|Posted by Sara Moore on March 16, 2017 at 8:55 PM||comments (110)|
Celebrate the dead? Yup. My mom was hit by a car and killed back in 2001. She was in a crosswalk and the glare of the sun blinded the driver. A month prior I had read a book by Sylvia Brown called the Other Side and Back that was all about our life purpose and death. But that's not the point of this post.
My mom used to take time for herself every morning. It meant I had to walk to school, even if it was raining. My mom used to go for a run almost every day that I can remember from middle school until she hurt her knee when i was in college. That meant I was the mom in her absence, but it prepared me for being a mom today. On rainy days she'd put us to bed and run around the house while blasting Donna Summer! I also remember going for a run with her when I was in middle school and we got a lot of honks from the trucks passing by. She mentiond that didn't happen when she jogged alone.
When I was in high school my mom took a workshop with Dale Carnagie. She learned all about visualization and being empowered. She started visualizing what she wanted. I remember her saying she was going to get her own white car. Turns out she did! I now know this is the law of attraction and this is something I totally belive in! She also used to go to a psychic named Virginia once or twice a year. One time I saw mom's planner and caught a glimpse of a few of the questions she was going to ask. I still wish I never did because as a child ignorance is bliss, but turns out when I as an adult I asked the same exact ones! Thanks Ma for letting me know it was alright to get some insight from a trusted source.
My mom was a good Irish Catholic who hated boiled dinners. She went to church and dragged us alone on Saturdays at 4pm. She loved the Ouija board but I will not touch it to this day even though I own two of them. My mom knew who was calling before caller ID and would call me in college whenever I was doing something I shouldn't be. She was "witchy" and I wish I could sit with her for just even 5 mintues to talk to her about my life right now.
But if I did, 5 minutes wouldn't be enough time and I'd be left wanting more. As it stands now, I can feel her around me. My son Z knows all about her and when he's a turd at bedtime his sleep machine turns off as soon as he climbs up to the top bunk. We both know it's my mom telling him to knock it off!
Ma, I miss you. I hear you, I feel you. I still miss you. Lately I've felt you stronger than ever and I am grateful for every sign you give me to let me know you're still around. Your posse in heaven has grown, and I feel them around me, too. Even as I type that my head gets tingly. Thank you for teaching me about the law of attraction. And for teaching me how to ski. I'm actually going with my love and Z tomorrow to celebrate your birthday tomorrow. I made Aunt Sal's chocolate mayonaise cake and am going to make your butter cream frosting. Remember how you used to make white cake with that? YUM. I'll be thinking of you with every bite Ma. I love you. And I miss you.
|Posted by Sara Moore on January 5, 2017 at 7:55 PM||comments (0)|
So this is part 2 of my chatting with little Sara series. I'm doing this to help me better understand why I am the way I am and to let the old me be free of any limiting beliefs. I figured maybe you could tag along on this journey and perhaps do some healing yourself! Yesterday I chatted with Baby Sara, and today I'm chatting with my toddler self. Ready?
Dear Toddler Sara,
So... I see you trying to crawl around but you're wearing a beautiful red velvet dress with a white lace collar. Looks like you're getting tangled in it and it's flat out ticking you off! Funny. I've looked at the glass paperweight that has the image of you wearing this exact outfit, sitting in your toddler sized black rocking chair. You had some dried babys breath flower stems in your hands and were looking directly into the camera, but I never quite knew what you were thinking. I was told the story by both mom and dad about how much you HATED the dresses mom put you in because you weren't able to crawl with them on. I totally get that. Funny that I love skirts now, but I struggle with the feminine foofy side I know exists within me.
You know what else I remember when I was you? That stupid light pink canopy bed. Ugh. It was arched and was held in place by the dowls on top of the wooden four poster bed's posts. The bed was nice, although I really would have preferred bunks. I think I was the only person who was excited to get to college and get the top bunk! Ugh. Anyway. I think we may have been set up a bit to fail with the girly girl expectations. I don't really think it was done with any level of awareness or ill intent, but I think I understand why it's been a struggle for me to feel like I was the girl they wanted me to be. Sure, I'm very grateful I am a woman now. But with a mom who loved everything Talbots and wanted a sweet demure little girl who would let her put ribbons in her hair I did feel like a bit of a disappointment.
