Approaching and moving through a new experience can sometimes feel as though we are blindfolded, driven out to the desert, dropped off and left to find our way home – without map or cell phone. We may end up going the wrong way, fall, scrape a knee, or twist an ankle. We may even get so frustrated that we stomp our feet, get angry and cuss at the heavens.
We may also have a completely different experience, one that is more positive. We may surrender, tune in to our Divine intuition, and ask for guidance, trusting we will be guided out of this seemingly impossible predicament. Either way, we need to stay with the process and eventually figure out when to turn right or left or when to stay straight. Whatever the choice is becomes the avenue to new insight and awareness. It is in our most desperate times that our greatest insights can bring about an expansion of consciousness.
The meaning of awareness is the receiving of knowledge we didn’t have before. Integrating this new knowledge into our being and using this precious gift – even if it is showing us things we didn’t necessarily want to know or hear – is up to us.
This new knowledge nudges our intuition to awaken to situations that can benefit us and shine a light onto situations that are not good for us. It is through our struggles that this new knowledge arrives, expanding our consciousness. It is through our persistent striving and willingness to be humble and severely honest with ourselves that the veil is pulled back a bit more for us to catch a glimpse of what we have forgotten.
I have written much about searching for the real meaning of our lives. What is it within us all that keeps us moving forward, exploring what spurs our passion and purpose?
Relationships and career are typically at the top of this search because most of us don’t want to be alone, and we do have to earn a living somehow. Wouldn’t it be easier to really get to know ourselves deep down before diving into something that could lead us down a l-o-n-g road to emptiness that feels like someone else’s dream or fantasy?
…how do we go about establishing relationships that feel right, where there is mutual respect, honor, and, for the most part, ease, and flow? How do we slip into a job that isn’t just a job but a passion that allows us to use our talents to benefit others, and in return, perform work that doesn’t drain our life force but that feeds our soul?
Knowing who we are at our core and not being afraid to examine ourselves honestly and with kindness and compassion from head to toe, inside and out, is a very important step in becoming aware of where we may need to focus our attention first. This process takes patience and a willingness to slow down enough to first examine an impulse, thought, or word before taking an action. It’s important to become conscious of how our actions, reactions and words will affect, first ourselves, and then those they are directed to. How can we learn to ask the question, “Will my actions benefit…or cause harm?”
The Chakra System is a complex network of channels that energize the body. It is much like a spiritual nervous system. I was not aware of the importance of this system until recently and will explain the significance of the lower and upper chakras and how the integration of them all can bring about physical, spiritual, and emotional well-being. It can also point out specific issues one may have if one or more chakras are under- or over-energized.
The lower chakras help us establish a connection to mother earth, creating a strong foundation so that we feel safe, secure and at home within. If we operate as if we exist only in the physical realm (demonstrated by the lower chakras), we can become attached to the material world and all that it regurgitates upon us. It can be difficult to discern truth from untruth. We may end up following a path that takes us into a deep dark forest, off a cliff, or down a dead-end road because we are either following the will of our ego or the dominant will of someone else.
But the most dis-spiriting aspect of living only in the physical world is that we are not plugged into our Divine power source. The Divine light feeds and empowers our being. Without this connection, we have no access to our intuition and guidance that comes from our connection with our spiritual home. We can become very lost, lacking direction and stability. This is not good!
On the other hand, overly developed upper chakras can make it difficult to manage in the material world. After all, we must have money, a job or someone to support our need for food and shelter. Without this support, we float, unable to make a connection with the physical realm. It may be difficult to establish long-term relationships and / or make commitments, including holding down a job. We may feel as though we are drifting.
When all our chakras are working in unison, we are one cohesive being, receiving earthly energy from below and Divine power, guidance and knowledge from above, all of which is pertinent to finding and staying on our best and highest path.
And so, how do we do all of this?
The awareness of my connection to that which is above and below was the impetus that shifted me off an errant path and onto a new path headed in a more enlightened direction. As I look back, I can see how shattered I was and had been for most of my life. Pieces of my experiences and the energy created during these experiences were floating within my energy field, holding me hostage. I did not understand or explore any of these things until I began to meditate. My foray into meditation preceded my spiritual awakening in 2013. Only then, did I begin to understand that there was more to me than what I was aware of and that I needed to place greater importance on developing my entire being – the integration of the whole me as a physical body and soul.
