Happiness

Firstly, I’d like to say thank you to the beautiful Deb over at Once Upon A Hot Flash for tagging me in the happiness tag. I know some people prefer not to participate in these nominations, therefore, if I have tagged you and you’d rather not complete the process – please don’t feel obliged to! (Instructions can be found at the bottom of this post.)

I, on the other hand, couldn’t resist. (Especially since the subject is ‘happiness’.) Any chance to reflect on that which brings me great joy and for which I am grateful, is worthy of a moment of my time. Plus today is my Dad’s birthday! So in honor of his special day – I would like to spread some happiness…

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Happy Birthday Dad xx

Five Things That Make Me Happy

  1. Nature
    I love spending time outdoors. Sitting and contemplating, walking, observing, listening – I simply love it. Nature heals, nature uplifts, nature inspires. If you ever feel tired, lethargic, anxious, depleted or stressed – go for a walk. Find a park bench and sit for a while. Listen to the birds, breathe in the fresh air and just be.KONICA MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERA
  2. Cooking and Food
    Some of the best conversations happen around the table. Growing up, food was just that – food. (In fact, I’m not even sure it could be called ‘food’ it was so over-processed!’) However, since discovering fresh, wholesome, organic produce – I just can’t get enough of the wonderful creation Mother Nature provides. Of course, I am human and occasionally indulge – but mostly, I enjoy the feeling I get from eating meals that heal and foods that nourish, energise and sustain. In fact, I am so inspired by this way of eating that I started a blog called Don’t Panic Go Organic. It is still in the early stages yet, however, this will be a place to share recipes, super foods and alternative (safer) every day products – as well as a place of spiritual healing and connection. Come and say ‘hello!’organic_food_delivery_dont-panic-go-organic
  3. Disney and Fantasy
    I love fantasy and make believe. I think that the best thing we can nurture in our children, as well as in our adult lives, is the imagination. The ability to dream, create and use our imagination is what sets the pessimists apart from the optimists. When you believe in miracles, miracles really do begin to appear everywhere. Go on – I dare ya! Make a wish!!!-imagination-logic-amazing-inspirational-intelligence-Albert-Einstein-
  4.  Stationary and Books
    I am a self confessed geek who loves books and stationary. I have notepads and journals galore, pretty pens and pencil cases and an ever growing book collection that I hope will rival that of Belle’s from Beauty and the Beast one day! I feel most at peace when I am reading the world’s wisdom traditions or when I am surrounded by my journals with a pen in hand and a heart full of inspiration.beauty-and-the-beast-library
  5. Divine Guidance and Connection
    I receive my greatest insights when I take a moment to be still, to quieten the busy mind and connect with Divine energy; that greater being that resides deep within each and every one of us. Whether it is through my meditation practice, yoga, my Angel Oracle cards, healing crystals or through prayer, there is no greater comfort and clarity than in that moment when we become one with our true authentic self – with Source. It is here that I connect with my Dad, with Spirit, with God, with every other being on this planet, with all that ever was, ever is and ever shall be.universe

At this stage I am also asked to write about 5 songs that make me happy – however, I have blogged about this previously here. But for all you happy bloggers – go ahead and tell us of five things and five songs that make you smile or feel happy – then spread the happiness!

My Nominations

1. Miriam at Out an’About who spreads oodles of love and joy along her travels.
2. Tammy, my dear childhood friend from My Little Bit of Serenity.
3. Oneta Haynes from Sweet Aroma who always manages to brighten my day.
4. Fatmawaty over at Qolamii who is delightfully sweet on her journey through writing.
5. MeRaw over at The Journey of My Left Foot who finds comfort along her healing journey through writing and connecting.

In Love and Light

Hayley xx

Found.

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Day Thirteen: Serially Found
On day four, you wrote a post about losing something.
Today’s Prompt: write about finding something.
Today’s twist: if you wrote day four’s post as the first in a series, use this one as the second installment — loosely defined.

I didn’t know it at the time, but from my deepest despair was to emerge one of my most deepening and life-affirming discoveries.

One thing that continued to torment me when Dad died was the inconceivable notion that he was ‘gone’. That concept – the idea of Dad no longer existing was heart wrenching for me, as I am sure it is for many others coming to terms with the loss of a loved one, and I found it incredibly hard to accept. In my deepest despair I would find myself asking, ‘Dad has gone…but gone where? How could such a beautiful human being, with so many thoughts, experiences, emotions and memories, simply cease to exist? Become…nothing?

Someone must have heard my inner torment, because five months later, I experienced my first awakening to what can only be described as a world far beyond our own earthly realm – the world of Spirit.

“We will know if it’s a load of b*llocks,” said Mum. She has always had a way with words. We were parked outside Maria’s house, attempting to settle our nerves and emotions – neither of us knowing what to expect – both feeling more than a little sceptical. “And I’ll be really upset if she’s making it up…” Mum continued. Mum is a natural pessimist and I often find myself having to bite my tongue – but on this occasion, I too, was feeling rather doubtful – hopeful! But doubtful nevertheless… I wondered how I might react to the disappointment we were potentially subjecting ourselves to, I didn’t think our hearts could withstand any more sorrow, so I quickly banished those thoughts. This was our first, if somewhat dubious, attempt to heal the gaping wounds, and there was no backing out now. I turned to Mum. “Well – there’s only one way to find out!”

