I’m Still Here: Tara Darlene Smith’s Incredible Comeback from the Edge

It is my intention with this website, to provide hope and encouragement to others, primarily through the power of music. Before I share the article Tara composed for us, there is no better introduction to this remarkable woman and the things she accomplished than this short video and song written and produced for her by Songwriting with Soldiers:

Sunflowers in Iraq

By Tara Darlene Smith

Sunflowers grew in Iraq, too.

In Ireland, my chosen home, I drive past a bright cluster, and remember. 

Sunflowers were the perkiest part of any convoy I drove on. Sometimes they were a blur of yellow, other times, I luxuriated in a longer glance. In Iraq, I could have gotten someone killed for tracking beauty instead of potential danger. Behind ballistic-grade sunglasses, I’d glimpse their sunshine petals and deep brown flesh. When their faces turned towards light and danced on the wind, my grin was tough to conceal. I did my best.

Smiling was frowned upon. As was joy. And those were the only two things I was ever any good at. 

I pretended to be proficient at soldiering. My fear was that no one, especially not me, bought my act. I came from a land of greens and blues, golden light and malls that sprawled. Desert air wasn’t so different from the feel of summer in the suburbs. And without all of those Targets and Starbucks in the way, in Iraq, I had a better view of the horizon. Pinks, oranges, and purples stirred parts of me I had to re-stifle daily. 

I hadn’t expected anything beyond desolation. How could the enemy live beneath such lush skies? Parched earth was the neutral backdrop of my musings. Or rather, a stage that showcased every violent contrast. I was told we were there to help. I was also trained to kill. Protectors or predators? At war, there was never time to reconcile such conflicts.

We remained coiled springs, tense and ready for release. But whenever mortar rounds were launched at our base, we did not fire back. We hunkered in bunkers, down, down, down, like ants. More like contained cockroaches, never free to scurry from the light of explosions. Why were we taught to fight if retaliation was unauthorized? And how could peace grow from such unstable soil? 

No answers came from questions I dared not ask. Instead, I fixated on micro-battles within. I supressed a lilt in my heart whenever desert rain washed over us. Or when those defiant sunflowers brightened the beige landscape. My smile bloomed through the cracks in my Kevlar. You could send the California girl to war, but you couldn’t (fully) remove the song in her soul. I held on to the rhythm that sunrises, sunsets, and starry nights provided. 

Cranes delivered more stacks of cement, placed around our sagging, mustard yellow tents. Unless their dusty roofs took a direct hit, we were “safe” because of those thick gray walls. Smooth on the sides and flat up top, we waited until the sky blackened, scaled them, then perched. The cool night air felt closer atop the barricades. A constant threat of death inspired the stars to twinkle with greater intensity. Or maybe, war had permanently altered my vision.

When I believed the enemy was everywhere, I was constantly rewarded with evidence. Blasts of bombs and color intermingled in my mind’s eye. A fiery sunrise as we started the day’s convoy foreshadowed the abandoned vehicle we drove past that afternoon. The scent of burning tire flesh clung to my clothes. How that green overturned truck came to be engulfed in flames was a mystery. Explanations were not handed down to low-level soldiers; confusion was part of the collateral damage. 

The underbelly of patriotism was ignorance. I was blinded by mine. But I started asking myself silently, secretly, What am I doing here? Question marks in my heart twisted and rotated, then morphed into anchors. 

And what about that roadside bomb, perfectly designed to harm from a distance? A few seconds delay in detonation meant that I was not converted into mist. Everything rattled as I drove through, but my HMMWV was only dusted with fine blue powder. Beyond the immediate gift of more time to exist, I craved clarity. Why did they want to kill me? Decades later, part of me still can’t help but take that IED personally. 

Sometimes, I have reimagined the attack. Like the blast happened near a golden expanse of fields. No sunflowers were about that day. But in my reclamation, seconds before impact, their petaled faces have appeared. In slow motion. The explosion. Then, catapulted leafy green bodies. They rose. They hovered above the tan armor of my truck. They fell. Left to wilt on hot pavement after I drove away. Forever released from joyful wind dances.

No matter how far my mind wanders, fresh Irish fields, and the air they sweeten, bring me back. On Ireland’s rugged soil, I am grounded. 

