I remember when I first began vibrating. I was a child living in dysfunction. Most of my days spent locked in my closet when my dad was off working out of town or late hours.
He had no knowledge of how I was living until one day he returned from working a winter storm in Dahlonega, Georgia, he came home without notice and found me locked in my closet. I was being fed valium and had to defecate in a bag and pee in a cup.
The days I spent in my closet I was never alone. I always heard music. I sang and made music and the time passed quickly. Days became nights and I couldn't tell how many days had passed at times.
I remember the day the closet door opened to see my daddy's face in horror, his pure love taking me out of the hell I was living in and becoming my mom and dad.
We went apartment hunting that day.
He took me shopping and we grabbed some used furniture.
He bought me a guitar and we played Joan Baez songs until bedtime.
My mother hated Joan Baez and wouldn't allow him to play it in the house so he played it in his car and when he was outside working on cars.
Joan Baez had a magical angelic viberto that my daddy used to drift off to sleep.
We saw her together in concert in Atlanta Georgia and had VIP passes so I actually hugged her and gave her a button off my jacket during the concert at Chastain Park. This was surreal for me because she was the voice I grew up listening to every night in our tiny apartment as we went to sleep. I had no concept of who she was in history.
I spent my evenings humming and singing and vibrating to the strings on my guitar.
It brought me great comfort.
The smell of Marlboro cigarettes, and "cat head" biscuits filled our home and it felt like safety.
Daddy and I went to a flea market and I saw my first chime. A musically tuned chime and he bought it for me. I added this my "tool box". It was my private concert. I shared with my daddy what I saw when I played notes or hummed. He knew I was different and he loved me and promised to protect me.
One Sunday my brother came over and brought some friends he knew from racing bikes. I was in my room and one of his friends came in and pushed me down and shoved his hand up my shirt.
I left my body.
My dad came in and we were all brought in the the living room to watch racing tapes.
I hated my body. It didn't fit my soul. I began dressing like a boy. Flannel shirts and blue jeans so I didn't look like a girl. I hated having breasts after that happened. I would wear layers to push them down.
As I grew older it was time for me to attend high school. We moved to a trailer in Harris County, Georgia.
I wanted so badly to have friends but I had nothing in common with anyone. Girls scared me. Boys would be my friend but I had to keep it a secret.
School began and I made my first friend, A guy on the bus that was just as scared as I was. He was the stereotypical brainiac nerd guy with thick rimmed glasses and a pile of books.
By the third week of riding the bus, my friend made me an origami dragon and slipped it to me through the seats.
I hated high school. I didn't understand the cliques or the trends.
When I was asked questions about who I was, I answered and my answers were embellished by bullies who were looking for reasons to build a story around me.
When I did make authentic connections they were real and I was so grateful until one day, a student I had connected with needed a ride home and I was driving at this time. I had a VW. He hopped in my car and then he hid his face in his jacket.
He was hiding the fact that he was with me.
I will never forget how this felt.
I dropped him off and swore I would never tolerate that behavior from anyone ever again.
This hurt me deeply but that hurt turned to anger.
I had a long ride home from school that day because I took a guy home who I thought was my friend and he needed a ride.
I sang so loudly a song that poured from my mouth. I cried as I drove home that day. I was not alone in my car. The frequencies that once comforted me had returned to me.
Last year when I chose to take myself off of antidepressants after using them for almost 30 years, my brain went through an adjustment process that included severe ringing in my ears.
At first I thought it was madness. I resisted. I was in fear thinking I had damaged my brain and no one could help me. My doctor wanted me to consider taking an anti anxiety medication and I refused to get back on any medications.
I had to find a way to make peace with this non stop ringing. After a few months of non stop ringing my husband thought it would be helpful to get into the woods away from all the noise of our community. We ventured to Big Basin and walked deep into the forest where I sat and cried. I cried from exhaustion.