This dramatic shift allowed me to begin to move away from who I thought I was. It was this peeling away of the layers that allowed me to discover me as a Divine being with a purpose for being here.
The following excerpts from my book provide historical context that I believe explains how my early life informs who I am today. I am hopeful that these excerpts will do so because of what my father said to me after reading the excerpts from my book that I had included in my previous blog article, “Jagged edges”.
My father said that he had not been aware that his behavior was so completely void of nurturing and love. He was not aware that he had caused my mother, me, and my siblings so much pain. And for this, he was very sad.
These are a few of his comments to me: “As you well know, I had no feelings of love for myself and was therefore incapable of expressing any measure of external emotion. I do know I had a strong desire to provide financial support, and as I look back at my life, I am becoming aware that I had very limited parenting skills.
Your input has opened many doors that have been closed for too long. Thank you. Thank you. There is much to discuss. Your words are helping to explain what has been a mystery to me.”
During my conversations with my mother, she expressed that many of the events that took place between her and my father had never been cleared up and put to rest.
After several lengthy conversations with my father, I have concluded that he was completely unaware of how his behavior and his absence from our family affected all of us. I sense that he learned from his own parents the ways he subsequently used to parent us. He appeared to lack empathy and warmth when dealing with us because he did not receive these things from his own parents. He felt no love from either of his parents, and while they provided for all his physical needs, they showed no warmth, no affection throughout his upbringing.
He is very aware of his behavior now and feels remorse for the pain he caused us. He wants very much to make peace with all 10 of his children.
My parents’ separation and eventual divorce was like an explosion that created such disruption, it forced a dividing of my family into many pieces. This meant we would never function the same way again. For years to come, our entire family was enveloped in the energy of the initial blast as its intensity continued to encircle every aspect of our lives. This energy blast seemed to present itself at every junction and corner, and in every situation, and for a very long time.
And, now for those book excerpts I promised you:
***The trap: and she fell for it!***
It is obvious that eight of us cannot stay in a house that is suited for a maximum of two people. We need to find a new home, but where will the money come from?
Together, my mother and the Dragon Lady have found a large two-story split-level home back in Pleasant Grove for us to all move into. The Dragon Lady will be putting up the money for the down payment, and my mother will make the purchase. The Dragon Lady has filed for divorce from husband number three and will be moving in with all of us.
I was not aware of this financial arrangement until very recently. As I look back at this now, in my mind, this transaction was an agreement made with the devil, one full of strings (or handcuffs), some serious manipulation, and a whole lot of drama! My mother was very vulnerable, and this trap she fell into lasted for many years, causing great agony and suffering for us all.
***Unusual home, family structure, and way of life***
Once again, my younger sister and I are banished to the basement of this split-level house. The house has only two finished bedrooms upstairs, one of which is for my oldest and youngest sisters. My mother and the Dragon Lady shared the other bedroom. This is very confusing to me, and I am too intimidated to ask questions. I suppose I really don’t want to know the truth because that would make their unique relationship real.
Their relationship is an ongoing topic of conversation between me and my siblings, and while we talk about it amongst ourselves, that’s as far as it goes. I think we all understand what is going on; we just don’t want to know for sure. Instinctually, we are all being driven by self-preservation, and this causes a fair amount of rivalry among all of us kids.
The kitchen and dining area are sufficient. A small deck with steps leads to a large grassy backyard that we accessed through the dining room sliding door.
The house has one small bathroom for seven of us…Argh!
The bedroom my younger sister and I share is unfinished, with a concrete floor and unpainted drywall. No wall provides privacy for anyone coming down the stairs, and once again, we glue multi-colored shag carpet squares down on the floor to provide a covering. Yes, this seems to be a repeating theme. We hang an old white sheet as a curtain in the large window. No frills for this bedroom! However, it is, in many respects, way better than where we came from. And so, we make do.
The area we move to is residential on one side and with many homes, neighbors, horse pastures, and farmland on the other. We are now a thirty-minute walk to the downtown area; the church we will attend is a few blocks away and so is our new school. I will be in fifth grade starting in late August, and, with great anxiety, once again, I await the beginning of school number seven.
The heat of my parents’ divorce and the constant fighting between them is disconcerting and confusing to all of us kids. Their words are like fire, burning within them and then pouring out of them, scorching all around them. The Dragon Lady’s presence and intemperate personality act as an accelerant.