My California roots flourish in this soft rain, and the longer I’m here, the brighter I bloom. What has faded between war and now is my desperation for certainty. I could fill a thousand pages with all that I don’t understand. As unanswered questions remain in the ether, what matters most is that here, I am safe to ask them.

Then the greens, blues, and gentle light remind me to focus on what I can feel. Like warmth in my core that spreads to my limbs when I rest near an open turf fire. Or a grin that lingers on my lips long after I drive past a vibrant garden. Because I am free to savor this simple truth—sunflowers grow in Ireland, too. 

###

TARA DARLENE SMITH feeds her soul by writing and reading creative nonfiction. She hopes to move ever closer to her truth one word at a time. She has studied creative writing in California and Colorado, earning her B.A. and M.A. Tara believes that where she writes is as important as what she writes about, and most recently has moved to the captivating west coast of Ireland to work. Tara’s love of the sea, traditional Irish music, and building community through storytelling have collided in the most fantastic ways in County Clare. As she continues to craft her memoir, Tara is fueled by caffeine and fierce optimism. Please visit her website at www.taradarlenesmith.com

***If you, or anyone you know is contemplating suicide, the 988 Suicide & Crisis Prevention Lifeline provides free and confidential support for people in distress, prevention and crisis resources for you or your loved ones,  24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Simply call 988.

For more information on Songwriting with Soldiers: https://songwritingwithsoldiers.org

Sunflowers photo credit: Susanne Jutzeler, Schweiz from Pixabay

What I Learned About Panic from Nearly Drowning

 

I was about 14 years old on that hot and humid summer afternoon in Connecticut. Several of my friends and I were planning on going to a local lake to spend the afternoon swimming and basking in the sun. My friend’s parents dropped us off, then left us to enjoy the day together.

We positioned our beach towels on the shore, then my friends all ran excitedly into the lake and swam out to a platform that was floating in the water. Don’t ask me how far the platform was from the shore; I have no idea.

Now I’m not the greatest swimmer, but I’d had a few lessons, so I was a bit unsure that day, of whether I should try to swim to the floating platform, but, as teenagers tend to do, it was important that I follow the crowd, be part of the cool people, so I pushed my apprehension aside and proceeded to swim toward the platform.

Well, I got halfway there and suddenly my body just sort of gave up and since I had stopped moving, I sank beneath the surface of the water.

I managed to kick my legs and get my head above water, but I quickly sank a second time, and this time, I started to swallow lake water. Again, I somehow managed to get myself to the surface, but then I sank a third time.

Everything in my field of vision was green because the lake water was green with little bits of debris drifting past. I could see the surface about five feet above me. I couldn’t see the bottom.

As I sank, the surface of the water was rapidly growing higher and higher above me. I was exhausted and inhaled even more lake water.

Something inside of me said, “If you panic now, you’re going to drown.”

I began to move my feet and arms to propel myself to the surface. It took every bit of strength I had, but I did it.

When I got to the surface, I turned myself over onto my back and floated. Gasping. Heart pounding.

Then I thought, “Should I swim out to where everyone else is on that floating platform or should I go back to shore?” I was almost exactly halfway between them. Then I realized that if I were to get to the floating platform, sooner or later I’d have to swim back to shore, and the next time, I just might not make it, so I decided to move toward the shore instead.

Good thinking. Slowly swishing my hands and arms and feet, I kept moving toward the shore, floating on my back, until I could feel the bottom of the lake beneath my very tip-toes at last. It seemed like it took me a very long time to get to where I was. I was still pretty far from the shore, but now that  I could barely touch the bottom, I stopped there and rested, throwing my head back and gasping and gasping and gasping for air. And spitting out that gross water. Safe at last.

After several minutes, I was finally strong enough to propel myself back to the shore. I didn’t go back into the water that day.

You know what the amazing thing was? No one noticed that I was in trouble. My friends were too busy playing in the water, diving off the platform, laughing and having a good time to notice that I was struggling.

The other amazing thing was that I learned a valuable life-lesson that day: that if I had panicked, I would certainly have drowned.

This applies to our present-day situation as well, with this coronavirus pandemic sweeping across our world.

