I told him in my head. I couldn’t tell Nadine. I had felt like someone had poured a ton of cement in my mouth.   How was I going to say to her that her daughter had chosen that pot? How was I going to tell a mom that had lost her daughter a year earlier to an overdose, that she had spoken to me and had given me a message to give to her?
   Two weeks later I was driving to Arizona to visit my family when Alice popped in, “When are you going to tell my mom my message?”
   “ I promise  I’ll figure out how to tell her when I return to California.” Again, the wheels in my brain started churning. How am I going to tell her without me sounding crazy?  Ah, is that what I’m worried about, me? I wondered if Alice noticed my face turning red.
    “But you promised.” She sounded like a little girl, not the teen I remembered.
    “I know I promised. But Alice, this is an extraordinary situation.” I explained why I was wary. “Honest, I ’ll tell her once I return. Okay?”  There was silence.
    Driving the 7-hour trip back to California, I listened to Jason Marz and Cheryl Crow C.D.’s. to help the time pass.  I made it to Blythe before Kyle bounced in, “Heh, mom, when are you going to talk to Nadine?”
    I couldn’t believe that two spirits were bugging me.  I chuckled, because believe it or not; I thought it was funny. “I’m going to talk to Nadine next week, and if you ask me which day, I don’t know.”  I checked my rear view mirror and side mirror before I switched lanes, surprised to see Kyle sitting behind me, this time his body looked very solid, his face tranquil, something I hadn’t seen in a few years due to his struggle with schizophrenia and drugs. I fought back the tears.
   While I drove from Arizona to home, I kept rephrasing the words in my head about twenty times and then exasperated I said out loud, ”Why am I wasting my time? I’m not going to remember anything rehearsed, and I’ll be too nervous.”
   “Mom, just trust yourself and God will help you.”
   “Well, I pray he does, because I’m afraid I’m going to royally bumble a promise.”
   “Just trust,” Kyle voiced.
   I wondered where Kyle got the belief that God would help me.  I tried to teach him to trust in the Creator a few times when he’d be so worried about taking a test or when he’d free-fall through depression. Maybe heaven had changed his mind.
    Okay. Trust was a new concept for me. It somehow got buried under each incident of Kyle’s mental illness, car accidents, DUI’s, drug abuse and a daughter who had to escape from it all.  However, I felt it was time to dig the word up from under that pile of garbage, dust trust off, and place it back into my heart again.
   Two days after returning to California, I arrived at Nadine’s office at 7 pm, Tuesday night, that’s usually one of the days Nadine worked late. I was so scared.  Sentences floated around my head, the words jumbled.  I struggled, not sure exactly how I was going to say what Alice asked me to tell her mom.
     Nadine was preparing to leave. I  saw through the glass door that the lights were turned off except the desk light which illuminated the office.  I walked in, and I could see the surprise on her face. She held her car keys in her hand.  I took a deep breath and said, “For over a week I’ve had a message to give you.” I stuttered. This amazingly patient person gazed at me with her huge brown eyes while I fumbled for words, “I don’t know if you believe in the afterlife or not, and… and  I feel extremely awkward telling you this,” I swallowed as if that would give me courage. “I made a promise to your daughter…..”  and the rest of my words just fell like rain.  Like an idiot, I cried the whole time. I don't know if it was because I felt so awkward, or if it was because I was so happy for my girlfriend.
    I was sure Nadine was going to grab me by the collar and the waistband of my Capri jeans, pick me up, swing me a few times around her head and throw me through the glass door of her office. Yeah, I know she weighs about 90 pounds, but I’ve had her as a chiropractor, that little lady is amazingly strong. But, she didn’t.
    “I wondered why you had chosen that container shape to give to me, but I also wondered why you were so nervous. Those together confused me.” She explained with her Buddha-like calmness. She took two non-menacing steps towards me, with tears in her eyes, she gave me a heartfelt hug. She stepped back and studied me.  “I know my daughter is in a kinder place, but I’ve had a hard time letting her go. Thank you for giving me her message.” She smiled. “And I promise,  I’ll work on releasing  her.”
   As I dropped my trembling body into the seat of my Mini and slammed the door shut, I heard almost simultaneously, “Thanks, mom/Thank you, Tina.” Both Kyle and Alice said in unison.   I sucked in a breath and slowly expelled it, smiled and said, “You’re welcome.
   Is this what God expects of me, to give messages to loved ones from the other side?  I don't know what my new life will bring, but  I must admit it made me feel good to make someone understand that their loved one is doing just fine on the other side and all he or she wants is for them to be happy.

