"Your Father Will Die This Winter"
It wasn't until 11 years ago, when I was 34, that I once again became open to reconnecting to the "infinite thread of communication." Prior to this, I spent the rest of my childhood and adulthood living with angst, whether it be in school or as an employee.
In short, in first grade I was diagnosed with learning challenges involving ADD and a visual motor deficit that effects my reading comprehension, math, and writing abilities. Out of a need to please my father and fear of disappointing him, I pushed myself to the extreme to get excellent grades throughout my academic career, until I reached college. I could no longer sustain my scholastic struggle and deal with the pressure that I brought upon myself, due to trying to fulfill another persons dream and desire to become an engineer. I therefore dropped out of the University of Washington. I slipped into a major depression. I immediately reached out for help. I was put on an antidepressant. Not knowing family history, the medicine triggered a manic episode. I then went undiagnosed for two years. Through the assistance and support of my parents, I was connected to a private psychiatrist and diagnosed with bipolar. I have been stable and on medication ever since 1994.
In spite of medications for managing my bipolar, I still lived with chronic anxiety, due to living with learning challenges that affected my self-esteem. This anxiety and fear of not being good enough or smart enough, has kept me from being relaxed and being able to reconnect to the "infinite thread of communication" for 35 years.
After dropping out of college, I had a lot of customer service type jobs, because they didn't require higher education. Unfortunately, the skills needed to be successful at these sort of jobs-multi tasking, engaging with a lot of people, fast paced environment, noisy, and dealing with money, did not compliment what I live and struggle with-ADD and a visual and motor deficit. These sort of jobs just caused more stress, anxiety, and lead to more unhappiness.
It wasn't until years later in my adult life that a couple good friends who knew me well suggested a different professional path for me to pursue-massage therapy. They felt based on what I struggle with, this line of work would draw upon my natural abilities and strengths, rather than expose and focus on my weaknesses.
Being a massage therapist was an overall good fit. It provided a quiet environment. I worked one on one. Most people were friendly. I discovered I was a good problem solver and my need to please led to good outcomes and good money when working with clients with injuries. What ended my 10 year career was chronic injuries. I didn't set good and consistent boundaries, due to the fact that I was always trying to please customers, by having them receive enough pressure with deep tissue massage.
The take away of being in this line of work was priceless. I learned a great deal about anatomy and physiology, but more importantly I was exposed to Reiki and meditation, both a form of healing energy work. This became a passion for me that I still partake in to this day. By being exposed to Reiki and meditation eventually reconnected me to the "infinite thread of communication." Both facilitate my ability to connect to everything I do not see or know in the moment, but will eventually manifest in the future.
My exposure and daily practice of Reiki and meditation, is the reason why the next major incident occurred 11 years ago. While mediating in bed one morning, I heard a quiet voice in my head. This was a first. I was scared that possibly I was hearing voices, due to psychosis, too much stress. It said, "Your father will die this winter." I was frightened and taken aback. It confused me due the fact that I heard the voice in the Spring of 2006. Winter had already past. At the time it didn't make any since. The voice was loud and clear. I wrote it down in a notebook so I wouldn't forget.
Over the months to come, I couldn't keep stop thinking about the phrase I heard during meditation. I was fixated on it. My gut told me it would manifest, which made me scared. I was so convinced to the point that I went shopping for a black suit, black dress shoes, tie, and white shirt the spring of 2006.
In December of 2006, both my father and my brother Joel were having bouts of major depression. I saw both of them on Christmas eve at my father's house.
The last week of February, I heard during meditation that my brother Joel was going to die in a week. I was very upset, since he was the one sibling I felt most closest too. I took a risk, and shared this insight with my sister Erin. I wasn't sure how she would take it or if she would even believe me. When I shared, Erin stated, "I understand. But we need to take care of Dad first. They are both depressed." I drove to my brother's apt bldg. My brother didn't respond to his call box or my phone calls. I felt hopeless about the situation, because Joel wasn't responding to any of us siblings.
One week later, on a Friday evening, I was about to go out for the evening. The phone rang. I didn't pick up the landline, but I did choose to listen to the answering machine. My brother Pat left a message stating he had bad news. That my brother Joel had killed himself. I wasn't in shock, but terribly mad for not being taken seriously by my sister and for my brother to be so disrespectful to leave in a VM, rather than tell me to call him back and share in person. This was the nail in the coffin, so to speak, when it came to my relationship with my brother Pat.