I went to Walmart a few weeks ago. A woman in the checkout lane ahead of me had a whole cart full of toilet paper. I said, “I’m not buying into that bullshit,” and she replied, “Oh, me neither; I was just out of toilet paper.” I thought, “Uh huh. When I’m out of toilet paper, I buy a whole cartload of it too…”

One week ago, I was in the grocery store and the shelves were picked bare of toilet paper, paper towels, tissue, hand sanitizer, disinfecting wipes, soap, dry rice and beans, and canned vegetables; and the frozen food bins were completely void of chicken! It freaking looked like a zombie-apocalypse. I have never experienced anything like this in my whole life.

Like my near-drowning experience, I see here again, that panic can lead to even worse things.

I’ve heard horror stories from all over the United States, where physical fights are breaking out between grocery-store patrons over freaking toilet paper! Come on, people! How about we consider the thought that we are all in this together? Yes, people are going to die, but people die from the flu and other things every single day. A few years ago, we had the SARS virus scare and the swine flu and the bird flu and the ebola scare and people didn’t panic like this! Maybe those diseases weren’t as contagious; I don’t know. All I know is that trampling one another like stampeding cattle causes more people to get hurt than if we were to simply slow down and think about what it is we truly need (without hoarding) and what we can do to help others. Everyone matters—from the elderly person in a nursing home to the homeless person on the street, to the pregnant woman or the families with and without children or those who are single or incarcerated, to the privileged to the underprivileged and everyone in between.

Amid all the doom and gloom, several of my neighbors have posted online that they are available to help anyone who might need food or medical supplies or that they are willing and able to help in any way possible. That’s how it should be.

I do not claim to know any of the true statistics or facts about this virus—anyway, “the facts” change daily and depending on to whom you listen. All I’m saying is that mass hysteria doesn’t help matters; it only makes things worse. Let us think clearly here. If I hadn’t done that that day, I would have certainly drowned. Let us help one another to keep our heads above water so that we don’t drown in this mass hysteria.

We will get through this TOGETHER!

 

*All photos courtesy of Pixabay

Once Again, I Have Grown As A Human Being

I am grateful for so many things, one of which was the recent privilege of experiencing an incredible opportunity that most will never know—a trip to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, where, once again, I have grown as a human being.

I’m grateful for getting to witness a severe rainstorm in Cabo; the loudest thunder and lightning I think I have ever heard; the force of the water creating raging rivers out of ordinary streets and washing away entire cars. I’m grateful for the humility this taught me.

I’m grateful for getting to witness the ocean—her majesty, her beauty and her insistence of respect for the sheer power and magnitude of the giant waves crashing on the beach like twenty locomotives roaring along on the tracks. This reinforced in me, my smallness, yet my attachment to something that is so much greater than I.

I’m grateful for bearing witness to the splendor of the rocks of Land’s End. After not having seen it for several years, I was awestruck all over again, at her magical and mystical beauty that seems surreal—like a human-made sculpture or a painting rising proudly out of the sea and overwhelming me, encouraging me like a loving mother, to pick up my pen and write again because that is respite and freedom for my soul.

Land’s End

I am grateful for our friends who invited us to spend an entire day at their home in Cabo—a home with an entire wall of windows that slid open across the whole room—to a patio with overstuffed outdoor furniture, a fire pit, hot tub, infinity pool with its own swim-up bar, and an outdoor gas grille, overlooking the turquoise waters of the Sea of Cortez. The interior of the house was like nothing I have ever seen—heavy wooden furniture, a large kitchen with an island made of more dark wood and granite countertops—three huge bedrooms, two of which had sliding doors to the backyard overlooking the ocean. And all of it in traditional Mexican style, summoning images in my mind of long-forgotten conquistadores and beautiful dark-skinned señoritas with flaming red lips and brightly-colored flowing skirts. I felt like a celebrity there.

Our friends’ house–like nothing I had ever seen before

I’m grateful for the chance to lounge in the hot, hot sun by the pool at our hotel, to float in “my” lagoon, to enjoy too many gloriously yummy chocolate pan dulces (sweet breads), too many plates of delicious thick tortilla chips and creamy guacamole, sweet Miami Vices (half strawberry daiquiri and half piña colada) and wonderful bananas, pineapples and grapefruits.

To have gotten what, to me, was one of the best rooms the small hotel has to offer—not because it really is the best room, but because, to me, it is—with a large patio for sunbathing each morning, my body soaking in the healing golden sun of Mexico, while enjoying an unobstructed view of Land’s End (if there are no cruise ships blocking the view).