51 - Quick techniques to help you release depression and anxiety, perfect to teach kids

    One in six Americans takes some type of psychiatric drug on a regular basis— mostly antidepressants. (NBC News ) This high number certainly surprised me. What is happening in the United States? Do we have more stress than other countries? This statistic is from 2016. I’m frightened to look at an update.  It’s imperative that schools teach ways to relax which some are doing through Mindful techniques, but I also encourage meditation, (Blog # 7) for more long-term spiritual and healthy physical changes. We need to teach our children and ourselves how to relax and learn to use techniques to pull ourselves mentally back into our bodies. All too often doctors hand out prescriptions like candy instead of referring an individual to a therapist.  There are many different techniques that exist which will release past hurts and worries.  (Blog #6)

https://www.nbcnews.com/health/health-news/one-6-americans-take-antidepressants-other-psychiatric-drugs-n695141  

None of us like feeling depressed or anxious

   Depression and anxiety are caused from many things that you have experienced or are experiencing in your life.  Some of you become anxious due to the plethora of things you think needs to be done in one day, or maybe you have an extremely demanding job. Or possibly a memory of your childhood seeps in of your mother saying something mean to you.  Or maybe your child is nervous and fearful because there’s a test tomorrow.  I go to a Constellation Healing night every once in a while, and I’ve seen unbelievable things come up due to a mother having pregnancy problems to trans-generational issues; thus causing fear, turmoil, the feeling of being unwanted, etc.

   You don’t always have to go to a therapist’s office to work on an EMDR machine to diffuse these feelings; you can sometimes take care of the negative feeling at home. Of course, if your thoughts are controlling you so you can’t get anything done or you are thinking about hurting yourself, it is absolutely necessary to book an appointment with a professional therapist as soon as possible.

   However, you can simulate the EMDR machine with Bilateral Stimulation. When you or your child starts going into that negative space, tap on the bone underneath one eye and then the other.  Or pat your right leg a few times and then switch to the left. While you are doing either of these actions, think about what upset you while you are switching back and forth either tapping under your eye or tapping your leg. Continue to do this while you are thinking about what has upset you.  You will notice the rapid pace of your heartbeat and breathing will slow down.

   The right side of the brain is called the reptilian side.  It’s in charge of our survival; for our flight, fight or freeze responses, for sexual behaviors, anger in response to danger, and most of all – fear.  These actions take over without us thinking about it. It tries to protect us with these various reactions to danger.  Thank your brain for doing such a good job, but let it know it’s time to release this specific issue.

    By tapping/rubbing, you are switching your reaction from the right side of the brain, the emotional side, to the left which is the logical side of the brain.  Our body holds tons of memories in them, and our brain doesn’t know that the negative memory is an old one.   Remind yourself that the memory is old, the trauma isn’t there anymore and remind yourself that you are not that helpless little child anymore. Let that fear go.

More quick techniques various therapist have taught me to release negative emotions:

1.  Rub your right pant leg or your left one, notice how the texture feels. Keep doing this while your breathing slows down and your mind focuses on the present. Or you can tap your right shoulder with your left hand and then switch sides.

2.   You or your child can go into your yard, or a park and choose a small pebble.  I know this sounds crazy but ask the rock of you can take it for a little while so help you release your worries. (This is a technique that many Native Indians use.) You will hear a yes or no in your head. You are honoring nature when you do this.)

     Or go to a New Age store or an American Indian Store and you or your child can pick out a small crystal or rock that calls out to them. It must be small enough to fit into a pocket.  Write the name down of the rock or crystal and ask if they have a book so you can look at how it’s supposed to help heal. You’ll be surprised how the rock/crystal will relate to you or your child’s issues.

3.  Or go to an American Indian store or New Age Store will have fetishes or charms of small animals, birds or mammals. (The American Indian believes these fetishes help you and protect the person who carries it. Please don't think this is anti-Christian. God did make all the rocks, and crystal, didn't he? Think what you are buying for your child, something that makes him or her feel safe.

   I was drawn to the turtle. To each tribe, the turtle might depict something slightly different, but a recurring theme is of creation, protection, longevity. In addition to the Lakota, the turtle (ke-ya) spirit brings health and longevity, and it represents perseverance.

  When I start reacting, I hold my turtle. When I was young, many kids had a rabbit foot in their pocket. The smooth or rough texture will pull that brain back into your body.

   Wouldn’t it be magical to give something to your children which provides them with a bit of control over their life?

*Once you pull this site up, look at the margin on the right and check out programs to download on your iPhone or Android to aid in Anxiety Release

https://anxietyreleaseapp.com/what-is-bilateral-stimulation/

50 - I was surprized how quickly our young children picked up the bad habit of cussing

   Sometimes I get soooooo depressed, and I wonder, was I that bad of a parent? How can all this shit have happened to me? A friend shared, “God only gives you what you can handle.” Really? Am I handling all this crap? Yes, I’ve accepted that my son is finally at peace up in heaven, but why can’t I have a relationship with my daughter? We used to be so close. After I blow my nose and sniffle away a few more tears, I pull myself together and remember some of the funny times we had as a family.

   I used to have a horrible temper so when Alan did or said something wrong, I’d become furious with him. And, of course, as was typical in those days, a string of nonsensical obscenities would embellish the tense air. My anger used to be horrendous. In a calm voice, he would attempt to settle me down, trying to explain the situation without saying one negative comment. I don’t know how he handled my rage. His favorite phrase, “You do know you have a sailor’s mouth.”

