Living My Truth

Living My Truth

Being a full time caregiver has its challenges. Lack of sleep. Lack of personal time. Occasional lack of sanity. Still, I am fortunate. My mother is easy to love. At 98 yrs. old, she’s less than 5 feet tall; weighs 110 pounds; wears her wavy white hair cropped short; and is always ready with a smile and a song.

Lately, her footing is uncertain and I am not comfortable leaving her alone. Even when we’re together, I have an ear out in case she falls. She has several times.

Nights are another matter. Earlier this week she woke me because she had trouble breathing. Another night she had severe mystery pains. Another, she couldn’t sleep.

I pay attention when she’s out of sorts. It could be serious. How serious? Good question. I try to deal with whatever is in front of me and hope I make the right judgment call.

Take last night. At 11:30 pm she said, “I’ve been having chest pains all day long.”

“You’re just telling me that now?” I replied, my stomach in knots. I took a moment to regroup and said, “Here are your choices. We can get dressed and go to the emergency room, or you can go to bed and give dad my love if you see him.”

Mom chose bed, and in the morning she was fine. No mention of chest pains. Danger averted.

I feel like I have one hand paused to dial 911, while the other explores a growing arsenal of medicine, herbs, essential oils, pain-relief creams, hands-on-healing, dialogues with healing angels, positive affirmations, heating pads, humidifiers, pillows, and anything I can think of to comfort her. The top of her dresser looks like an apothecary store.

A Twist of Fate

In a twist of fate, two years ago both mom and I were injured in isolated events. She fell and broke her nose; I fell and shattered my elbow. She had difficulty breathing and had to sleep sitting up. I underwent multiple operations and had daily nursing care with both my arms hooked to machines.

I was grateful when caring relatives and friends rallied. But I was still the main caregiver, as I am now, and those first few months were trying and tearful.

It helped when we activated the long-term care policy mom had been paying for years. A caring woman came five hours a day and helped her shower and dress, made breakfast and lunch, did the laundry and washed the dishes. It gave me a welcome break.

Fast-Forward

We have both healed considerably since then, but being a caregiver for an aging senior is demanding. Mom alternates between having the clear thinking to stay up-to-date on current events to getting confused with simple, everyday tasks. I’ve heard my name called so many times I’ve even thought of changing it.

Having help those few hours a day has been a giant blessing that’s about to change. The policy was only for two years and ends in five weeks. Unless I can generate a few thousand dollars more a month to hire a caregiver, I am on my own just as my income has come to a halt.

Leading by Example

I work from home consulting for authors. Writing. Publishing. Designing books. Building websites. And everything in between. After my injury I took a break. Once I was able to type, I resumed working for two exceptional, light-filled individuals: Norma Locker and Bob Danzig. The radiant Dr. Locker passed a year ago. I miss her. Recently, Mr. Danzig, a golden-hearted jewel of a man I’ve worked with for the past six years, also departed. I miss him too, every single day.

Both Bob and Norma led by example, always encouraging others to find their truth and live it. My truth is, I don’t want to take on more clients. I want to be my own client and focus on my own writing and promote my own books. Yes, I need to increase my income to hire a caregiver. I’ll just have to find another way.

What other way? I’ll put that in nature’s hands and pray something manifests. I’ve also been feeling tired, so I’ll pray for the energy to follow through on whatever that something is.

I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and ask for help. “Please, guide me towards increased energy and increased income.”

Answered Prayers

A day passes. I turn on my computer and open Facebook. A bright light appears on the screen highlighting a comment from my friend Ilene.

She and I have something in common. We both moved from a small meditating community in the Midwest to help our parents, so Ilene understands what it is like to put the needs of others before your own.

The light? Not a total surprise. At other pivotal moments in my life, I’ve seen, or heard, or sensed, or felt something call to me. As if my soul is beckoning me to follow.

I phone Ilene. “Hi, how are you? I saw a bright light around your comment on Facebook. Thought I’d ask you about it.”

“I’m glad you called,” she says, “I’m using a Homeopathic HGH Gel that has improved my sleep and my energy. I’ve never found a product which has impacted my overall well-being this way. I became a distributor to share these benefits with others, and it has increased my income and pays for the Gel.”

Did she just say her energy and her income have improved? Is this an answer to my prayers?

I go to the website Ilene directs me too, which has the option of becoming a customer or a distributor. I take a leap of faith, sign up as a distributor, and order a bottle on auto-pay.

Around a week later, a shrink wrapped bottle of the Gel arrives. Twice a day (first thing in the morning and again around 5 pm) I gently depress the pump to squeeze out the size of two peas for mom and two blueberries for me, which I then massage into specific points (such as the inner wrists or inner elbows or behind the knees).

Day by day I slowly increase mom’s dose to the size of two blueberries. I don’t notice any obvious changes in her. However, I notice something in myself after the first application. My desire for sugar turns into a desire for vegetables. (Can’t make that up.) Seven days later, I feel like someone hit the reset button on my 67 yr. old physiology. My thinking is clearer; my food choices realign; and I feel a renewed optimism.

Two months pass. I feel supported. Strengthened from within. Like my cells are cheering me on.

As for mom, one of my biggest upsets is her broken sleep. Up and down. Up and down. All night long. The consensus seems to be–interrupted sleep is common in advanced years. That may be true, but it is not a solution.