I’m grateful for the friends I have, most of whom I was unable to hook up with or was only able to see for a few moments because I arrived there much later than most of them and they already had plans in place. Still—seeing their beautiful faces, looking into their beautiful eyes, and getting long-overdue hugs, meant everything to me. These are people for whom I would do anything and vice versa. And people I would never have met if it hadn’t been for Sammy Hagar.

I am grateful to Sammy and his music, and for the opportunity to attend one of his shows while I was there because he changed my life years ago; he encouraged me to pursue my dream of being a writer and to never give up.

Sammy Hagar and Jerry Cantrell

I am grateful to those who purchased a copy of my book “Dance of the Electric Hummingbird” because it has been a labor of love, one that Sammy once called, “your baby,” because he gets it. The book is now out of print, except for a few remaining copies,* so the ones I have in boxes in my basement, are all that I have left of the dream that I wanted so badly to share with others. There is a piece of one’s soul that goes into creating art—all the time, energy, personal pain and joy, money, etc. Most artists don’t make enough money to support themselves on the sale of their art—we do it because we must; there is no conscious choice in the matter, so when someone purchases your art, it connects creator and observer together on a soul level, and that has value far beyond monetary.

My visit to Cabo went by much too fast, just as my life is going by much too fast. But the older I get, the more I appreciate all that I have and know–and each day, I strive even harder, to be at least a tiny speck of love and light to others.

As I returned home the other day, I attended a memorial service for a friend who was killed in a motorcycle accident a month ago. She was much too young—had everything to live for, and was one of the kindest, gentlest, most loving and giving people I have ever known.

And I realize that what I am most grateful for, is to have awoken this morning so that I may live another day, to hopefully get to experience another Thanksgiving and another Christmas with my family and friends, or even just to hang out on ordinary days, simply being with them and taking in all the beauty that surrounds me, in the small things, in places I’ve been and in the people I love because one thing I know for sure–love is all that matters. 

For these and for each new day, I am most grateful.

*ebook version still available here: Dance of the Electric Hummingbird

or signed by the author copies here: Author Signed Copy DEH

Guest Appearance on Twin Flame Divine Fire Radio Show this Sunday!

Author Patricia Walker is honored to announce her appearance on Twin Flame Divine Fire Radio show this Sunday, April 23, 2017 from 11:00 am – 1:00 pm. MT.

Hope you’ll join us!

For info, please click here: Twin Flame Divine Fire Radio Show

From their website:

Twin Flame Divine Fire Radio Show on Truth Frequency Radio

Sandra and Alan are dedicated to having guests on that enhance spiritual tools available in a variety of healing areas and teaching tools of which music plays a big part! They also bring guests on from the secular world who are making a difference around the globe with their special gifts of music, writing and various healing modalities just to name a few. It is designed to be lighthearted and fun but informative!

Truth Frequency Radio is a team of individuals focused on expanding the consciousness of humanity by shining the light in the darkness. We are here to promote love, unity, and respect for every human being, as we combat and expose the elements that systematically divide and enslave mankind. While our opinions may sometimes be the opposite of one another, the foundation and goals upon which we stand are always aimed at forging a better world for the next generation.

Truth Frequency Radio was established on November 5, 2009 (remember, remember, the “Fifth Of November”) and has since operated on a 100% listener supported basis with continual growth and evolution. We do not censor, regulate, or micro-manage the content on our airwaves, therefore the views and opinions expressed on TFR are of those who make them. We do however ask that our team minimizes foul-language in order to keep our station classy and safe enough to listen at work or school.

Our promise to you is that you will always be able to trust what you hear on our station.

We are TFR. Your protection from deception.

Tune in and support Twin Flame Divine Fire Radio Show every Sunday 11am – 1pm mst:

http://truthfrequencyradio.com/listen-live/
http://truthfrequencyradio.com/iheartradio/
http://truthfrequencyradio.com/chat/

New Podcast Interview!

The Daily Author LogoWooden Pants Network Logo

Please check out my latest interview on Richard Keller’s “The Daily Author” where Rich asks me about my book, Dance of the Electric Hummingbird, my upcoming appearance in Denver on April 9 for the Denver Near Death Studies Group, Sammy Hagar‘s role in all of this, The Monroe Institute and much more!