   “No, I have my dad’s Air Force mouth,” I replied, sounding as if I was proud of it.

    Now that I was pregnant with our first, Alan reminded me one evening over homemade enchiladas, “You better watch the way you talk, or our child’s going to learn that military vocabulary.” I chuckled knowing full well that he was right. Alan rarely cussed. Somehow years later, he cusses every once in a while because he learned that behavior from me.

   It was Winter Break, A.K.A. Christmas vacation, so I rushed home after school and Alan, and I packed the car quickly. We were on our way to Arizona to spend Christmas with my family. Alan drove too fast as usual, and Kyle happily sat in his car seat in the back seat humming to himself.

   “So. Moe. Doe. Low. Go.” Our three year old said in a steady rhythm.

    Alan glanced over at me and smiled. “He’s learned how to rhyme.”

   “Yup, we have a smart kid. I guess he learned that from…” I was interrupted. The rhymes changed.

  “Duck. Luck. Guck. Suck. “Alan and I glanced at each other worried. “Fuck.”

  “What do we do?” Alan asked.

  I wedged an old map in the window, blocking the late afternoon sun. “Ignore it because if we make a big deal out of it, he’ll repeat it again just to get attention. How about if we give him another word?”

   Alan shifted in the car seat and shook his head, “I don’t know.”

   I turned around to look at our tow-headed three-year-old. “Kyle, can you rhyme with ‘me’?” Instantly, Kyle bought into the game for a whole 2 minutes until he became bored, soon drifting off to sleep.

   Spending time with our family in Arizona is extremely special for us, especially during the Christmas season. Luckily, Kyle decided not to show off his new rhyming game. After four days we drove home and decided to drop off at Vons Grocery Store because our refrigerator was bare. We stood in line at the checkout unloading our groceries from either side of the cart while Kyle sat patiently in the kid seat. I grabbed the box of Raisin Bran and the box of Triscuit Crackers when I hear, “You fucking asshole.”

   Alan and my head boinged up like two Pointers, our eyes must have looked as if we had witnessed a murder.  “What do we do?” Alan asked.

  “I don’t know.” I glanced at the line behind us, and everyone had faced the other way so we wouldn’t see them laughing their heads off. Kyle was sure to do this again because he could see that everyone was laughing. I knew I had to do something so I slapped him lightly on the cheek.

   He cried out, “That hurts,” but he didn’t cry. I think he would have but he knew he had made people laugh and that seemed to satisfy him.

  “We don’t say things like that.” I scolded.

  “But you do,” Kyle quipped back.

   Alan gave me, ‘I told you so look,’ and we finished paying for our groceries. Once we were in the car, I explained to Kyle that when I lose my temper, I do cuss sometimes, but I’m not supposed to say those bad words either. I asked if he could catch me when I say them and I would help him. He nodded his head.

   Kyle still would cuss horribly when he was frustrated. And even though I was still guilty about losing it with my husband and cussing instead of explaining how I felt, I had become better. Honest. But obviously, not good enough.

   Five years later I was readying for church when our two-year-old curly-headed daughter, Nicole, walked into our walk-in closet while I was choosing a pair of shoes. Alan pulled his black dress jacket off the hanger and walked out. Nicole held her fluffy beige bear up to me as if she wanted me to take it and said, “Look at the haiya on this fukin’ beya.” You have no idea how hard it was for me to not burst out laughing. Her high little voice and her problem with her ‘r’s made her sentence sound even more precious.

   “Nicole, you don’t say words like that.” She looked up at me innocently as if she didn’t know what I was talking about. I gave her a hug. “I love you, but no bad words,” I said while wagging my finger on the last three words of my sentence. She smiled like a little angel and walked off hugging her bear.

   Alan yelled from the bedroom, “What happened?” I told him. “She learned that from you and Kyle.”

  I walked out of the closet. “Alan, I’ve gotten a lot better.”

   He placed his arms around my waist, “I love you, but you still cuss too much.” His bristly mustache tickled the top of my forehead.

   “I’ll try harder, and I’ll talk to Kyle.” He kissed me, and we finished helping the kids get ready for church. Later, I spoke to Kyle about the responsibilities of being a big brother and that he had to especially be careful with what he said around his sister because she was learning some bad words. He promised that he would really try, but that it would be hard because when he got mad he didn’t know what to say.

   An episode from a “Bill Cosby Show” appeared in my mind’s eye. Cosby played a basketball coach, and his team was about to get disqualified because of all the cursing while competing against other high schools. The coach taught the students to say, ‘fudgesicle’ or ‘ham hocks ’instead of cuss words. I shared with Kyle some of the words and the lesson from the sitcom. He chuckled and agreed to try and create his own words.  We had fun trying to come up with a creative word when we would get mad. I wished I would have written some of them down. He rarely cussed at all and I became much better about not cursing.

