Your Body is Constantly Working to Create Radiant Health.

Healing is easy. That’s right, you heard me. Healing is easy. The moment you cut yourself, for example, your body goes to work. You don't have to make a conscious effort to heal that cut, your body knows what to do. Your body is constantly working to create balance. Your body is constantly working to create radiant health. When you, your spirit and your mind, engages in the healing process... seeming miracles take place. You have the power to heal yourself.... with experienced support. I’m not talking about crazy voo doo or even good ju ju when you refuse to seek professional help either. I’m talking about a new paradigm of co-operative self-healing partnered with the liscensed professionals of your choice and someone like me. I’m talking about leaping into the incredibly exciting cutting edge science with your own consciousness!! I’m sure many of you have heard the fictional story about a man who lived in a home that was about to be flooded. Neighbors knocked on his door offering to quickly drive the man away to a safe location. He refused, stating that God would save him. Later on two rescuers in a zodiac knocked on his window to whisk him away to safety and again, he refused. When the man was confined to his own roof a helicopter flew overhead with a rope to save him, he refused. He believed God would save him. When the man, standing in front of the proverbial pearly gates lodged his complaint. the answer given was, “I sent a car, a boat and a helicopter!” Oops. The universe has been knocking on your door; You know you can heal, you just need some validation, inspiration, intuitive input and unconditionally loving support. Your doctor, is not God. I know that is a radical statement in the age of little blue pills but it is the truth. Your doctor is a superbly gifted, well intentioned and fantastically intelligent wo/man who is an important piece on your road to well being. When your doctor speaks about a spontaneous healing that defies modern science ....... oh wait..... s/he doesn’t speak about it. It is the white elephant in the room. Don’t let this ‘the world is flat’ and a 'doctors hands are so pure that they can not pass germs from one patient to another' mentality cripple your ability to manifest your own ‘miracle’. Remember that in 1706, the year Benjamin Franklin was born, an electric light would have appeared to be a miracle. I believe miracles are just proof that modern science still has a long way to go to catch up with explaining reality. Isn’t that exciting? We are still learning! Did you know that medical schools have coined the term “MEDSTUDENTITIS.” “One study showed that seventy-nine percent of medical students report developing symptoms suggestive of the illness they are studying. Because they get paranoid and think they will get sick, they do”. Seventy-nine percent is a pretty sweeping majority for some of our brightest citizens to create their own illness and admit to it! We all know we can make our selves sick. We have all done it and we all know people who have done it. If we can make ourselves sick, doesn’t it make sense that we can make ourselves well? Before you fantasize about my head on a stick with angry pitch forks please know how deeply I apply the quote “Easier said than done,” to this scenario! I’ve been there myself, trapped in a quagmire of my own making and believing that I was 100% victim of my own life circumstances and my own bodies’ genetic weaknesses. I have healed myself of a “Permanent” disability in my left ankle, debilitating environmental allergies, postpartum depression and the horrific beginnings of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Doctor Lipton has stated that, “When we shift the mind’s interpretation of illness from fear and danger to positive belief, the brain responds biochemically, the blood changes the body’s cell culture, and the cells change on a biological level.” Take that in. after two decades of research and experimentation there is just so much to share. for now, experience the power of being heard, loved and cared for. I want to be a partner on your journey to vibrant well being! I believe it is time to share my secrets and infectiously positive beliefs! Why? Because, I wish for a world full of people with happy spirits in happy bodies on a happy planet. Now THAT would be a miracle, wouldn’t it..... but maybe I can help. Schedule a session and..... Feel the magic...

What Makes Me a Mystic?

As a child I was always acutely aware that I was never alone.  I could feel all the supportive beings around me and I could also feel those who chose to live in the darkness.  My first memory of receiving guidance consciously was when I was 5 years old.  I was standing on my porch with an older friend who was having a hard time; she had just asked me a question that I had no idea how to answer.  I moved my attention upward and thought to myself, "I hope it happens again."  It did happen and my young friend was comforted and satisfied with my answers.  I was first contacted by a disincarnate spirit when I was about 10 years old.  A young girl came to me spirit, she was upset and confused;  She explained to me that she was looking for her older sister and her mother because they had just been in a car accident together in England!  I didn't know if I could do anything but I said a silent prayer asking for help and she just disappeared from my awareness.  As I grew, into a teenager, I mostly lost touch with my gifts until I was about eighteen years old.