Thank you, Rich, for this honor.

Listen/download on Blog Talk Radio

Listen/download on TuneIn

 

Another Name for Fear

fear-245514_640

I’m tired of living in fear.

I was taking a shower recently, when suddenly, those words popped into my mind. It was almost as if someone had whispered them into my ear, as if it were a new concept I’d never considered before, and my brain took the notion and ran with it. Thoughts tumbled out of me faster than the warm water washing over my skin—all the ways I lived in fear, commencing with my childhood religious lessons, which, incidentally, probably effected my psyche more than just about anything, beginning with the ubiquitous FEAR THE LORD which absolutely HAD to be at the very top of my list.

And then came:
fear of failure
fear of terrorist attacks
and tornados, earthquakes, floods and fires;

fear of having my identity stolen
fear of being in a car accident
of being alone
or misunderstood;

fear of having people know too much about me because they might not like me if they knew the real me,
fear of thinking that my health issues are with me forever just because I’ve had some of them for a very long time;

fear of not being in control
of pissing people off
fear of not having enough money,

fear of not being an effective teacher, speaker, guide, writer,
of not being a good enough wife, mom, grandma, sister, daughter, friend, citizen…

And as these fears tumbled out of my brain, my brain also said, Damn! Do I really have that many fears inside of me? I was under the impression that I’d been doing a pretty good job of managing my fears, my limiting beliefs, but apparently, there are things still imbedded deep in my soul that continue to have me by the throat. And I bet if I thought about it even a little bit longer, I could come up with a whole bunch more.

No wonder I feel like I’ve got one foot nailed to the floor; my fear is keeping me from moving forward. Believe it or not, there is also the fear of achieving one’s goals; I could probably add that one to my list as well. You know, because if you achieve your goals, what then? You’ll be a different person! You’ll have responsibilities you never knew existed! It’s safer and less-stressful to remain miserable.

Well, I’m tired of living in fear. It is not serving me. It has no positive ramifications. Anthony Robbins said, “Life is found in the dance between your deepest desire and your greatest fear.”

I love that quote. To me, that almost makes it sound as if fear and desire are made of the same stuff—just on opposite ends of the spectrum—and could very well be true. They are, perhaps, two flavors of the same sweetness, which is why it seems there’s a fine line between the desire to do something that elicits fear, in spite of the fact that it is terribly exciting—and the ability to exhibit self-control no matter how tempting the sweet, because in the end, the long-term payoff (living in fear) is sweeter than the temporary desire. And by desire here, I mean the desire to achieve your goal, or your lifelong dreams.

How can fear be sweeter than doing something one desires? Desire, combined with fear, is exhilarating, enticing. Which is why people do stuff like jump out of airplanes, go bungee-jumping or parasailing, ride rollercoasters, drive fast cars, etc. because it’s an acceptable way of doing something that goes against our better judgment of remaining safe at all costs. Under normal conditions, it’s against the law to drive too fast, to jump off a bridge or a mountain because if any of these things were done without safety gear, the result, obviously, is death.

Like desire, fear is intoxicating, but it is also suffocating. Fear seduces us with its lies, then slithers into our minds like a serpent made of black smoke, then it smothers us. Like smoking, or a drug, it feels so fine as we suck it into our lungs and blow it out–in and out, in and out–and all the while thinking it’s comforting us, but before we know it, it rules us. Fear is a rotten, lying, deceitful drug addiction, and I’m so angry with myself for allowing it to control me all these years.

Not any more, baby.

From now on, I choose to use fear, not as a means to cause me to freeze in my tracks, to back off, or to run and hide, but as an opportunity to look at things from a new perspective. I’m going to use fear as a signal that I need to change my thoughts, my beliefs and my emotions instead of allowing them to control me.

I’m going to use my fear to change my life for the better. Methinks it will be a lifelong process, but then, that’s what life is for—learning and growing, and sharing what we’ve learned.

Cheers.

Bruce Moen Introduces His Afterlife Workshop in Short Video

In preparation for our upcoming–and tremendously exciting! workshop with the fascinating and multi-talented, author, speaker and time/space-and-other-levels-of-consciousness traveler, Mr. Bruce Moen, Bruce has prepared a short video giving viewers a glimpse of what we’ll be doing at his “Exploring the Afterlife” workshop April 22-24 in Fort Collins, CO.

