Ok, for any of you who have heard me sing you know I cannot carry a tune.  This has always been a mystery to me, because as a child I sang my dang head off.  There was no stopping me.  Relatives over for a Sunday afternoon visit?  Let me entertain you! Elvis Presley’s version of Aura Lee was a favourite in my repertoire.  In reflection, I wonder if the word ‘aura’ caught my attention, but hey!  I was receiving some much needed praise, not to mention a dollar or two from my Uncles who appreciated raw talent.

In Sunday School, which was held on Saturday’s (?????), I was studying my blue Baltimore Catechism faithfully in order to receive the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist for my First Communion.  In preparation to please God, Father Flynn and our parents, in that order, our little group was learning to sing Ave Maria.  I have to stop the story here and share my love for all components of ritual ceremony.  I was raised as a Roman Catholic.  The Church held deep mysteries for me as I listened to the Mass being given in Latin at the altar, inhaled the frankincense burning, and perked up hearing the little holy brass bells tinkling, commanding us to stand, kneel and make the sign of the cross.  All that said, I was into the Church hook, line and soul-sinker.

One day at rehearsal, one of the Sisters waved her hand in the air stopping everyone from singing and walked over to where I was sitting in the front pew.  She held my chin in her skin-scrubbed-raw hand and stared at me.  Panic-stricken I thought I had done something wrong, misspoken the Latin words of Ave Maria, or was going to be chastised because I never could master rolling my r’s.  She asked the other Sister to go and get Father Flynn.  This was not good.

Upon Father Flynn’s arrival, the Sister announced that “We have the voice of an Angel in our midst, Father!” It was decreed that I would sing a solo for Holy Communion.  I must have had the voice of an Angel, because I felt lighter than air.  My feet never touched the stairs as I left the church and dove into the back of my father’s waiting car.  I was talking so fast that it seemed within seconds and I was home telling my mother of the incredible news – “I’m singing a SOLO!”

My mother burst out laughing.  “You?  There must be a mistake. Sister was teasing you; you can’t even carry a tune!”

As my power was being bitterly stolen from a woman who had little joy of her own in childhood, something shifted inside my little heart.  I doubted myself.  I did not yet have the tools to combat the authority of my mother.  I returned to Church the following week and told the Sisters that my parents had asked that someone else be chosen to sing the solo, citing an excuse that I was unable to make the extra rehearsals to practice the solo.

Stuffing down hurt and sadness does not a joyful sound make.

Being of tenacious Spirit, when I was in my late teens I tried out to be part of a local all girl band.  We were called The Four Country Girls. I was fairly competent playing my acoustic guitar, but when it came to singing back-up, the lead singer asked that I just strum and mouth the words as the other three carried the song.

(Opens mouth, tries to look sexy playing guitar.)

For years I did not sing at all.  In my late twenties I would sing for my little girl, Wendie, because what the heck – she was too young to be a music critic.  As both my children grew older and reached their teen years I heard plenty of, pleassseee don’t sing! or watched them reach past me, turning the car radio volume dial to drown out my pathetic comeback as a wannabe singer.

Through journeying, it was relayed to me, by Guides, that by not throwing my voice to Spirit I was allowing others to steal my power.

Now I unabashedly sing to Spirit, to Grandfather Tunkashila, to the Universe.  I just open my mouth and out it flies with an unbridled fervor of positive intentions.  It doesn’t matter if I’m off tune, or in the wrong key, or sing my own words.  Spirit cares not for perfection, as true perfection is only attainable in non-physical dimensions.

Spirit resonates with sounds of joy and the feelings in our heart.  It is the intent in which we give forth these sounds that matters.  There is power in words, whether we speak, chant or sing them.

Spirit’s ear is attuned to all keys, all levels of melody, and harmony.  Grandfather hears your unique voice, meek or bold and holds it, with honour, in his heart.

For anyone experiencing unemployment, feeling restless from unrealized potentials and lost dreams, or fighting mental exhaustion — take heart there is a way to reclaim your light.