Toddler Sara. I'm here to tell you that I'm entertained by how much you wanted to move and be free from dresses that prevented crawling. I kind of wish I could go back and have our two selves meet. I think we'd have some fun and I'm sure we would both hike the dresses up and do what we wanted! And just so you know, lots of little girls would have LOVED the canopy bed! So you really were being spoiled, you were just looking at it from a different perspective. Finally, I have one more thing to tell you.
Do you remember the day you slept in and when you woke up there was no one else upstairs? You were only 18 months old according to mom. I can remember what we saw when you stood on the landing looking down the lime green colored stairs. You felt so alone. Like everyone had left you. And your dad didn't even kiss you goodbye. This is the earlies memory i have of us, did you know that? I can't really remember what that house in Concord, MA looked like but I can remember what it looked like from the top of the stairs. You woke up, realized you were alone and just stood there crying. Mom tried to comfort you but you still were pretty messed up from it. Well, I guess I can see where maybe some of your fears of abandonment came from, huh? Are we really afraid of being abandonded? Huh. Something to think about. I'll have to chat with the 4 year old Sara next and see what she thinks.
I'm going to go and do some very grown up things now. (Dishes, laundry, etc.) But it's your bedtime and I'm going to hook you up with some bunk beds. And pajamas with the feet. I always did love those. Sweet dreams toddler Sara.
|Posted by Sara Moore on January 4, 2017 at 7:50 PM||comments (0)|
Today I had a reading with my friend Chelsea Latham. She and I go about things in totally different ways, but she's really great at identifying and clearing blocks and that's what I needed. One of the things she told me to do was to acknowledge my life story but to also rewrite it in some way. I've decided to write my younger self some letters and let "her" heal. I'm ready to move forward and rock this life, but I need to let go of some of the emotional baggage I've been carrying and acknowledge where any self limiting beliefs were formed.
So here I go.
Dear baby Sara,
You are an absolutley gorgeous baby. I know, when your mom found out she was pregnant she was a little worried. It had taken quite some time for you to arrive on the scene and maybe she didn't fully believe it was happening! Her fear means there could have been some fear instilled in you right from the start. It's time to let that go.
Hey, you've heard the story about the day you were born, right? I know you have because you tell it to your son every year on your birthday. But I'm going to tell you again because maybe this will help you let go of some shit. Sorry. Stuff. I forgot you're just a baby! It was a super cold day with brignt blue skies. Your mom knew it was time to go to the hospital and just as they were about to leave the house your dad said, "Stop! Shhhhhh! Can you hear that?" Your mom said, "Hear what?" He said this is the last time this house will be quiet." Pretty cool that he said that, huh? Makes him a little more lovable when you hear me tell it to you, doesn't it?
Then you were born. And you were a girl. Now here's the thing and I'm going to be brutally honest with you. Your mom loved your dad SOOOOOO much, and she knew how badly he wanted a boy. But you were a girl. Missing some parts perhaps? Let me shift your perspective a bit. They were obviously thrilled to have a healthy baby! Your mom even told you how she counted your 10 fingers and 10 toes and it was magical. But perhaps there was a tiny bit of disappointment on her end. Well, baby Sara, that's not your problem. You actually WERE born perfect and I'm here to get you back to that space as an almost 44 yearl old woman. So just let that belief go. Poof! Gone.
What's that? You want to talk about the cradle your dad built you? Alright. So your dad did build you this HUGE cradle. It was about 4' long, 2' wide at least and it had long footboards along each side so your mom could rock it using her foot. That's great but it created a huge space for you to fill. You had to feel absolutely worthy of filling up that cradle made for a king. Or queen. But you were a girl instead of a boy and as we'll see in future blog we'll also see how expectations were pretty high and you just weren't foofy. You're still not and that's what I love about you, but I'm pretty sure that has been a challenge for you.