Wait ’til you see this!!!

If you haven’t yet signed up for this workshop, I encourage you to do so soon, as there is a lot of interest and space is limited, so we are filling up quickly!

To register, please click here: Moen Workshop

Exploring the Afterlife Workshop with Bruce Moen

Afterlife Knowledge Graphic EXPLORING THE AFTERLIFE WORKSHOP 
With metaphysical author & lecturer
Bruce Moen

(All techniques learned in this workshop have even greater benefits than just connecting with the Afterlife–they serve as a vehicle to expanding one’s awareness in order to live more fully and consciously in everyday situations.)

April 22-24, 2016
Courtyard by Marriott

1200 Oakridge Drive
Fort Collins, CO 80525

To register for the workshop ($250), please click here:


**You are responsible for making your own hotel room reservation. Hotel serves breakfast, lunch and dinner on site, and is within walking distance to other restaurants and shopping. Your workshop fee includes lunch on April 23 and 24. You are on your own for breakfast and dinner those days.** Click here for hotel reservations: Courtyard Marriott

Listen to Bruce describe the workshop and answer questions from callers about what happens in the Afterlife in these two recent interviews:

and

BRUCE MOEN is the author of Voyages Into the Unknown, Voyage Beyond Doubt, Voyages Into the Afterlife, Voyage to Curiosity’s Father, and Afterlife Knowledge Guidebook

Aboutbruce moen Bruce: 

Bruce Moen is a lot like you. He’s never had a near-death experience, nor does he claim any special psychic gift or ability. Yet, he’s learned to do some special things. He has freed “lost souls” from their isolated, sometimes terrifying post-death existence; helped them regain free will choice over their own destiny; brought comfort to those left behind when a loved one dies; moved earthbound ghosts to their place in the Afterlife; verifiably explored nonphysical human consciousness and other realities.

Afterlife exploration has profoundly changed his life. It’s taught him what Love is and shown him the purpose of his life. Through his website, his books and tapes, and his workshops, Bruce is sharing a continuing journey of discovery that began in 1992 at The Monroe Institute. It was there he first learned to explore the Afterlife during Lifeline, a program developed by noted out-of-body traveler and author, Robert A. Monroe.

   WORKSHOP DESCRIPTION

This workshop teaches a system of simple concepts, techniques and exercises anyone can use to explore beyond the boundaries of physical reality, including our afterlife. It’s a mix of sharing insights gained from Bruce’s experiences, lecture, discussion and group exercises. This is a hands-on workshop in which you’ll learn by doing. And it’s an opportunity to meet others who share your interests. In addition to about twelve hours of classroom format instruction, time is allotted for open discussion.

Using the Art of Retrieval as a means of learning to make contact and communicate with those living in the Afterlife, you’ll learn to make contact with nonphysical Helpers; you might call them guides, angels, or some other name. You’ll learn how to work with Helpers to perform retrievals of those who get stuck after death. In your interactions with Helpers and those who are stuck you will begin to learn, firsthand, more about the structure and inner workings of human afterlife existence. Continuing to work with Helpers, you’ll learn how to explore the areas of our afterlife Bruce has written about in his books. And, you can use what you learn to explore any reality or dimension that exists beyond our physical world. Workshop participants routinely contact and communicate with the deceased and have their experiences verified as accurate and real during the workshop.

Afterlife, Bruce Moen, Workshop, Connect with Afterlife, Altered States of Consciousness

Workshop Topics

  • How to explore nonphysical realities including the afterlife
  • Imagination as a means of perception
  • The role of pretending and fantasy in real perception
  • Am I making it all up? How to tell if it’s real
  • The Interpreter & Perceiver, the Balance leading to perception and memory
  • Affirmations & Placing Intent
  • What to do about doubt
  • The role of Beliefs, Doubt & Identity in perception
  • How integration of experience leads ever widening perception
  • Changing and replacing perception-blocking beliefs
  • The role of Love in perception & exploration
  • Methods of exploration: Dreams, OBE & Focused Attention
  • A map of afterlife consciousness
  • Retrieval, what it is and why it’s sometimes necessary
  • Helpers, who they are and how to contact them
  • How contact and gather verifiable information from specific deceased individuals
  • Guidelines for the Novice Ghostbuster
  • The role of Pure Unconditional Love in expanding awareness
  • Curiosity, coincidence and guidance

—From http://www.afterlife-knowledge.com/

“In every workshop some participants experience direct, validated communication with a deceased person.”