       Graduating from High School prompted that age old question, "What's it all about?"  I spent a day sitting on the dock at the edge of my mind, just fishing for an answer. My awareness dove into the all and silently back floated until the answer finally came.  Suddenly, I was flooded with the sweetest energy.......... It came into me while also springing up from within me.  It was so simple..... To simple..... It was just love.  I was overcome with love for myself, the great unknown, my family, the neighbors, strangers on the street and people who had hurt me.  I fell in love with the world, the tree's, flowers, bugs, sunsets and everything......... Absolutely everything.  It's all about love..... That's it!  Trust me....... Even knowing the answer........ Doesn't make it easy.  Navigating through the world with love will bring all of your failings to the surface.  When you slip into jealousy, anger, or depression (All just more complicated versions of fear) after having been in love with the world...... After knowing what life is all about it can be so disappointing.  Even when you feel solid in your knowing, and are truly loving those you interact with, you are vulnerable to their quick judgments, cruel misunderstandings and devastating lack of love.  You just have to keep lifting yourself back up, lifting your neighbors back up, and knowing when to ask for the right support.  Remember that when people act out in ways that hurt you it is because they are in a fearful place and, honestly, you cannot be hurt by anyone without allowing it.  

         At nineteen, after a year of daily yoga, partaking in a teetotaling vegetarian diet, countless meditation walks and constant self healing books coupled with deep reflection ... my awareness grew quickly.  I sat myself trustingly in the hands of the conscious greater GOoD, in the light/love/source and desperately wanted to know what my personal mission was.  Finally, I took one full day away from my few responsibilities to meditate seriously on one question.  As I did my yoga, journaled, drank my tea, ate my meals and sat in dreamy reflection I was constantly asking, "What should I do with my life?"  I had sat in on some classes at the prestiges Bastyr pondering 7 years of college, in a big city, to become a Naturopath.  I’m not a city girl.  I was taking photography, humanities and literature courses in college and pondered whether I would be of the most service as a traveling journalist and photojournalist.  My path as a spiritual healer was forever tugging at my east Indian wrap around skirt but this was 1991 when finding training in such fields seemed nearly impossible.  So on and on went my day ... questioning, opening, praying, listening..... but nothing happened.  I went to bed with a knowing, that was more like a hope, that I would have a meaningful dream ... that all would be clear in the morning.  I awoke disappointed with no clarity of purpose.  Nothing.  As I was sitting with my morning tea, leafing casually through a life magazine I was struck by what I can only describe as an ethereal 'lightening'.  I was suddenly in a conscious space of nothingness, nothing but the moment I was in existed.  I completely lost touch with my awareness as little Angela, the human being fumbling along.  Anything I had felt was important just vanished from my sphere of awareness.  I was struck with an intense light, tears were streaming down my face like someone had turned a faucet on and I was in the midst of absolute unadulterated bliss.  Pure bliss. Bliss.   I was shown myself floating in the kitchen surrounded in this light and than........ I kid you not..... A deep booming voice (like a cartoon God) said, "You. Are. To. Help. Bring. The. Light. Here."  THAT is my personal mission.  I understood.  I was in Perfect clarity.  No more questions.  Then, just as abruptly as it had started, it was over. How do I express the majestic ecstasy of those moments?  The living light surrounding me, lifting me and moving through me?  Some of it is in my poetry ... a tool to express the inexpressible.  But most of it is in your future, waiting for you to experience on your own.  It wasn't until that night, or possibly the next day, that I realized I still hadn't had my question answered in a practical way.  "Wait a minute!" I spoke aloud to myself and whomever might be listening, "But, how do I bring the light here?  Which direction do I go in?"  Oh, how I struggled with that!  It wasn't until years later that I realized that I hadn't been pointed in a specific direction because it didn't matter.  It doesn't mater if we are bringing our gifts to the world as a janitor or a PH.D holding scientist.  What matters, is that we are sharing our gifts.  What matters, is that we are loving.  Loving our partners, loving our politicians, loving ourselves.... loving our light and seeing it in everyone.

      Since my first experiences, I have been to heaven and hell within and without. I have gained and lost powerful energy, I have lived abundantly and even been homeless at 7 months pregnant with twins.  I have lived many years close to the bliss of that first experience with the light and also journeyed through the dark night of the soul in my thirties.  Among to many mystical moments to list I have had a near death experience where I was taught that the light is consciousness.... is alive.... sentient..... And the source of the all.  With the assistance of dear friends, I have come to realize myself as a healer, medium, animal communicator and occasional channel.  I have been contacted by masters, angels, nature spirits, guides, star beings and disincarnates.  This has given me a firm grasp on the inner workings of our great universe as well as a deep understanding that I really don't know anything. "It's the journey, not the destination."  My trials with the dark have been the catalyst for me to find my personal power ... to learn how to ground the energy of the light into myself, others and our earth.  We can be grateful for everything and when we are ... miracles can happen.

      

     Why me?  Only because I made the effort... I asked the questions.  

      

               and you can too....

                    

                                      ... feel the magic.