So my dear baby Sara. You actually were loved. And it's time to be glad that you were the first born because you always felt that you had to prove how great you were. Sucked at the time, but you are a little competitive (in some very bizarre ways) and it's gotten you to where you are today. Congratulations! You really were born awesome and I hope this reminds you of that.
your almost 44 year old self.
|Posted by Sara Moore on December 13, 2016 at 8:40 AM||comments (0)|
I knew this day was coming, but I wasn't ready for it. Zachary is in 5th grade and turned 11 last week. He is an only child and has always believed in Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Leprechaun who pees green in the toilet every St. Patrick's Day, the Elf on the Shelf (who only started arriving 2 years ago when a friend dropped him off), the Tooth Fairy and God. All things you can't really see but you just simply believe in. This year he has been grilling me about Santa and the Elf relentlessly, and this morning I had to address it because he is feeling so pressured by friends who have told him they're not real that it's stressing him out.
Yesterday was a snowday and I spent most of the day coming up with stories about how the Elf moves. In the past I have caught him nose to nose with the little bastard waiting to see him blink or twitch. He's pretty sure he saw movement and it kept the spirit alive. But yesterday he admitted to me that he touched him with a piece of paper. More than once. And that there's no way he's real because his fingers are plastic and stuck together and he doensn't look like the "real" ones that his friends have. Um, that's because I refused to buy into it and the one my friend gave us is fantasticaly creepy looking! You know that made me happy, but the first day Fred the elf was hiding in the bathroom Z refused to go in it. Oops!
Let me tell you a few other things, just so you know how much this kid believved. He started writing Fred notes and Fred would write back. Every. Single. Night. Fred may have had to set an alarm for 10:15pm every single night to remember to move and respond, but he did it! Fred met the Tooth Fairy one night when they both showed up at the same time and I'm pretty sure some sort of romance still continues. Z thought that was hysterical! But the elf only exists here, not at his dads. So there was some questioning about that but I had smoke screened him enough that it wasn't a deal breaker in his belief.
Yesterday Z said that he really, really was struggling with the concept of Santa and there's no way it's possible for him to exist. Followed with, "And you REALLY think there's a huge bunny who delivers candy? Really mom? Really?" Ugh. When he went to bed he hid the kindle and left it on record to catch me moving the elf, but luckily the battery was only at 22% and died before that happened. The end was near and I was getting beaten down trying to keep up with the doubting child. He's getting taller by the minute, his voice is getting deeper and I can fit into his shoes. But I actually really started to enjoy all this fantasy and watching his face on Christmas morning was worth every middle of the night "OH SHIT I forgot to move the elf!" Today I had to come clean, but I had to do it in a way that made me not cry as I told him and still instill the ability for him to take the reins for the little kids, including his own if he ever has any.
So. There we were, in the car at the bus stop and it was time. Now mind you, I've answered all the sex questions no problem. Didn't even blush and I nailed them! But I knew this was monumental. It went down like this.
Mom. Serioulsy. I need to know if Santa is real, because kids are making fun of me. My dad said hes' not, even Kasen doesn't believe any more, and I just don't think it's possible. I WANT to believe, but it's just really hard to.
Sigh. Ok. So here's the truth Z. Santa does exist, but he exists in our hearts. Kind of like God. You know he's there, but you can't see him.
Ok. I get that. But is he really real?
Well, you know how you're getting taller and your voice is getting deeper? Yes. When you were little Santa and the memory of Santa lived right in the front of your brain. He was real because you believed, and that allowed him to deliver presents and the elf to keep tabs on you. As you got taller and older, the belief started lowering down a bit and into your heart more than your head.
Silence. Deep thoughts by Z. Then he said, "I get that."
But here's the deal Z. As he gets more and more in your heart, it's your job to be an elder and keep that spirit alive for all the kids who do still believe. It's kind of a big deal and it sounds like you're ready.