    I think a better tool would have been to ask Kyle to explain how he felt physically and emotionally when he became angry and ask him what made him upset. If your child is young, ask him if his stomach is tight, or if he feels like crying or hitting something. My therapist taught me when I start becoming upset to count odds or evens, or count backward (a young child could just count) or name favorite colors. Another exercise is a karate chop the tissue between the thumb and pointing finger. This switches your reaction/depression from the right side of the brain, the reptilian side, the survival side to the left, which is our logical side. These exercises help the person to get out of their head and back to feeling calm.

   Everyone in the family needs to learn to express themselves and all need to honor their feelings. Sometimes the other person doesn’t even know that they said something hurtful. This opens up for an apology and diffuses future reactions. Also, when we express our feeling, things don’t build up, and then someone blows up or shuts down.

   Our daughter held onto her feelings and began to have Fibromyalgia, a debilitating problem where pain moves around the body and tiredness takes over. I believe this occurred because Kyle took so much energy from us and because Alan would react. Also, in all honesty, we were not very good at teaching our children to express their feelings, and when I tried, Nicole had already had shut down.  I'm sure also when she was young she unconsciously didn’t want to bother us with her needs and feelings.

  Learning to express feelings is a lesson you will use your whole life. Your family and your loved ones will stay mentally and physically healthy. Get online and print up a FEELING Chart so everyone will have a vocabulary to use.   

   The ‘wikihow’ site is an excellent place with pictures you can show your children and read about how to handle anger. Also, it’s a useful place for adults to remind ourselves what we should do when we get mad.  It’s too easy to react with yelling, cussing or hitting your child or the walls which were the norm for my father.

 https://www.wikihow.com/Express-Anger-Without-Hurting-People

49 -If I could have taught anything to my kids, I would have taught them how to protect themselves from negative energy

   How many of you have heard of an empath? I don’t think I had until my children were out of the house.  I had taken quite a few healing classes but didn’t learn about it until I took an advanced Reiki class.  It was one of those wow moments because it explained so many things. I was a kid who could feel people’s physical pain and their mental anguish so many times Iwould feel overwhelmed.  I still to this day remember touching a stranger’s back while we were finding our seats on a plane and she turned around and gave me an annoyed look. My mom got after me.  I was too young to explain that the individual’s back was in pain, but I remember that was what I was feeling.  When I was at school, I would get upset or anxious and not understand why. Now I wonder if it was becasue I was puling in other kid's energy.

    Only within the last  eight years did I realized that my own children were empaths. When Nicole was a toddler, she reacted to the noises in the parking lot by scrambling up my body and screaming bloody murder. The sound of an ambulance siren brought frozen fear to her face. One evening before going to bed,  Nicole cried, and I found it difficult to soothe her. My little three-year-old couldn’t go to sleep again, this time because she was upset that the dolphins were dying in the ocean because of all the garbage in it.  I could feel the sorrow that she felt in her sad voice. She felt for those sick and dead dolphins.  (She had learned that piece of info at the Montessori.  Yes, I spoke to the teacher about the kids being too young to have to worry about things like that quite yet.) We constantly had to be aware of what Kyle was watching which a parent should do anyway, but Nicole was so sensitive that she would pick up the energy from the actors and then get upset.

   In junior high, she developed Fibromyalgia. Pain bounced around to different areas, and she had a difficult time falling asleep. She was out of school a lot, but a few timnes we'd  forced her to go  and she walked around like a zombie. We felt bad but we didn't know what to do.  Empaths tend to become ill or tired more often than most people. This is because their body sucks in other’s physical or mental issues, but many times they don’t realize it.  When this energy builds up, it can manifest into anxiety, depression, lethargy or an illness.  I’m sure Nicole’s body was unconsciously trying to heal her messed up family. 

   Kyle was an empath also.  We couldn’t go shopping for any longer than an hour when he was little because Kyle would start screaming as he pulled in everyone’s energy. We knew what was happening because I did it too. I was always exhausted in crowds.  Alan finally got an idea one day while we were visiting Disneyland.  I had morphed into a bitch. (That’s what happens to me when I’m around a crowd or in shopping malls- I feel like someone stuck my finger into an electrical socket. I can’t think. I’m on overload.) Or maybe Kyle was freaking out that day.  I can’t remember.  Alan took us to a quiet corner so we could regroup for fifteen minutes.  I meditated. That’s all we needed, and then we were ready for some more fun.

    I realize now that I’m an empath.  I often times felt sorry for my children, so this stopped me from disciplining or made me inconsistent. I didn't know how to protect myself. You can empathize with your child about them how they feel,  but you still need to be able to emotionally separate yourself from the situation by seesing some type of barrier between you and your child or by cutting the cord from your belly button to theirs. (Blog #43)

    I know that being an empath is a pain in the butt sometimes, but it’s a precious gift. You or your child have to know how to protect yourself and how to clear the energy when you feel it building up and clear it off before going to bed.  (I’m over 60, so this still has not become a habit.)  It is a gift where you can help many, but you can set boundaries when you don’t want to heal. In other words, tell your body that you don't want to heal that person or you don't want to heal that day. I often wonder how many alcoholics or drug users are empaths.  They feel so much, so they drown their pain.