For testimonials from previous participants, click here: Moen Workshop Testimonials

WORKSHOP SCHEDULE (Subject to change)

Friday, April 22, 2016:
6:00 pm – 8:00 pm
Informal meet-and-greet with Bruce and other participants in hotel lobby/bistro area. Food and drinks may be purchased at the hotel bistro, which also features Starbucks Coffee.

Saturday, April 23, 2016:
8:00 am – 6:00 pm
Hands-on instruction and lectures by Bruce with 10 minute breaks every hour and one hour break for lunch. (Lunch included in workshop price. You are on your own for breakfast and dinner. For your convenience, there’s a restaurant/bistro in the hotel.)

Sunday, April 24, 2016:
8:00 am – 6:00 pm
Hands-on instruction and lectures by Bruce with 10 minute breaks every hour and one hour break for lunch. (Lunch included in workshop price. You are on your own for breakfast and dinner. For your convenience, there’s a restaurant/bistro in the hotel.)

If you have any of Bruce’s books, please bring them to the workshop and he will be happy to autograph them for you!

Cost

$250 per person, includes lunch April 23-24 and an informal meet-and-greet with Bruce on Friday evening, April 22.

Refund Policy: Full refund if requested 30 or more days prior to event (minus $30 processing fee and PayPal fee if applicable). PayPal fee of $7.55 for $250 or $6.80 for $225 transaction.

50% refund if requested 7-29 days before event (minus $30 processing fee and PayPal fee)

No refunds within 7 days of workshop.

Bruce gives a short intro to what you’ll be learning at his workshop:

SPONSORED IN PART BY:

Rainbow Ridge Books, LLC,  who “specialize in books with a spiritual (as distinguished from religious) content, metaphysical themes, and self-help with a metaphysical twist.”

AND

frequencyRiser-Horizontal-12x150dpi copy

Optimize Mind, Body & Soul with FrequencyRiser Conscious Lifestyle Gear. FrequencyRiser.com

 

To register for the workshop, please click here:


For questions and/or other payment options, please contact Patricia Walker at info@bajarockpat.net.

Link to Facebook Event Page: Bruce Moen’s Workshop Facebook Page

Please share this link with all your friends!

 

Hope Opens Doors

 

Photo courtesy of Pixabay

Photo courtesy of Pixabay

I’ve never suffered from depression, but very recently, I found myself teetering on the edge and I wanted to share this story because lots of people suffer from depression. You see, two years ago, I had surgery on my ankle to repair a shredded posterior tibialis tendon (the tendon that goes under your arch and up the inside of your leg). It was a traumatic experience and the recovery has been long and painful.

A few weeks ago, I went back to see my doctor because I still have pain and swelling in my ankle. She told me that the surgery had obviously not accomplished what we had hoped, and asked how I felt about having more surgery, the procedure we should have done the first time, but because it was even more extensive with twice the recovery time, I opted for the less invasive one. It was now apparent that I had made the wrong choice.

Sitting there in the doctor’s office with my swollen, bare foot dangling off the edge of the table, the thought of having to undergo more surgery instantly plunged me into a suffocating darkness. I’ve had surgeries before, and my body does not take kindly to being cut on and stitched back together. It’s always a traumatic experience for me. Besides, there were no guarantees that the more extensive surgery would correct the problem either.

Returning home from my appointment, the crawling, bleeding, agonizing darkness sunk even deeper into me like thick black tar invading my soul. For days, I cried. I drank too much. I slept too much. I ate all the bad food I could get my hands on. I became lethargic. I couldn’t think. I felt very, very sorry for myself. I just knew that I was destined to be a cripple for the rest of my life. All I wanted to do was divorce myself from this rotten, messed-up body that keeps failing me. On the other hand, I had enough foresight to realize that if I didn’t watch it, I could slip into a bonafide clinical depression and I could see how easy it would be to go there, because the bad news was just one more addition to an already long list of negative and serious issues I’d been dealing with, so this new information didn’t just cause me to focus on foot surgery, it caused me to view my entire life through a lens of how terrible everything was. And I teach workshops on how to live the life of your dreams! How could I be an effective teacher if I was seeing nothing but the things that were wrong with me and my life?