The Hippie and the Soldier on Memorial Day

    Late afternoon beer spilling, chain smoking, worn muscles, ready smiles and hardy laughs were at that picnic table by the pond.  These are the men I love.... who love me.  The warm sun on my face wasn’t half as pleasurable as my worn out heart feeling as though it were being held tenderly by them.  My family.  Crazy old stories spiced up with moments of profanity when ‘brainless voters’ or ‘overly zealous cops’ wandered in to sit at the table for a spell.  David was once an EMT here while my father was the kind of police officer that this island -and country- needs again. They have been best friends for over 30 years. They remember what this island is all about..... so do I.  David was born at the elementary school when it was his family farm and my dad learned to sail blindfolded in these northwest waters... my grandpa teaching him to feel the wind.  They have a million stories, many of which I’ve heard repeated until my burning red eyes couldn’t take another minute of smoke.  It’s funny to think how, in my more radical years, I would go home and change out of my clothes because I detested their smoke as much as my dad crinkled his nose at my Patchouli.  “It smells like mold.” Was his standard comment.  I often heard that and “If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it’s a duck.”  This was his answer when I insisted, from inside my 1971 Volkswagon pop-top camper, donning my indian print wrap-around skirts and knee length hair, that I was NOT a hippie! This could send me into a “Why do we have to label and categorize each other” 2 hour tirade.  Freedom is on every level.

   So many years have gone by...... so many passionate debates....... so much water has rippled under the bridge.  Who would have thought a green livin', liberal minded semi-feminist vegetarian would clash with a Republican, nudy calendar lovin', gun toting carnivore?  Humor is our families survival mechanism so he makes a sport of poking fun at me. He has resigned to having a wayward daughter...... and though he’ll never figure out where he went wrong....  he manages to have fun with it.  He has a sign up in his kitchen just for me....... “Vegetables aren’t food, vegetables are what food eats!”  His truck once proudly sported a bumper sticker that read, “Earth First” in bold print.  First seeing it from far away made my heart skip a beat with excitement, but as I drew closer I could read, “We’ll screw up the rest of the planets later.”  My first high school activism was supported by PETA: People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals.  One of my dad’s favorite shirts was “PETA: People Eat Tasty Animals” and “Vegetarian: Indian name for bad hunter.”  Whenever we would both spiral out of control with our self important views, David would reel us back in with gentle reminders of the love we share.  David has always been our glue.  Drafted and trusting, he was forced to shoot in Vietnam but should be known as the kind of man who will take his shirt off for someone in need..... literally..... and he has.  

    Maybe they are why I can’t take myself or any issues to seriously.  My views run deep but life is a crazy trip that runs us ragged.  We don’t know everything, we never will.... there is no right way to live.......... only a right way to love.  

    To many people who protest against wars and virulently for peace forget that the majority of men/women who join the military, whether drafted or voluntarily, have the same deep level of good intentions that the protesters have.  We are both warriors, in our own right, for something better.  Warriors for goodness, safe living and liberty.  Don’t let the media drama fool you.  We are mostly GOoD people, ALL of us, and together we are stronger than any wrongs!  Divided we are vulnerable.

     My dad and god-dad are warriors and I am a peacenik, but there aren’t two men in this world who I love more.  “Honor thy warrior, not thy war.”  Peaceful Memorial Day Dad!  I’m sorry. 

       

                                    Remember to hug a veteran and feel the magic....

                                                                                 By,

                                                                                   Angela Light

 Following this blog are two military stories from back in the day when a section eight meant a man didn’t have to fight in a war he didn’t believe in or be locked in jail like a criminal.

David’s personal story:  

       One basic training day,  just before an inspection, a guy in my company took extra care to bleach the hell out of one of the toilets.  Afterwards he took a big old glop of peanut butter and smeared it on the inside of the toilet bowl.  When the gigantic Sargent, who was “Dumb as a box of rocks” according to David, discovered the ‘filthy’ mess in the bathroom his gruff disapproval showed on his hard face.  It was that moment the drafted soldier decided to go suddenly bonkers.  The soldiers’ eyes bugged out and crossed while his disjointed motion led him to the toilet.  Once there, he reached down filling his right hand with the light brown goo and smeared it into his open mouth with bizarre mutterings.  The sergeant turned himself around marched out the door of the barrack and preceded to puke his brains out.  Of course none us knew what was going on until afterwards.  We never saw that guy again and we never heard what happened to him...

    

      

Dad’s story that had been going around at the time:

   There was this soldier in basic training and everywhere he went he was looking down and around.  He would be in the mess hall, in formation, marching or even in the shower....... forever appearing to be on a serious scavenger hunt.  He definitely had everyone convinced that he was a major nut case.  Then one day his face brightened, he straightened his stance proud and with a firm grasp displaying his section eight orders, announced, “This is what I was looking for!”

For you old islanders to get a chuckle out of.......

                                                              David left - Jim right  

 Neslund meats!  ROTFL!

Winking at a certain younger Veteran and cherishing the loving moments we have been able to share. You have helped me heal my relationship with my dad.  You are an incredible man and will always have a place in my heart.