"I am. (long pause) So does this mean the Leprechaun won't be coming this year?"
Oh no, he'll always come to our house! Grammy Mary Ellen was born on St. Patrick's day and I'm pretty sure she'll keep sending him even when you're a grown up!
The bus headed down the road and Z leaned in for a kiss then got out of the car. I had to fight back tears but know that tonight I will still move the elf and Santa will still leave gifts under the tree. I don't think I'm quite ready for them to not be real even if my boy is.
|Posted by Sara Moore on October 3, 2016 at 12:10 AM||comments (1)|
|Posted by Sara Moore on September 26, 2016 at 9:05 AM||comments (1)|
You know what I love? The Facebook on this day app that lets you know if you posted anything on Facebook a year ago that day. I find it fascinating to see what I was up to and how my wanderings have led me to here. Actually, they weren't all wanderings. Most of the stuff I'm seeing lately was very strategic and shows my business launching and evolving. I started really getting into Reiki when I was still working at Cranmore, then left there to be a tech at a physcial therapy center and then stepped off that cliff and have been doing this as a career for the past six or seven years. I think. Math isn't my strong suit, but thanks to FB I'm being validated that I really have been a real Psychic for about that long!
Where did it start? Well, first I did Reiki for animals at Telling Tails in Fryeburg and for friends. I did the dog show in Scarborough when Z was about three, then went to a show in Union, ME, then was a regular at Pet LIfe stores doing mini readings on weekends. During this time I started doing reiki for people out of Taylor Chiropractic and expanded into hypnosis, which I think made the owners uncomfortabe and ended my time there. LOL! That has happened a few times actually... The hypnosis training really turned on or perhaps just reinforced my psychic abilities, so my career shifted to more of that than energy work.
When I inquired about doing psychic readings out of Leapin' LIzards in Portland the owner Melissa said they didn't have any openings but that I should come for an interview in case something opened up. The interview was me doing an hour long reading for her while she furiously jotted lots of notes. My father told me I should have at least done some research on her so I'd know a little about her but that totally defeats what I do! I don't know anything and the messages come out unfiltered. She offered me a job on the spot and I started the next week. It was my first "real" gig where people came in looking for readings.
I taught workshops and did readings at the Animal Refuge League of greater Portland, the Animal Welfare Society in Kennebunk, tried to work at our local shelter but it wasn't well received, have been featured on Good Day Maine, 94.9 HOM, Frank FM, at lots of dog events all over New England and I write the Furry Words column for Downeast Dog Magazine, All Things Maine and 406 Bark out of Montana. I've read people in New Zeland, Australia, Canada, Egypt, Spain, France, Belguim, England and all over the United States over the phone and via Skype. I ended up leaving the safety of Leapin' LIzards a few years ago and had an office on Portland and then two years ago opened one in beautiful North Conway. I now focus on readings out of that office and over the phone, with parties and fundraisers for non profits taking up the majority of my time. I have three dog events that I continue to do so I can see my dog friends and honor the people who helped me launch. Pretty amazing, isn't it?
So yes, you can get there from here! When is the last time you looked back and realized all that you have accomplished over the past year or longer? You might be surprised at how far you've come! I think that we all need a reminder to celebrate our successes and a reminder that even the challenges will eventually turn into a success one way or another. I do believe that life works with perfection; we may not like it as it's unfolding. Good news: You have free will and the power to change your direction. Line yourself up to live the life you want! When you're ready, take the first step. Then take another. Enjoy the view. Laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Cry when you're sad or overwhelmed. Sleep when you're tired. Revaluate if you're miserable. Find friends or family who support you. If necessary, shift your persepctive so you can enjoy your adventures. Once you find your groove notice how things start happening easily and go for it!
|Posted by Sara Moore on July 18, 2016 at 10:05 AM||comments (0)|
What do you say to a ten year old when you have to explain that black lives matter? What do you say when he hears that there was another police shooting, or people died in a nightlcub? What do you tell your child when he asks why would someone do that and will they do it here?
I am going to tell you what I said.