    Now that I have taken more healing classes, my body is even more open to healing anyone and everyone.  The problem, sometimes it’s not a good time. Once I was walking across the street in downtown Chicago, and Alan was walking about a yard in front of me.  Whack! I stopped in the middle of the crosswalk, stunned with darkness and nausea. I couldn’t move. I felt Alan’s hand on my arm pulling me to the nearby sidewalk and close to a building out of everyone’s way. “Tina, did you remember to protect yourself this morning?”  His face and voice were  filled with worry.

    At first, I couldn’t answer. I felt so sick, and my head spun.  Finally, I told him, “No.”  Immediately, I scooped away the negative energy and threw it away, not carrying if a pedestrian saw me. Then as I placed protection around me, I perused the crowd wondering who I had just healed.  I had no ideas.  We continued our site seeing while I tried to explain what had just happened.

Visualize any type of wall

SURVIVAL TECHNIQUES:  

1.  Start from the toes and go up to hips and scoop energy up to sky-throw it away. Then coonitune from hip to head and throw it away. I blow out and make a whistling sound as I scoop and then when I throw the energy up to the sky, I make a swooshing sound. 

2. Visualize a protective wall around you or if you like, think of it as a shield

    If you are a sensitive individual or an empath, or have a child who is, create a wall around yourself or teach your child to. This will block out the toxic energy.  Begin by taking a few deep, long breaths. Visualize a beautiful white sparkly light surrounding you, or I told my students to see anything they feel safe with protecting them. It could be snakes, walls…for little children may be their favorite teddy bear multiples all around them.  Call on that wall regularly during the day.

   The second you feel uncomfortable with a person, place, or situation, take a few nice deep breaths and visualize that wall. Especially teach yourself and your children to use it anytime they’re going to be around a lot of people or if they know that they will be with someone who tends to suck their energy from them. You should feel grounded (focused and happy) and energized, yet still able to feel the beautiful world around you.

2.  Techniques to prevent an overload

    If you start feeling negative energy or unfocused, scoop away with your hands the slop that is around you or see yourself scooping it away. I mentally tell the garbage to go away, that I don’t want it. It’s important to recognize that the negative feelings or physical energy you or your child is taking on is not yours.  Notice where you are if your child is starting to act up. Ask what he or she is feeling. Are you at a restaurant?  Maybe she is pulling in someone’s energy.  You must teach her to slow down and notice that this energy is not hers. You are giving your children a tremendous gift if you can teach them this now. Then remember, have her remove the harmful energy and place another protective wall around herself.

   Ways to reground yourself and release negative energy:  Inhale lavender essential oil or place a few drops between your eyebrows (on your third eye) to calm yourself. When you are able to spend time in nature, take a walk or a hike. I can’t believe how many psyches have told me I must go outside and hug a tree. It regrounds me immediately. Balance your alone time with people time. For me, time management is key to my sanity. In my personal life, I don’t plan too many things in one day, or I get overloaded.  Do not feel obliged to go out with others if you are mentally or physically exhausted.  (I’m guilty about doing this.)

3.  Express Your Needs

 Do you need me time, or to walk alone, or to alone? Do you need to play music or dance with your partner?  If you feel crooked  or you notice your child feels out of sorts, ask her how she feels and what she needs. This will make everyone aware of their body and their feelings. If you or your child’s needs are not met, anxiety or exhaustion usually occurs.  This simple life lesson is important.

4. Set Energetic Boundaries at Work & at Home

Many times the workplace or classroom can be noisy and over-stimulating. To protect yourself, surround the outer edge of your space with plants or family or pet photos. This will create a small psychological barrier. Even small statues of Buddha, Quan Yin, crystals, stones, feathers, etc. will protect you from negative energy.  The last few years I taught school,  I unconsciously placed a Buddha fountain on my desk, rocks and feathers behind me on my bookcase. I just did it becasue I was drawn to these items. I never thought about the items protecting me.

Don’t be afraid to say, “No.” if you don’t want to do something.  And don’t feel guilty for saying it. (I was notorious for feeling I always had to say yes.)   Set clear limits with energy vampires and toxic people.

I decide when I want to see anyone, especially if I know they tend to drain me.  No guilt anymore.

Sites for further reading about empaths:

https://www.thoughtco.com/traits-of-empaths-1724671

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-empaths-survival-guide/201706/the-differences-between-highly-sensitive-people-and-empaths

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/emotional-freedom/201602/10-traits-empathic-people-share

http://www.empathtest.com/

Sites to check to see if you or your child is an empath:   There are tons of sites.

https://theknowing1.wordpress.com/traits-of-an-empath/

https://karlamclaren.com/2014/07/21/are-you-an-empath/

https://exemplore.com/paranormal/Psychism--7-Signs-Youre-an-Empath

48 - Cursive writing helps kids: memorize faster, improve motorskills, stimulates part of brain linked to reading, etc.