As children we played freely without reserve.  There was no censoring of creative thought or act.  As a baby boomer we lounged on blankets under trees, having conversations with our baby dolls, Barbies and paper dolls. We’d weave together coloured cotton loops to make potholders or braid miniature rugs for our dollhouse.  Bursting into dance on the front lawn or practicing cheers to qualify for the Pep Club, we begged our parents to stay outdoors as late as we could, at least until the street lights came on.  Gardens and woods were a magical place of fairies, and fireflies.  Costumes for our backyard plays were made from housedresses Mom lent us, or Dad’s old white shirt rescued from being torn for rags.  Listening to our transistor radios, we’d use a brush as a microphone and sing-a-long to popular songs heard on American Bandstand.  We kept diaries, pressed flowers and wrote poetry.  Boys played cowboys and Indians, raced soap-box derby cars down the street, were members of the all boys club that sat high in a tree or played glorious pirates as they imagined themselves on Treasure Island.

What was your awe factor as a child?  What play-acting activities did you enjoy in those early years, that have not yet been realized in your life?

Slogging through years of disappointments, grief, loss of dreams, unfulfilled relationships, jobs not careers, and responsibilities of raising a family, causes our higher potentials to become buried then forgotten within our consciousness.  Inner light diminishes, because we forget.  We forget the energy we had as children.  It’s not too late, no matter what your age, to reclaim that light.  Letting life beat us down must be fought hard against with a higher power we all possess.  Depression is lack of action.  In the words of that great lyricist Dorothy Fields, “pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and start all over again”.

Are you attuning yourself to failure or success?  Whatever your current situation, you need to understand that change is a natural process.  The more you fight change, the more it will fight you.  If you surrender to the process it will lead you to an inner light of ascension; an ascension of understanding that you still have some work to do on this planet as it relates to the gifts you were given as a child.

How to begin:

Write down a list of all the things that brought you joy as a child.

How many of those joyful gifts can you segue into your present life now?

What imaginative ways can you think to live your passion?

Examples:

If you day-dreamed about being an actor join the community drama club.

If you wanted to be a doctor or nurse, take the EMT accredited training.

If you wanted to be a CPA let HR Block train you.

If you are a care-giver with natural empath tendencies, volunteer at hospice, Big Brother/Sister, elder care facilities, literacy training, or the local hospital.

If you wanted to be a musician or artist, there is no time like today to start lessons.  Don’t have the money for lessons?  Then ask someone you know with these gifts to mentor you!

If you wanted to be a writer, start writing about the intimate subject of you; your experiences; your lessons; your joys;-just begin.

Life as a child was a gift and remains an untapped potential in regaining our sense of true-born Spirit not yet fulfilled.  Share your gifts – what are you saving them for?

When you were born, you were born with a lightseed inside of you.  Let this light shine through your unique talent given to you at birth.

Inspire others – elevate the genuine philanthropy born to you.

You are Light. 

When born you were filled with Universal Light and upon the first verbal sounds that uttered from your baby lips the Light was within you.  The connection of this Light can be seen through the eyes or sensed in the auric field. It defines the “awake” people from the walking soul-wounded.

When my daughter was born it took two weeks for this Light to emanate from her eyes.  I walked into the nursery and there it was-a brilliant yellow white light shining from her eyes.  Her personality was jump started; rebooted.  She was connected to the Light.  When my son was born the Light was instantaneous like a laser beam.  I always wondered why the difference between my two children?  Was my daughter’s higher consciousness weighing the values to stay or go from this earth plane?  Was she thinking, “Oh No! Not this blue planet AGAIN!”  This profound discovery of what I had experienced left me in awe for years.

There are those who are awake and those who are not.  We see the non-awake people in the shopping centers, work, in our own circle of family and friends.  We see it in the faces of alcoholics, drug addicts, abused children and women who have been the victims of domestic violence.  Fractured.  Has the Light  been stolen by someone else, or it is hiding waiting to be reactivated as it was at their moment of birth?

This is one reason why I created this site.  I wanted to identify and help people find their Light again.  I wanted them to know that it’s possible to Reclaim Your Light.

Are you feeling there is a void in your life? As if your flame has been extinguished?  As if you are slogging to pull yourself through each day? 

First get yourself a good physical check up with a Doctor you can trust.  Follow the advice and give it due course.

Still feeling the same? Then explore a wide variety of complementary and alternative therapies in journeying, sound therapy, Soul-Retrieval, energy work.  Be educated.  Google, read, talk with your confidants, join groups.  Use verbs! Take action! Heck, read my blog!

Being awake with Light sustains the creative process and allows you to fulfill your authentic mission for being on this planet and why you are here.  It’s a responsibility to yourself to find the Light if you’ve lost it, and to use the Light once you have it.