I told Z that right now people are angry, and they are sad. And they are hurting. And that everyone matters. I told him that we should all be equals, but that is still a process that is unfolding and we can make a change by sending love to all of them and the entire world.
This morning he said to me that my friend who is a vet tech must be a little nervous. I asked him why, and he said "Because a vet killed those cops." I had to laugh at his innocence but then explained that a war veteran is different than a veterinarian. He then asked why a Veteran or anyone would kill someone? It made no sense to him. So on our drive to camp I explained that the people who protect us and others who serve our country often see the worst of the worst. Some go to war and live in a constant state of hyperawareness knowing that they really could be in life or death situations. They are willing to put themselves in situations most of us couldn't handle emotionally and then they come home. I told him that we may be driving and just see the trees and the beauty around us, but they may see where someone could potentially hide and leap out at them. We see the world very differently.
I did reading recently for someone who's spouse had committed suicide. He has PTSD and he wanted her to know what that physically felt like to him. He said that the body was not designed to have the stressors that he faced. And that it felt like fiberglass inside his body and soul, and that his body didn't know what to do with this foreign concept and tangible manifestation of emotional pain. So he said his body started creating scar tissue around each and every shard until his body no longer felt like his own. And that there is no way to explain that to anyone unless you are living with it. Even as I channeled his energy I could not imagine such an experienced.
Z and I only had a short drive to camp, so the conversation was pretty short and to the point. I told him that it's up to us to pray to fill us all with love. And that there is some reason all of this is bubbling up right now, and it's probably because it's time for us to shift. We're all part of it! You're here right now, right? Welcome aboard. Light yourself up and surround yourself with yellow or pink light. Or whatever feels best. Be mindful. Be aware. Be patient. And be diligent. Things are being forced to change and life may very well be uncomfortable as it does.
I reminded my boy that I am always here to protect him, and that if anything did happen to either of us I would wrap us up with the angels love. It brings tears to my eyes that this is a conversation I had with my ten year old boy, but it felt right. He and his generation are the stewards of our future, and I feel that although I have to honor his innocence and ability to simply be ten, I am also able to help plant a seed of hope and love within him.
|Posted by Sara Moore on July 12, 2016 at 7:00 PM||comments (0)|
Today I had six readings and my son had no summer camp, which made things very interesting. I spent the first part of the day in the office with face to face clients and then the rest doing phone readings from home. After my third reading Z said he wanted to rearrange the living room, which has looked almost exactly the same for close to 16 years. Sure stuff has been removed and added but for the most part the lights, couches, bookshelves, bakers rack and carpet have remained the same. I guess my tuned in little man felt it was time to mix things up and I couldn't think of a reason why he shouldn't.
So here's the interesting thing that's been wiggling around in the back of my head all day. When we decided we wanted a baby, I rearranged my bedroom and burned my old journals. I figured that if it actually worked I didn't want any offspring learning about any of my old..... escapades.... I also thought that becoming a parent was such a huge shift that I'd just let the universe know I was ready by clearing the slate and starting fresh. Z was conceived on the first month of trying. YIKES!
Today I came downstairs between readings to see everything from the bookshelves in exceptionally sloppy "piles". The couches were moved around and Z had a very clear idea how how he wanted the room to look. So after six readings and getting debriefed on his master plan, we blasted the music and got to work. We'd move something, vacuum, shuffle, sweat, and vacuum again. In essence I was vacumming up my past. My married time in this house, my divorced time in this house. It was all getting cleared.
Oh, I like that thought! We sucked up my past and the things that needed to go have already been dumped in the trash. It doesn't mean I didn't honor the stuff I found. I now could open a store and sell the absurd amount of cat toys that had found their way into the crevices I didn't know even existed. I found all of my missing chapsticks and pens tucked under the heater behind the couch. (Shout out to the Beagle Karma and cats for that) I also spent over 10 minutes removing a fishing bobber from the vacuum extension when Z accidentally sucked it up. I was grateful he was vacuuming, so I didn't get angry. I did get highly frustrated, though, and was pretty psyched I had duct tape and a lobster picker thing to wiggle it free.