Because two of my brothers are several years older than me, they are free to come and go. They are also difficult to discipline, and with a mother who is never home, trouble is not far away. I am disconnected from a lot of what is going on around me. This feels so strange to me.
As my mother and I collaborate on my book, we have many conversations in which she shares things that I have no recollection of. Our family was so fragmented: We lived together, but we were all in our bubbles doing our best to find our way. Writing about this and exploring memories, or lack thereof, has shown me how unaware of my surroundings I was. I can see now that most of my energy was being focused on my survival. And I remained in that state for many years!
***Life must go on***
My mother must find work that will support the needs of our large family. She takes a variety of jobs, first working at a hospital cleaning the operating rooms. The work is draining and unfulfilling, and she is lucky to land a job as an insurance agent. She has been doing well and coming up to her one-year mark. In fact, she is going to be given an award at a luncheon the company is holding. She is asked to make a speech and is excited, but…The day this is to take place is the same day her divorce is being finalized. She must show up to court. Subsequently, she is fired for not attending!
Life must go on, so she soon finds work at an explosives plant. The atmosphere is dominated by men, but the pay is good. She remains there for several years.
She is gone from home a lot of the time, and when she is home, she spends most of her time in her bedroom – sequestered away from us kids and guarded by the Dragon Lady, who acts as a gatekeeper. She continuously blocks us kids from seeing and talking with our mother. The Dragon Lady is a large, loud, stocky, authoritative woman with a booming voice. In other words, most unpleasant. She is jealous and immature and does her best to keep our mother away from us and to herself.
Looking back now, I can see that my mother wanted to keep the peace between us kids and the Dragon Lady and therefore allowed herself to be steamrolled over and over. She replaced one position of being dominated with another – from being left to deal with all the responsibility of us kids, the house and school stuff while her husband took all the credit and none of the blame to being restrained and under the thumb of the Dragon Lady who wrested all control of the household away from her. She had gone from the frying pan directly into a blazing fire! I can see clearly now where I learned the inability to create boundaries and to say, “NO!”
We soon find that the Dragon Lady is a very heavy drinker, invariably carrying a paper bag with a bottle or can in it around with her most of the time, including when she is driving. Very quickly, we also discover that she suffers from multiple personality disorder. We never know from one day to the next who we will be running into. This is something none of us kids has any experience with or knowledge of. Soon, we will be experiencing more in our forced relationship with this woman than we have ever bargained for.
***Time is constant; it doesn’t speed up or slow down…and that’s a problem***
School starts, keeping me and my sisters busy with our new schedules. Friction arises, especially between me and my older sister. She is jealous, of what I have no idea, but she has a mean streak, and I seem to bring it out in her. But overall, I am lucky to have all three of my sisters around. It is comforting to have someone to walk to school with, cook with, and commiserate with. We don’t always get along, but we support one another as best we can under the circumstances.
School continues to be agonizing for me. I feel awkward and gawky; my hair is always such a problem for me because of my kinky curls. Why can’t it be straight like all the other girls’? Even my sisters’ hair! I am also forced to share clothes with two of my sisters, having to wear the same things over and over.
Luckily, I have made a few friends and even develop a crush on a boy in my class. Square dancing is one of the activities we do during PE. I have been trying to get this boy’s attention so that he will dance with me, but he just smiles at me…doesn’t get that I like him.
One of my new friends becomes my best friend for several years. We are an odd pair; she is an ugly duckling and awkward herself, but we bond when we meet. If I didn’t have her as a friend, I don’t know how I can manage to get through the agony of school. The summer after fifth grade, my friend’s parents invite me to be a companion to their daughter on a trip to California to go to Disney Land and Sea World. Her mother even buys us matching outfits – yellow shorts and a matching halter top. “If my father could see me now, he would definitely disapprove!”
When I start my period the first day of sixth grade, my friend is there for me. I am horrified and think it to be the most dreadful curse one can ever experience. I am in denial. I do not take this new development well. During this time, my grandmother has been visiting, and she is the one who tells my mother that I have begun menstruating. I am too ashamed and embarrassed to tell my mom myself. Every month I experience my period as difficult and painful, and the other signs of my developing body are no picnic either.
One time, I even upset my friend when I give her a bra (I took from my sister’s drawer?). She wears it to school, stuffed with tissues. Everyone in the class notices the unnatural bulges that were not there yesterday and begin to comment. She and I adjourn to the girls’ room, where she removes the bra, and I flush it down the toilet. Such is the life of a pre-adolescent without benefit of advice from her mother!