After this release I decided to make friends with what was diagnosed as tinnitus. On our way home we stopped in my favorite metaphysical boutique OM Gallery in Santa Cruz and I made a beeline to the singing bowls. I sat down and began playing each bowl trying to match the frequency I heard in my brain.
After an hour of playing the bowls I found a bowl that matched the tone in my ears. My husband delighted with my response bought it for me as a symbol of my acceptance of this unexplainable occurrence that I had to come to terms with.
I began playing this bowl when I felt the ringing in my ears became overwhelming.
I woke from dreams of me playing in chambers for leaders and those in power. I vividly recall being asked to soothe the tormented spirits of the community.
Daily I would play for myself and my tinnitus decreased the more I played. I began to see the shape of each frequency as I went deeper and bought more bowls.
As each bowl arrived. I went deeper into my studies and found even more evidence of the actual benefit on humanity and made a commitment to play everyday in my garden for my community.
This past month, daily I hear trees being cut down. I see entire communities homeless and I see land being grabbed up. We evaluate every year if we are going to stay here or move on. For now we are here and I am committed to bring these frequencies into the ethers as I observe these drastic changes.
I use my bowls with clients for private sessions as well as other sound healing techniques. This video is just a quick share about my passion for sound healing.
My husband and I attended a sound immersion in Woodside a few months ago and not only were we immersed in healing frequencies, I received heavy downloads each time I attended. Like a Disney movie my brain showed me all the shapes of each sound and how it penetrates our bones and the water in our body, ringing our soul bell :) No longer am I afraid of the ringing in my ears , I know I am hearing frequencies.
I developed a hunger for this daily. This is healing.
This is medicine and it available for us all !
Dopamine, is one of the major neurotransmitters we all take for granted until our brain is no longer being fed the constant flow of approval in the form of "likes" on social media.
Loneliness is at an all time high in the collective. This year I have had a few souls I knew to take their life. For one reason or another they wanted to be done.
I reviewed in my thoughts if there were anyway I could have intervened or reached out but in a world that functions on likes and views, my voice wouldn't be heard.
I stepped in to a live stream a few months ago of a hurting soul on fb that was in his home with a loaded gun desperate to be seen. As he shook and tried to share how he was feeling , he would become angry if his stream was slow or the views went down. It became a virtual live show for his life. I looked into his soul and saw the terrified little boy inside him.
I reached into his heart and sent him the unconditional love of Christ. I was a tiny voice but I reached out. He needed to be heard and seen and he survived that night and is now getting the help he deserved.
This changed me.
Seeing his desperation to be seen and to have views, woke me up to the dangers we now face as we try to connect and be seen on social media. As I become older I lose interest in social media and the non stop dopamine fix we all get when someone likes our facebook/instagram posts. Dopamine inspires us to take actions to meet our needs and desires to be seen and loved by the masses. Persuasive technology is used to influence our behavior, and we are in it thick ! Social media makes it clear that you are either the product or the buyer. Never forget this.
I removed myself from all social media over a week ago. I have only checked in once to see if anyone who knew or read my posts noticed. I began to see how addicted I was to "likes" and how manipulated I felt from the process. I began daily making a choice to stay in every moment. I resisted pulling out my phone to post a pic of this or that or post a moment. I began being fully in the moment and I felt grief for choosing to not share it until the grief lifted and I saw it for what it was. I was carrying around a little dopamine stimulator in my pocket called an android smartphone.
Once I realized what I was doing to myself I powered off my phone. Instead of looking at what everyone else was doing with their life, I began living mine to the fullest.
When did our identity become wrapped up in what we post?
Who am I ?
I began journaling again.
I began sacred ritual again.
I picked up my guitar and began playing for the first time in years. I developed a daily ritual to stay mindful of who I am and what I offer. Standing in my power without an audience.
Standing nude under the moon light without filters or a pic to post. Living in each moment, every color, scent and frequency.
My identity without the need for others approval is priceless .