Cursive helps students memorize material faster and activates parts of the brain that lead to increased language fluency.

   I know it sounds mean, but I required all my students to write in cursive unless they had some type of disability which made it difficult for them.  I was so mean that I minused points from their grade if they didn’t write in cursive, or I gave extra credit points. Constantly I thought about throwing out

this lesson, tired of my students' grumbling,  that other teachers allowed them to print. But my

perseverance was reinforced when a parent talked to me at a Parent Conference. He was ecstatic that I not only taught but reinforced the necessity of using cursive. 

   He was a professor at California State Northridge University and shared that he found that over the

years more students were coming into his classes trying to take notes by printing. Yes, some came in

with laptops, but not many. (In the late 80’s)  He found that the students who used cursive took notes faster because they didn’t have to pick up their pen as often as those who printed. They constantly asked for him to repeat the info, therefore, slowing the lesson down tremendously. He asked me to speak to the English teachers at Pacoima Junior High in which I did. 

    Did you know that almost half the states do not require teaching cursive mandatory and yet there’s

tons of research to prove that it not only does one memorize faster, but the act of cursive relaxes them. Why should we teach this outdated writing to our children when they use computers and phones to look up information or to write to friends? 

Reasons to Teach Your Child Cursive:

1.  Cursive writing helps develop your child’s fine motor skills.  Rand Nelson of Peterson Directed Handwriting believes that when children use cursive, changes occur in their brains that allow a child to overcome challenges with motor skills. Using cursive gives the child a natural way to train these fine motor skills. He believes that the act of physically gripping a pen or pencil and practicing the swirls, curls and connections of cursive handwriting activates parts of the brain that lead to increased language fluency.

    Moreover, cursive handwriting stimulates brain synapses and synchronicity (working together) between the left and right hemispheres, something absent from printing, typing or keyboarding.

   http://davidsortino.blogs.pressdemocrat.com/10221/brain-research-and-cursive-writing/          material below      

2.  Research shows that handwriting stimulates parts of the brain linked to learning to read.   The thinking level is increased when writing cursive because the hand-eye coordination varies for every single letter. This action makes it more demanding than making single strokes as in letters like A, E, F, H, etc.  Also, since cursive letters are different than printed letters, children usually read more easily, especially dyslexics.  And many transpose some of those similar looking letters less.  https://education.cu-portland.edu

   “Handwriting dynamically engages widespread areas of both cerebral hemispheres. Virginia Berninger, a researcher and professor of educational psychology at the University of Washington, says that brain scans during handwriting show activation of massive regions of the brain involved in thinking, language, and working memory.”  https://education.cu-portland.edu

   Research has shown that handwriting stimulates parts of the brain linked to learning to read.

3.  At Indiana University  Professor Karin James of psychology found that college students remembered information better when they wrote it in cursive, compared to when they printed or typed it.

     One reason for improved memory is that writing things down is slow. Therefore, it’s impossible to write down every word a teacher utters. The student has to mentally engage in the material and summarize it, or paraphrase or write down keywords or questions.  As a result, you are already starting to memorize the material. When students were given a full week to study the material, the laptop users did worse on the test than the handwritten note takers.

   The College Board found that students who wrote in cursive for the essay portion of the SAT scored slightly higher than those who printed.  Experts believe this is due to the speed and efficiency of writing in cursive, so the students focused on the unification of ideas in their essays due to the flow of the connected cursive strokes.

4.   Although cursive may be difficult for those with dysgraphia or dyslexia, educators have learned it is an excellent exercise to develop kinesthetic skills. Both Montessori and Waldorf schools use handwriting as part of their curriculum for its kinesthetic benefits. According to Rand Nelson of Peterson Directed Handwriting, exposure to cursive writing allows a child to overcome motor challenges. Gripping a pen and practicing cursive with its swirls and connections “activates parts of the brain that lead to increased language fluency.”

5.  Many educators have noticed a calming in the classroom when students start writing in cursive.

     When Alan and I visited Japan and stayed overnight in the temple for fun, one of their activities was writing a prayer in cursive with a calligraphy pen.  I had meditated for years and recognized that my body was doing the same thing: my breathing slowed down, and every muscle in my body relaxed.  I was pleasantly surprised. 

6.  Teaching cursive to your child helps children with behavioral or sensory processing disorders.

7.  Cursive keeps our brains active as we age. Keeping the brain busy lowers the rate of cognitive decline. Handwriting is a good cognitive exercise for those who wish to keep their minds sharp.

   So if all these statistics support the need to teach cursive, why is it not being taught in elementary schools anymore?  I guess becasue it 's not needed to raisae state test scores. Opps, did I say that?

47 - If there's alcoholism, drug abuse, constant arguing going on, or a child's behavior has drastically changed, it's imperative to get help

 Nicole - pre teen

Nicole had helped me out at a drama event at our school.