This was the beginning of a long road that featured emotional and physical health issues related to being female. I had denied and rejected my femininity, my inner goddess, and my ability to be creative. Yes, I did bear two children, but it took me many years to figure out that I had stuffed the creative aspect of my being deep down into my psyche. This denial of my physical ability to have children represented by my period, as well as the creative aspects of my spirit to which it connected, eventually resulted in my having to have a hysterectomy. Fortunately, the creative parts of me remained in me and were to come to the surface years later. Once I reconnected with my inventive spirit, I would come to see what that denial of myself had done to me…but also for me. More on this later…
My exaggerated sense of longing for someone to come and take me away is the only thing that keeps alive a tiny glimmer of hope that things will get better. I feel such jealousy toward girls my age who, to me, seem to have a perfect life: A mother who tended to the home, regular family dinners, vacations and outings, fashionable clothing, normalcy! I want normal so bad, I can taste it. I fantasize about it.
It’s now October, and I am turning 11. My mother and the Dragon Lady have gone deer hunting, and I have no one to celebrate my birthday, no one to put together a birthday party. But my grandmother’s package arrives just in time to save the day. The package is full of fudge, divinity, and cookies, all homemade. She is my saving grace, and she knows what I like. Most importantly, she has remembered!
She used to visit our Salt Lake home, and we would have our special time. She would put my wet hair up in pin curls, and once my hair was dry, she would brush each curl into ringlets. When she does this, it makes me so happy to think that someone has paid attention to me. Now that we have moved, she doesn’t come often, presumably because of the Dragon Lady. When she does come visit, she is polite but keeps her distance – especially with respect to the Dragon Lady. This is difficult for her and my mother’s father to swallow.
Christmas comes, and my father has since become involved with the woman whose home he has been working on throughout the summer and into the fall. She has five children and is pregnant with number six when my father begins dating her. It is not his child, but he feels a strong sense that he is meant to step in and be the father for this new child.
I am invited up to their house during Christmas break. The house is in Salt Lake in a canyon above the University of Utah. It has been snowing, and the mounds up the canyon are about three to four feet high. A long steep driveway winds down from the road to the house, and so all the groceries and supplies must be taken down on a toboggan. We leave the cars parked at the top on the road. Having grown up in the snow, I am used to adventures like this, and I spend a good amount of time in the snow that weekend getting to know my father’s new replacement family.
Here is what I observe: The house is in disarray. It is unfinished and worn, and the furniture is a hodgepodge. The kitchen is extremely cluttered; dirty dishes load the counters, so there is barely space to place anything down on them. Initially, the kids seem okay: four boys, the oldest being my age, and one girl. They are hillbilly-like to me and have terrible manners: sloppy eaters, sloppy everything. By the time I leave, I am not sure what’s worse, this place or home,
My father and his soon-to-be wife have decided to marry on January 24, 1974 (just a very short time after my parents’ divorce has been finalized). Her unborn child now has a new daddy! The baby ends up having sever kidney issues, requiring extensive medical care, multiple surgeries, and a whole lot of attention.
***The continuation of crazy***
So many things happen over the next year and a half. We experience the Dragon Lady’s manic-depressive behavior as if we are trying to prepare for our worst nightmare, again and again. She vacillates between the personality of an immature child and a raving lunatic, and we kids do our best to stay clear of her but are not always successful. I rarely have friends over because I am too embarrassed, and mostly, they don’t want to come. On one occasion I have a friend spend the night, and we chat away until very late. The Dragon Lady’s bedroom is directly above mine, and she stomps on the floor several times to get us to quiet down. A little bit later, she comes barreling down the stairs with a pitcher of water and throws it at my friend and me, dowsing us both, as well as a picture on the wall above my bed. The picture, and my friendship, are ruined!
On many occasions, my mother tries to get away, but each time, the Dragon Lady does something bad to herself, resulting in her having to be rushed to the hospital. This leaves my mother no choice but to bring her back home; we kids are infuriated every time.
I am only 11. How can I get away? Where would I go? As often as I can, I stay with friends, forcing myself to eat dinner there and even occasionally sleep over just to avoid being at home. I do this often enough that my friends’ parents are now on to me.