But I was so down, I couldn’t see any way to pull myself out of the darkness, plus all those thoughts about not being an effective teacher only made me feel worse about myself. I needed to get my shit together somehow because I was sinking. Fast.

A friend then recommended a physical therapist in Boulder who specializes in foot and ankle issues as well as scoliosis. I knew I had scoliosis, and I wondered if perhaps that could be exacerbating my foot issues. My foot doctor concurred.

Photo courtesy of Pixabay

Photo courtesy of Pixabay

Yesterday I went to see the new PT. She looked at the x-rays of my spine—curved in two places—nice. She checked my flexibility and told me that my foot issues were likely caused by my scoliosis, and even if I were to have more surgery on my foot, it probably wouldn’t solve the problem. She said that we needed to treat the whole body–not just one area, and very likely the foot issues would resolve themselves in the process. Wait.  Seriously? A small light went on inside my heart. Was she saying there was hope?

She told me that my tendon was good and strong, which was encouraging because my initial thoughts had been that the surgery had all been for nothing–a total waste of time, money and pain. But the surgery didn’t go so far as to determine the cause, which was now becoming obvious—scoliosis was causing me to put pressure on the arch of my foot, hence the pain and swelling. Ah ha! An explanation that made sense!

The PT gave me a few suggestions to try in dealing with my posture and they helped instantly. She told me that she was optimistic that their unique program for scoliosis patients could help me live a normal life again because it had helped lots of people from all over the world. It helped my friend.

I felt hope rise inside of me like a gentle kiss of summer rain—a kind of hope that had previously seemed unlikely at best. Suddenly, the world looked brighter and all my problems, not just my foot issues, but all my problems and fears seemed manageable. Tears ran from my eyes—tears of hope that I could be pain-free again. Oh my gosh! What pure joy that would be!

Hope. Opens. Doors. Hope gives us the tools to keep going when all seems lost.

I can’t remember when I haven’t had pain, and just to have hope that that day is coming, for real this time… I can’t even begin to tell you how much this means to me, especially when I saw myself spiraling down into the quicksand of depression and all because I didn’t realize there was another option besides more excruciating surgery.

Sure, it’s easy to think positive when things are going fairly well; it’s a lot harder when suddenly the ground gets pulled out from beneath you due to the unexpected death of a loved one, a serious health issue, or any number of other things. Hope moves mountains. It gives us the strength to take another step.

Please know that no matter how terrible or dark things may seem, there’s always another option, and that’s the reason I wanted to share my story. Because although it may not always be apparent, if we keep looking and don’t give up, we will find the perfect solution, maybe something even better than we ever could have imagined and perhaps in a place we never thought to look.

There’s hope for everyone. There’s love for everyone. There are good things for everyone because there’s enough for all of us; the Universe (and our minds) are only limited by our thoughts. Please don’t ever give up.

 

You are More Than Your Physical Body

 

Salvadore DaliHave you ever had an out-of-body experience? Have you ever thought that there is more to life than what we see with our eyes? Have you ever wished to connect with like-minded individuals (in this waking state of consciousness and in other states of consciousness–without the use of drugs) to discuss your experiences and questions or to be able explore them further?

If so, please consider attending the next meeting of our group TMI of Northern Colorado on Feb. 10, 2015 from 6:30-8:30 pm. We’re a local chapter affiliated with the famous Monroe Institute, a non-profit organization based in Faber, VA, which is dedicated to exploring and expanding human consciousness.

TMI does not espouse any religion or philosophy, we only ask that you consider that you are more than your physical body.

I have twice attended six-day workshops at TMI in VA. Recap of my experiences can be found here.

Each person’s experiences will be different than those of the next person. The goal of TMI is to help you discover your own personal truths and the answers to whatever questions are most important to you. Our monthly meetings consist of the use of Hemi-Sync audio technology, group discussion, guest speakers, films and other exercises geared toward helping you reach your personal goals.

We are growing and expanding with each meeting and would love for you to join us, share your experiences or just get reinforcement in knowing that there are many, many others who share your interests and experiences.

For more information on our group, directions, etc., please visit our meetup.com page at: TMI of NoCo, or email me at info@bajarockpat.net.

Looking forward to meeting you!

**Painting by Salvador Dali