Then, a week ago something radical happened and kept happening night after night. My mother, who never sleeps through the night, is now sleeping through the night. She can barely believe it herself. When she got up this morning she said, “Something shifted. I didn’t wake you up again!”

I am excited to see how the benefits of this Homepathic HGH Gel continue to progress. I am also exploring the business side so I can share this product with others. In the process, I hope to be able to provide mom with the care she deserves and give myself some equally deserving breathing room.

*Did you know the World Health Organization (WHO) says Homeopathy is the second most used medical system internationally?

(Click here for more.)

Psychic Whispers

Psychic Whispers

I am alone in my home office when I hear the words, “Contact the teacher.” An inner voice, like someone is in my head. I take a slow, deep breath.

To my left, a wall of windows faces a small lake. Loud duck squawks and birdsong filter in through an open window.

In an instant, a mental image appears of a writing class I visited in Marina Del Rey, California. When was that? Twenty-five years ago? More?

I recall the teacher. Attractive. Around ten years older than I was. A friend invited me to attend, and I was moved by the stories I heard. Students wrote from real life experiences in present tense, as if they were speaking into a microphone, narrating their lives as they lived them. It was personal. Intimate. Engaging. And the closest I’ve ever come to taking a writing class.

What was the teacher’s name? I remember he wrote a book called, Writing from Within. I’ll google it.

Found him. His name is Bernard Selling. I am looking at his website now. He’s written quite a few books since then. Think I’ll email him.

Dear Bernard, I sat in on your writing class years ago. I am an author myself now, and I recall how your classes touched me. Blessings, Kira

Hi Kira, Always happy to have had a positive impact. I’ve written three new books (two books, one workbook) updates of Writing From Within. For an experienced writer like you, I suggest Writing from Deeper Within. Thanks for the hello. Bernard”

I dial my friend Jacquelina.

“What’s up?” she asks.

“I was working alone when I distinctly heard the words, ‘Contact the teacher.’”

“You mean like Kevin Costner in Field of Dreams? ‘If you build it they will come.’”

“Yes. There wasn’t any sound, but I heard the words distinctly.”

“Do you know who the teacher is?”

“Bernard Selling, a writing teacher I met decades ago when I lived in Venice.”

“I have been wanting to focus more on my writing,” she says.

A day passes. I am sitting at my computer when I hear, “You’ve got to teach what he teaches!” This time the words are emphatic.

Dear Bernard, Have you ever trained others to teach your technique? My friend Jacquelina and I are both interested. Kira

Hi Kira, Thank you for your interest in teaching my writing method. I would be happy to mentor you and your friend through the process. Just let me know when you are ready to begin. Bernard

One month passes. A number of girlfriends express a desire to get more serious about their writing. With little effort, I organize a writing class with Bernard and women in three different time zones. We plan to meet every other Sunday by phone. My initial thought is to set it up so we can video chat, but no one wants to be on camera. I set up a conference call instead.

Fast-forward six years. The writing class continues to meet every two weeks. Students come and go. Jacquelina and I stay with it. With Bernard’s masterful approach to authentic writing, our writing and our confidence are transformed.

I feel privileged to manage this class. Whenever we have a new student, I work with them first to introduce them to Writing from Within. It’s like planting a seed; then watering it and watching it grow.

Oh, here is an email from Bernard.

Hi Kira and Jacquelina! You have each expressed an interest in teaching my Writing from Within method of writing. The significant thing from my point of view is that my work has a chance to live on. You could teach and eventually train others to teach. Bernard

Is Bernard offering to pass the torch? That’s humbling. We can teach individually or we can teach together; we can give classes or workshops or webinars; we can teach in the states or overseas; we can train other teachers. So many possibilities!

The phone rings. I know its Jacquelina.

“Did you get the email from Bernard?” I ask.

“That is why I am calling,” she says.

I hear the smile in her voice and smile back.

© Kira Rosner

*This story first appeared in Fresh Start Moments: True Stories to Ignite Passion & Purpose Compiled & Written by by Bob Danzig

Gazing

Gazing

There is a powerful Croation healer named Braco who radiates pure love by gazing on a crowd. I have seen grown men cry in his precense.

Braco does not speak. He has touched millions of people around the world with his silent gaze. Many experience healings, both physical and mental. I went to a gazing session in Miami with a close friend and afterwards he had a renewed idea to solve a problem that had eluded him before.

Periodically, Braco offers free gazing sessions online. For details: go to: http://www.braco-europe.tv

All you do is look into his eyes and surrender to your highest good. For me, it’s a soothing blast of divine love. A reminder of who we are.

Understanding Death

Understanding Death

When Souls Take Flight: Coping with Grief was born of a series of revelations that began when my father’s health declined. I’d had little exposure to death before then.

My desire to soothe dad was so power-packed it opened a channel to what lies beyond, allowing me to explain what would happen when he died. And the more I talked, the more I knew.

When my father passed and I had the privilege of seeing his soul leave his body, it affirmed what I already knew to be true: Death is not the absence of life; it is merely the absence of the physical form.

Does that mean we can communicate with those who have passed? Yes, we can. Our souls can communicate with the souls of those who have passed heart to heart.

I welcome you to share your own experiences about death at: https://www.facebook.com/copingwithdeath & http://twitter.com/copingwithdeath

May you find the peace you deserve.