***My apprehension upon beginning junior high***
I am alone as I walk up the concrete steps to the junior high school on my first day. It is 1974, and I am 12 years old. My parents are divorced now, and this makes me feel even weirder because it is so unusual in this town and at this time. Chaos reigns at home – no structure, no regular family meals, shared clothing with my two sisters – all of us just trying to survive.
As I walk into my school, I am wondering what the day will bring. Will I attempt to stand in class or raise my hand to share, only to hear a derogatory remark from a student at what I say? Will I be told, “No, that isn’t the answer!”? I am filled with anxiety and am so sensitive that if anyone says “Boo!” to me, I will probably cry. This is now school number eight.
Because this is junior high and not grade school, many students are much older than I am. They have been here longer and know the ropes. The only friend I have is also attending this school, but she doesn’t have the same classes or lunch period I do. I am heading there now and wonder if I will find someone to sit next to, so I don’t have to sit alone…drawing more attention to myself. As it happens, I sit alone.
In PE class, what activity will I have to participate in today? Will I be able to do what is asked of me? Will the instructor choose an activity where teams are picked, and no one picks me? That’s usually what happens, and it makes me not want to try to do my best.
I can hear the teacher’s whistle blow for me to step back or to repeat the exercise again, all under my classmates’ watchful, critical, and impatient eyes. They are just waiting for me to fail, so they can kick me off their team and get on with the activity.
As I head to the locker room to change, I find that we are required to shower before leaving the gym. I am mortified and wonder if I can somehow avoid having to strip down and take a shower in front of all the other girls. I wrap myself in the towel, sliding my gym clothes off beneath, and stick my legs and feet into the shower so it looks as though I have completed the job. I see other girls doing the same, so I think I am clear.
My trepidation for school, and now, junior high, has reached an extreme level. School is not getting better; it is getting much harder to navigate. I am so uncomfortable being here, I want to crawl out of my skin and under a rock. Anyone who looks at me intimidates me. I don’t know how long I will be able to endure this.
The teachers seem focused on getting through their lessons and pay the most attention to the kids who are quick to respond to their questions. I fall behind because I can’t speak up for myself. I am confused and don’t know how to ask for help. I know I’m not stupid, but they are moving way too fast for me.
I constantly do my best to keep the house as clean as I can. I am very sensitive and demoralized by my living circumstances. I sense that cleaning is my way of clearing the energy for myself and making it possible for me to live in “that house”.
It is extremely important to me that everyone on the outside not see what is going on on the inside. And just as I don’t want others to know what is going on inside my house, I don’t want them to see what’s going on inside of me. More to the point, I don’t have words to explain it adequately. When I try, I end up driving people away. Do I tell or keep my life a secret? I am not good at keeping secrets.
***The last straw for me***
Winter’s coming, and the gas company must come to light the furnace pilot. The Dragon Lady instructs me to stay home from school today so that I can be home to let the gas company in. To her face, I tell her “Yes,” and when she leaves for work, I get ready and head for school anyway. I am very angry about being put in this situation. She doesn’t ask me; she tells me, and this infuriates me.
I am in my PE class, struggling to climb the rope, our exercise for that period, when I hear the other girls in my class start to whisper and then gasp. This breaks my concentration, and I fall to the floor, get up, and turn around to see what they are whispering about. This is when I see the Dragon Lady barreling into the gym. My heart leaps into my throat as I try to prepare myself for what I know is coming. There is no time to run!! She walks over to me angrily, yells at me, slaps me on my behind, grabs my right arm, and yanks me hard, pulling me out of the gym, screaming the whole way out, “How dare you disobey me!”
As if in all my 12 years I haven’t been humiliated enough, this experience is the tainted frosting on that cake! I want so much to keep the deep dark secrets of my homelife from the outside world, especially from my classmates, and now they all know. I am barely hanging on and then…
***What? I’m the devil!?***
It’s Christmastime, and the year is 1974. We have a silver tinsel tree with red bulbs, gold lights and a few ornaments, and I think it’s beautiful and never want to take it down.
Even through all this shit, I still love Christmas. The lights on people’s houses, the decorations, the presents…all the accoutrement of Christmas. It certainly isn’t as grand as what I remember from when we lived in Salt Lake, but I still look forward to the holidays.