The insight was spot on. My brother Joel was my father figure, once I took the time to look back on how much he influenced my growth into becoming a healthier and happier young man.
In short, in first grade I was diagnosed with learning challenges involving ADD and a visual motor deficit that effects my reading comprehension, math, and writing abilities. Out of a need to please my father and fear of disappointing him, I pushed myself to the extreme to get excellent grades throughout my academic career, until I reached college. I could no longer sustain my scholastic struggle and deal with the pressure that I brought upon myself, due to trying to fulfill another persons dream and desire to become an engineer. I therefore dropped out of the University of Washington. I slipped into a major depression. I immediately reached out for help. I was put on an antidepressant. Not knowing family history, the medicine triggered a manic episode. I then went undiagnosed for two years. Through the assistance and support of my parents, I was connected to a private psychiatrist and diagnosed with bipolar. I have been stable and on medication ever since 1994.
In spite of medications for managing my bipolar, I still lived with chronic anxiety, due to living with learning challenges that affected my self-esteem. This anxiety and fear of not being good enough or smart enough, has kept me from being relaxed and being able to reconnect to the "infinite thread of communication" for 35 years.
After dropping out of college, I had a lot of customer service type jobs, because they didn't require higher education. Unfortunately, the skills needed to be successful at these sort of jobs-multi tasking, engaging with a lot of people, fast paced environment, noisy, and dealing with money, did not compliment what I live and struggle with-ADD and a visual and motor deficit. These sort of jobs just caused more stress, anxiety, and lead to more unhappiness.
It wasn't until years later in my adult life that a couple good friends who knew me well suggested a different professional path for me to pursue-massage therapy. They felt based on what I struggle with, this line of work would draw upon my natural abilities and strengths, rather than expose and focus on my weaknesses.
Being a massage therapist was an overall good fit. It provided a quiet environment. I worked one on one. Most people were friendly. I discovered I was a good problem solver and my need to please led to good outcomes and good money when working with clients with injuries. What ended my 10 year career was chronic injuries. I didn't set good and consistent boundaries, due to the fact that I was always trying to please customers, by having them receive enough pressure with deep tissue massage.
The take away of being in this line of work was priceless. I learned a great deal about anatomy and physiology, but more importantly I was exposed to Reiki and meditation, both a form of healing energy work. This became a passion for me that I still partake in to this day. By being exposed to Reiki and meditation eventually reconnected me to the "infinite thread of communication." Both facilitate my ability to connect to everything I do not see or know in the moment, but will eventually manifest in the future.
My exposure and daily practice of Reiki and meditation, is the reason why the next major incident occurred 11 years ago. While mediating in bed one morning, I heard a quiet voice in my head. This was a first. I was scared that possibly I was hearing voices, due to psychosis, too much stress. It said, "Your father will die this winter." I was frightened and taken aback. It confused me due the fact that I heard the voice in the Spring of 2006. Winter had already past. At the time it didn't make any since. The voice was loud and clear. I wrote it down in a notebook so I wouldn't forget.
Over the months to come, I couldn't keep stop thinking about the phrase I heard during meditation. I was fixated on it. My gut told me it would manifest, which made me scared. I was so convinced to the point that I went shopping for a black suit, black dress shoes, tie, and white shirt the spring of 2006.
In December of 2006, both my father and my brother Joel were having bouts of major depression. I saw both of them on Christmas eve at my father's house.
The last week of February, I heard during meditation that my brother Joel was going to die in a week. I was very upset, since he was the one sibling I felt most closest too. I took a risk, and shared this insight with my sister Erin. I wasn't sure how she would take it or if she would even believe me. When I shared, Erin stated, "I understand. But we need to take care of Dad first. They are both depressed." I drove to my brother's apt bldg. My brother didn't respond to his call box or my phone calls. I felt hopeless about the situation, because Joel wasn't responding to any of us siblings.
One week later, on a Friday evening, I was about to go out for the evening. The phone rang. I didn't pick up the landline, but I did choose to listen to the answering machine. My brother Pat left a message stating he had bad news. That my brother Joel had killed himself. I wasn't in shock, but terribly mad for not being taken seriously by my sister and for my brother to be so disrespectful to leave in a VM, rather than tell me to call him back and share in person. This was the nail in the coffin, so to speak, when it came to my relationship with my brother Pat.
The insight was spot on. My brother Joel was my father figure, once I took the time to look back on how much he influenced my growth into becoming a healthier and happier young man.
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