As I sit in my "new" home I am wondering whats in store after as a result of the rearranging. My house is clean. It's different than it's ever been before. It's comfortable but totally different. Some things are going to have to get tweaked but there's no way in hell I'm taking on that task right now. The last time I did this I had a child and I can tell you with 100% certainty that will NOT be the outcome this time, but it's definitely the start of something new!
I guess I've felt something stirring already because readings this week have been beyond intense and have shifted to a higher vibration. My eyes and my heart are open. I trust that amazing things are brewing, and are already within reach. Bring it on universe. I'm ready.
|Posted by Sara Moore on April 13, 2016 at 3:10 PM||comments (1)|
I have been given a clean slate. For about nine years I've been flying solo, working my butt off to simply survive. First I had "real" jobs and dabbled with Reiki and card readings, then about six years ago I finally set out on my own to do what I really felt compelled to do, which is psychic readings for people and pets combined with some hypnosis and lots of energy work.
Remember the bobcat?
He represented fear.
Fear of financial ruin, losing love (my cat Casper symbolizes true non judgmental love), fear of not being able to take care of my family, fear of being alone. Fear of what if every time I take two steps forward I end up taking three steps back?
Well you know what? I'm here to let you know loud and clear that a I've turned over a new leaf and I'm grateful for all of the love and joy I'm feeling. I am financially sound. I have my son, our cats, my family, my friends, my home, my car, my good health. I am never really alone, especially with all the voices chirping away in my head! LOL! When I simply started moving forward with joy and confidence I forgot to look back to see if the bobcat was still chasing me. I took a peek today, and it's not. I released it's power over me by reclaiming my own.
The more I embrace where I find myself, the more I allow all this goodness and positivity to continue. So thank you for being a part of my journey. While I was doing a reading today I glanced over and saw my desk. It's in the sun, with a beautiful happy plant and my work waiting for me to return to it. This may sound a little strange, but it really does feel awesome to be me today and I'm expecting things to only keep getting better!
|Posted by Sara Moore on March 23, 2016 at 5:50 PM||comments (0)|
So today my Auntie Anne died. She was my godmother and my mothers sister. I found out this morning when my Auntie Janie called to tell me. Although I wasn't suprised she had passed, now that I am sitting here quietly next to my son, the reality is sinking in. My moms family with of six siblings has now been decreased to two. That is just very surreal to me, and I'm trying to wrap my head around it.
My mom was the baby of the family and moved out of Stoneham when I was young. This was good, because I knew nothing of the craziness that goes on in a good Irish Catholic family living just outside of Boston, but bad, because I knew nothing of the craziness that went on, either. After my mom died I became a closer with my cousins and even went to a family reunion about six years ago. It was neat to put faces to the names of the people I'd heard about and I was reminded that we have a really big family!
Auntie Anne had spikey bleach blonde hair for as long as I can remember. She always was tanned, and loved her winters in Florida. Her grandchildren meant the world to her and every time we talked she referred to me as "Sara Anne." I'm going to miss that. Her body had failed her, if you want to look at it in those terms, and she was apparently ready to go. I can't blame her. She deserves to be free of her body, her worries, her pain. That doesn't make it any easier for my Uncle Danny or my cousins who will be burying their mother next week. I have already done that, and I know how hard that will be.
Here's how I want to picture her in heaven. She shows up. Everyone cheers as she arrives, and the wine flows freely. (You KNOW she'd love that, so have at it Auntie Anne!) There's mom, my uncle Johnny, my uncle Brud, her parents, her friends, her loved ones that have predeceased her. Even the old beagle Luke that I remember from when I was a child. The best part is her body is strong. She can be hugged and not feel pain. She can golf, dance, watch us and even have it out with God if she wants to.
Auntie Anne, may you be at peace. My heart is breaking as I type this but I have no doubt you'll let me know you're ok once you're settled in. I love you and am so glad I got to sit with you not too long ago.