Christmas is over, and I am walking home from a church function just a few blocks from my home. I cut through the back side of an apartment complex and notice a real tree with white flocking lying on the ground next to the dumpsters, awaiting its fate. To my 12-year-old eyes it is beautiful, and I want it!
I pick it up and drag it across the field that separates my home from the dumpsters. I am not sure what I am going to do with it, so I drag it up onto the back porch and go inside. My mother and the Dragon Lady have been out and arrive home just as it gets dark. The Dragon Lady has been drinking…again, so I duck into my bedroom as she comes in the front door. I hear her setting her things down as she walks into the kitchen. She has turned on the light, and through the sliding glass door, she spots the beautiful flocked tree lying on the porch.
Suddenly, I hear her yelling, “Who brought this fucking tree home and left it on our back porch?” My heart stops and my skin bristles. I cautiously come upstairs just as she is dragging the tree down the porch steps and into the backyard. She is screaming as she lights the tree on fire. She addresses me, “You are the devil!”
Inside, I’m thinking, “I’m the devil? I’ll show you the devil!” I kick her cat down those same porch steps. The cat is dead (whether by my actions or as the result of something else doesn’t really matter to me in this moment).
To this day I pray I wasn’t responsible for killing her cat, the cat, any cat. But I was so outraged and shocked by her behavior, I couldn’t help my reaction. And as I write about this, I am laughing at how ridiculous her reaction was. I also now realize that what I was witnessing was absolute insanity! In a recent conversation, my mother told me that I did not kill the cat. The cat’s body was found later with a bullet in its head. She told me it was a neighbor who was cruel to all the animals in the neighborhood. I was horrified to hear this all these years later but also relieved that it wasn’t me after all!
After this event, I finally have had enough. Out of desperation, I make the decision to go live with my father, his new wife and their six children. I will begin a new school in the middle of the year!
After all, how much worse could things get…
***July 4, 2020, reflecting back to July 4, 2013***
Seven years ago today the trajectory of my life changed dramatically. The prior 50 years finally caught up with me: In the aggregate, it was a lot of feeling abandoned, and disconnected, and helpless to pull myself out of the heaviness I had succumbed to. I saw before me a new and exciting direction. I felt as though I had been struck by lightning. The room was spinning, and I had to lie down. I knew something big was taking place; I just wasn’t sure what it all meant and how it would manifest itself.
This was my spiritual awakening, timed perfectly! And in writing my story, in speaking with my parents, I have come to understand why it all had to be this way. This is good because I have asked myself and God, “Why?” my entire life. Now I am more at peace about it all.
As I lay on my yoga mat a few nights ago, I felt so connected to my younger self in a way I had never been before. I could feel my younger self’s pain, her anguish, her fear, and I could also feel her will to live, her perseverance, and the light within her that kept (and still keeps) her moving forward. She was (is) indomitable in the face of anything or anyone that tries to derail her.
Remembering, re-experiencing and writing about the worst parts of my life has brought me to the most profound level of healing, welding my body, mind, and spirit together and bringing all of me to the Angels and to God. No one could have told me these things; I had to experience them to understand them, learn from them and become empowered by them. I had to see the contrast of what the material world offers versus what is possible when you surrender in your faith. This is the most powerful place to be because you have the Divine on all sides of you.
Continual cultivation of a relationship through meditation and surrender of your will to that of the Divine is the way to receive this power, strength, knowledge, and guidance. Faith and trust in what is possible is what gets you through the bad times, especially the times when you feel trapped and are wondering how to get out. Taking the incremental steps to build your faith and surrender to a Higher Power is the work that gets you there. Difficult as it may be, to experience the darkness, heaviness, bitterness and anger (and re-experience it in reflecting on our past) is to prepare ourselves for the sweetness of the rewards we reap on the other side.
In the end (and I am certainly not done by any means) things in my life have become much less complicated, much more manageable, and much less painful and scary – because I surrender to the Divine and ask to be shown the Divine’s will for me.
It doesn’t matter what this world throws my way because I have the power and strength of the Divine at my back, always… And so, do you!
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References to healing or treatments in a session, call and / or any correspondence between me and you (the client or client representative) are describing faith-based blessings and are always performed by God and the Master Healing Angels, not by me nor any affiliate of CMA International Foundation, nor the Church of the Master Angels. Neither CMA International Foundation, the Church of the Master Angels, nor any of their affiliates, speakers or representatives, offer medicine or medical advice, and they are not medical organizations or doctors.
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