..

   Nicole used to share the exciting things that happened at school and the problems her friends and families were experiencing. She even used to share her feelings and what she thought about certain situations. In fact, I remember a couple of her friends in middle school telling her they wished they had a relationship like ours. That made me feel good. But slowly, once middle school hit, Nicole stopped telling me as much. And by high school, I couldn’t even get a response about how she felt about anything. Sometimes, a shrug was her answer. Yes, I knew some of her behavior was typical of a teenager, but her inability to share her feelings was strange.

   By 7th grade, our beautiful, creative, highly gifted daughter, who had a slightly warped sense of humor like my mother, slowly started disappearing behind a curtain of fog.  Sometimes, I observed that she stared at nothing, which I chalked up to being a teen.  But what was strange, at times, is that I felt that she wasn’t in the room with us. She’d stop blinking and stared into “Never Never Land.’ That worried me. I asked what was happening a couple of times, but I usually got a shrug or “I’m just thinking about school.” And believe it or not, I believed her.  As she got older, she shut down even more.

    I guess with all the stress of teaching drama and struggling to keep Kyle, my son,  and Alan, his father, from killing each other, I didn’t see that my daughter needed professional help. (And we as a family needed family counseling. Alan and Kyle's three visits to a counselor did wonders for about three months, and then they forgot how to respect each other again. I thought I could fix her by being vigilant. She must have thought me claustrophobic at times.  Alan and I took her to plays without Kyle,  thinking that would draw her into the family more. A brrrng of a school bell should have sounded in my dense brain, but I couldn’t slow myself down to see or hear that she needed professional help. 

    Anytime you notice that your child’s personality has changed, you need to first talk to your son or daughter to see if there’s any bullying or if he or she is having difficulties with a class or with friends. But most of all, you need to slow your energy down, take a few gentle deep breaths, and ask yourself if anything has changed at home.  I should have called the teachers to let them know we had difficulties in the house. I think the roller coaster in our house had become the norm for my husbands and I. Don’t do what I did. Don’t think you can fix it.  

   I can’t tell you how many times a year I would have to call a parent to see what had changed at home or pull a student aside to ask him/her the same question.  We, as adults, feel like kids are as tough as we are, but they’re not. They’re just kids. They usually don't have the vocabulary to share how they feel. If there are marriage difficulties, if one individual has any type of health or emotional issues, or if there is drug or alcohol abuse in the household, which Kyle did have. It affects the entire family. The child picks up on this tension even if a parent has lost a job. 

     Call the counselor at school to let them know what the issues are at home and ask them to write a note to each teacher to let them know and ask them to call you back. You need to know how they are doing in class and if their behavior has changed. Maybe a weekly report needs to be filled out. This allows the teacher to give your child more attention and to be vigilant about helping the child get the homework in, then you need to ask for that Daily Report. If you don't receive it, there needs to be consequences. That means even calling th teacher.  If a teacher doesn't call you within a week, call the counselor again and leave a message or make a personal appointment with the teacher.   

   Also, ask the counselor if there’s any counseling at the school or if they could recommend individual or family counseling outside of school. If you can’t afford to pay for a therapist, ask if she knows one with lower rates. Then call and make an appointment. Be vigilant.

   Do not let your child refuse to go.  We listened to the Nicole's therapist, who said, "Our philosophy is that we can’t make the kids go to counseling if they don’t want to.”  Bull!  We listened and didn’t make our daughter go to counseling after an incident occurred when she was in 7th grade. 

    We hadn’t heard Nicole's voice or seen her for over 11 years.  I always wondered what would have happened if she had started seeing a counselor. Would that have opened her up to talk to us? Would that have catapulted us forward to recognize that the whole family also needed to be in therapy?  Who knows.  But please, don't wait; just because the problem subsides does not mean the trauma has disappeared from the memory or the body. It has to get unstuck, or it will return. (By the way, she did start going to therapy, and so did I, religiously and finally my husband. 12 years later, we have a wonderful relationship with our daughter.)

46 - Kyle's spirit got me up in the morning for work and tried to help get his dad out of depression

      I think Kyle was in 8th grade in this photo.  It's amazing when you worry about someone so
much how that fear can still showup in a dream even when the person has passed away.

From my journal entry     -      June 8, 2011

     The only reason I arrived at work on time every day after Kyle passed away was due to Kyle.  He made it his job.  His voice would pop into my fuzzy brain at first very softly, “Mom."  I’d usually pulled the quilt up over my head in hopes he’d disappear.  He’d wait a few minutes, "It’s time to get up.”Sometimes I’d cover my head with my pillow, sure I could silence his voice. But he'd call out my name again, but louder.  By the fourth time, his voice would jump in, intense, “Mom, you have to get up now, or you’ll be late for school!”  Finally, I’d crawl out of bed and get dressed.  I had stopped using the alarm clock because I’d turn it off and attempt to go back to sleep, but Kyle never allowed me to.  I think he felt guilty that he had caused the catatonic state that I was in, so he felt it his responsibility to wake me up. My ghost alarm got me up for work for  a year.

