Grace State

I took a big step the other day.

I made business cards that described myself as “Intuitive, Healer, Psychologist.”

I’m not quite sure what comes next; I’m going off of an “if you build it, they will come” modus operandi. But now that I’m living in Kauai with more space and freedom to build a new life, it seems time to open myself up to beginning to do intuitive readings for people in a more formal capacity. Then wait to see what manifests.

Kind of like this entire move to Hawaii. I felt called to go; it took a lot of work to get here; I got myself here; and now I am here, waiting to see what manifests.

It is hard to live life having faith in what you cannot see: faith in a soul journey, faith in what is not visible to the eyes, faith that there are forces that compel and draw and push and support us. Faith that Love is the agent binding it all together, even when we don’t always see the evidence of love, but we keep showing up and trying to choose it anyways.

Faith in that which is unseen, but is there regardless of lack of sight. Guiding us along our paths, helping us become the person we are meant to become, revealing itself in so many ways for those who choose to believe.

This move to Kauai is a journey of faith. It is a journey that started long before my brother passed, but was indelibly kicked into high gear after his passing: my fear and doubts and what if’s stripped from me, as I began to live life from a state of grace realizing that all of it is a gift.

Precious, short, finite. Meant to be embraced sooner rather than later.

Last summer, I was writing about that gift, living in that grace state, preparing my manuscript for Lamentations of the Sea, embracing one last summer in Alaska, mentally readying myself for a final year in the state before I took my leap of faith.

This summer, I made the leap, and I write these words from the lanai as the sun stirs the treetops, and the song birds sing of rainbow showers, and the noises of the jungle clamor and combine in green harmony.

I met a neighbor a stones throw down yesterday. Out walking the dogs for a sunrise walk, she and I got to chatting. And it was a delightful surprise- yet no surprise at all really for these things tend to happen over here- when she asked about my line of work. As soon as I began to share about expanding into intuitive work, she shared she was an intuitive. Ran a radio show in California for 20 years doing call-in readings, still works with clients.

She said she’d been watching my aura walk past every morning and had been wondering if I knew I had the gift. We had the kind of conversation you can only have when you’ve found somebody who speaks your language. Where words like soul paths and divine feminine and twin flames were flying around in a happy melody of agreement, purpose, and accordance.

I finished my walk in joyful assurance. I am in the right place. Following my heart’s path. Even if it hasn’t fully unfolded yet.

And in the meantime, I am finding my way here.

Learning that the beach at sunrise is the place to be. Learning the soft songs of the palms and the fronds and the trees. Letting the rain, which likes to burst forth at unexpected times, wash away the sorrow I still carry from my grief over my brother.

Letting myself age backwards, reconnecting with joy and play and rainbows- life is too brief not to cherish the childlike things that bring happiness. Dipping my toes into island life, learning how to fully swim.

Keeping the faith that the universe fully supports me, that I have been led here for a reason, that all will unfold exactly as it should in its own time.

Waiting to see what manifests.

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