We climbed out of Mum’s Peugeot and stood at the foot of Maria’s driveway. Mum and I made a quick pact to give nothing away – no leading information, nothing that Maria could use to formulate a response. We edged towards Maria’s front door. Mum nudged my arm, gesturing towards the doorbell and then glanced all around her as though Casper or Slimer might jump out from behind a bush at any moment and scream, ‘BOO!’ I pressed the doorbell. Ding dong. The door was answered by a boy of about fifteen. He had the sullen air of your averaged teenaged boy turned butler for his mum. He mumbled for us to take a seat in the hallway, before skulking through the door to our right. Mum knotted her hands together. Neither of us spoke. Though small and compact, the entrance had a homely feel to it, with cedar wood doors and skirting boards. The walls were light and painted cream, and so far, I hadn’t seen any purple fabrics draped over doorways, or any trace of a black cat! Were we in the right place?

Just then, the door to our left opened, revealing a short, round lady in her fifties. She smiled warmly and invited us in tomystic meg take a seat. This room was also light and cosy, with a sweet, rich scent of sandalwood. Maria plonked herself in the tall
armchair behind the wooden table. At the time, I was nineteen, and my only experience of anything remotely physic had been on the television, when Mystic Meg would appear on the National Lottery Live predicting who the week’s winner would be. Needless to say, I was a little confused by the warm, motherly figure seated before me; she didn’t have jet black hair, she wasn’t skinny and bony, and she certainly wasn’t dressed in a cloak! In fact, she reminded me a little of Mrs Tiddywinks (minus the prickles), and I remember mrs tiddywinklethinking that she seemed more suited to baking homely treats in the kitchen than peering into crystal balls and talking to ghosts…

Maria told us of the different readings she offered and asked why we were there. Mum and I glanced at each other, remembering our pact outside; but looking at the table before Maria, I noticed that she seemed to be missing her crystal ball, and so I figured she needed something; I settled on, “We recently lost someone…”  Maria offered her condolences, and then the room fell silent. She tilted her head and appeared to listen, her gentle eyes dancing around the room, as though they could see unseen things.

And then she said it. Just like that.

No prompts, no questions, simply; “I am joined by a man who appears to be in his late forties. He’s very tall!” Mum gasped and turned to me, her eyes awash with sudden tears of elation. I too, was engulfed in emotion as every ounce of my being flooded with love. Pure joy overtook me as I was enveloped with an overwhelming sense of relief. In that instant, I knew – knew that my Dad was in the room – that this lady, by some indescribable and unexplained gift of hers, was able to see him, to connect with him on a level I had never imagined possible in real life; that is, until that moment. Dad was here, in this room. He was no longer lost. I was no longer lost.

As Maria continued, Mum and I were utterly spellbound. ‘Before we go on,’ she said. ‘He wants you both to know that he didn’t even realise he’d passed over until his Mum came to meet him, so you mustn’t torture yourselves any longer.’ Mum and I squeezed each other’s hands tightly as the tears began to flow again. Those words were a healing medicine – poured over the wounds that months of torture, guilt and grief at the thought of our gentle giant dying all alone and in pain, had left behind. Never has one person’s words provided me with so much release as the one’s spoken by Maria on that day. With every word spoken, my heart grew lighter and lighter. I was finally free from the formidable constraints of guilt and oppression that had burdened me for so long, burdened us for so long.

A steady stream of truths about my Dad that no person could ever fabricate without having known him ensued. There was no doubt in our minds that Maria was communicating with Dad directly. She told us that he still bickered with his Dad and his brother, to which we all giggled. Maria had no way of knowing that both my Gran and Grandpa and my Uncle on my Dad’s side were also deceased – yet she knew Dad was with them. She reassured us that Dad was now free of the afflictions that hindered him during his lifetime. “All spirits,” she assured us, “leave behind any ailments when they pass over.” Those words were so comforting. She also told us that Dad was drawing again – a talent he had had to give up after his brain hemorrhage – a talent that both my sister and I appear to have inherited from him. Dad especially loved to draw birds – Kingfisher’s and Kestrels, and now he was, once again, drawing beautiful pictures. Maria told us many things that day. Naturally, Mum and I didn’t want the session to end, but of course, the time came when we had to say our goodbyes. Although this time, goodbye seemed less heavy than before – goodbye wasn’t goodbye at all. We’d found Dad again.

At the end of the session, Mum got out her purse and Maria stopped her. “I don’t charge people who are grieving,” she said. We couldn’t believe it. If ever anybody doubted the authenticity of Maria’s gift, her refusal to charge us a single penny that day is enough to erase all trace of doubt from anyone’s mind. Maria is a very special lady and what she gave to us was utterly priceless. What she gave to us was the gift of insight, the gift of communication, the gift of freedom, of peace, but most of all, she gave to us the gift of eternal love.

From that moment onwards, however painful some days may seem, however much I miss Dad and wish to be with him, to see him and to feel his presence again, I now rest deep in the knowledge that I am never truly without him – one thing I am sure of, is that I am forever surrounded by his love.

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