    One day, a  few of my teacher friends had made comments about how surprised they were that I made it to school every day, let alone on time. I told them why. One teacher definitely had a Yea, right look on her face, but the other one shared that her grandmother used to talk to her when she was little, so she could easily believe that Kyle was waking me up. Of course, that opened up the comfort door for me thus I shared that the previous morning I was so depressed that I almost turned around to walk back towards the office to ask the secretary to call in a sub for the full day. But on my way to my classroom, Kyle popped in standing on one of the tree branches in the quad at Canoga High School.  He had a leprechaun hat on his head and a long thin black pipe in his mouth.  His leg was frozen in mid-air like he had been dancing an Irish jig.  At first, I thought I was daydreaming, but I blinked a few times. He was still there with a big smirk on his face. This bubbly laugh tickled my ears.  Then, zap!  He was gone.  I admitted to my fellow teachers that sometimes I felt I was making these apparitions up because I missed our 22-year-old son so badly. But why would I create such strange visions? I never had done that when my brother passed away. Kyle many times would say funny things to make us laugh when he was alive, so I could easily believe the visuals were coming from him. 

    My fellow teacher smiled and guaranteed me that I wasn’t going crazy. She suggested that I read Hello from Heaven, by Bill and Judith Guggenheim, so I did.  I was astounded how many ways a loved one who has passed to the other side could communicate to the living: dreams, lights going on and off, a favorite type of bird or animal flies by or walks close by, or a favorite song plays on the radio, and the list goes on.   I also learned from the book that I could ask the spirit of a loved one to come and verify to the living that he/she is okay.  Since there is no time in heaven, the spirit might give the message way in the future, or the person who is supposed to receive the message isn’t there to receive it. So you must give the date and time that you would like your loved one to talk to you. (I used this technique to call Kyle in when I had a group of his friends over. That will be a future story.)

    It was well over a year since Kyle passed. I drastically wanted Alan to know that he would not  have to sign me into the nearest sanitarium.  He balked at manystories in regards to my experiences with Kyle. But I didn’t know how I was going to prove to him that those who have passed on still can communicate with their loved ones. Repeatedly I had asked Kyle to appear to his dad or talk to him, but Kyle told me that he had tried, but his dad ignored him. I even begged Kyle to talk to Nicole and ask her for our forgiveness, but he said the same thing, she ignored him. Finally, I begged Kyle to do something so his dad would know he’s okay.  “Your dad needs another reminder that you’re still around.  He seems more depressed lately. Also, he’s listening to one of his sisters who told him that I need to stop talking to you so I can move on.  Now, your dad feels very uneasy about me talking to you, so I rarely tell him anything anymore.”  Kyle promised that he’d think of something.

    A few days later, Alan walked downstairs to the kitchen and said excitedly, “You’re not going to believe this, but Kyle came to me in a dream. He called me on the phone and said,  ‘Hi dad, I’m okay.  I’m far away.’  I heard the noise of a car and got scared, so I asked, 'You aren’t driving are you?' and immediately he hung up.”

   In disbelief, I demanded, “Why did you ask that? No wonder he hung up.”  Those two used to get into horrible fights about Kyle’s crazy accidents.

    “Come on, Tina, it was a dream. The first thing that I thought of was that my son was going to get into another car accident. I was worried about him.” I softened and walked over to Alan and hugged him realizing his love was so strong for his son that his worry even carried into the dream state.  I apologized for my harsh voice as I wiped away a tear that rolled down my cheek.    

   Later, I thanked Kyle for coming to his dad to let him know he was fine. Then I asked, “Why did you hang up on him?”

   “He’s so stupid, how can I get in a car accident up in heaven?”
   I explained.  “That was your dad’s knee-jerk reaction.  I guess he loves you even in his dreams because he still worries about you.”  I further clarified that his dad’s comments are based on his numerous car accidents, totaling three cars and his fear of still losing him. 

   Kyle responded, “I know, but that was a strange thing to say.” There was a pause. “Mom?”

   “Yea?”

   “Will you please apologize to dad for all the worry and stress I caused him. I didn’t know how he felt, but I do now.”

   I was surprised he had any idea about how a father felt. I wasn’t quite sure what that meant, did he pop into his dad’s brain and relive some experiences?  I questioned him about it. He said he’s now experienced some of his dad’s feelings and understands how scared and worried his father was for him. I decided not to ask how he all of a sudden had experienced some of those feelings, that was a little too scary for me. But a few months later a friend highly recommended the book The Survival of the Soul by Lisa Williams which helped me understand how Kyle now knew how his father felt. This book helped me understand what happens to the soul once it leaves the body and it verified that the living can talk to those that passed.  I shared with Alan, Kyle's apology. There still was this uncertainty on his face, but there was also a few tears that welled up nthe brim of the lids. That day,  I think Alan became more of a believer that Kyle was helping me through this terrible loss.