|Posted by Sara Moore on March 18, 2016 at 2:50 PM||comments (1)|
Most of you know that our sweet cat Casper was attacked by a bobcat on our deck February 26th. My son Z and I were just sitting down when we heard the cat fight on the deck. I assumed it was "just" a cat fight. Nope. I went out the mudroom door screaming to break it up and before I even got to that door Z looked out the glass sliding door and saw the two cats going at it. He opened the door and ran outside just as I rounded the corner. For some reason Casper got away and hid under my little Honda Fit.
We were in full on panic mode.
I screamed at Z to close the doors and turn on all the outside lights. He was screaming at me asking if Casper was ok. I was barefoot and since there was a thick layer of ice on the ground I grabbed my camping bedroll (yeah, I like to lie on the deck and look at the stars so it's stored in my mudroom), threw on some boots and did my best to inch my way far enough under the car to grab Casper. He wasn't budging and I knew that I had one chance to get him by the scruff and drag him out. I am shocked I didn't break his legs in the process but I did manage to get him into the mudroom and into safety.
I could feel the adreneline surging in my system and I had no idea how much damage had been done. Zach was desperately asking me if he was going to live and how badly he was hurt. I knew that before I did anything I needed to regroup. So I told Z to call in all the angels and start praying. Funny thing about him is when I tell him to do this, it makes sense to him. That kid can call in some BIG energy, too! I closed my eyes and started sending Reiki to Casper. I had my hands gently on his sides. I could feel myself grounding and his panic releasing slightly. Then I opened my eyes and looked for blood.
There was blood on his neck and coming out his nose. I wasn't able to see the wound under his chin, whic h was a puncture wound that also had been sliced when he broke free. I didn't know what to do..... I felt helpless, sad, scared. Stunned. A bobcat had just attacked my cat, I had seen it jump over the railing as it fled from the deck and it was 7pm on a Friday night. I blotted some of the blood from his neck and opened the door to let him into the house. I got on Facebook to ask a vet tech friend what to do, and to warn my neighbors that this had just happened.
I have to say that asking people for prayers helped us all get this far in his recovery.
I'm going to fast forward a little to where we are today, March 18th. He went to the vet that Saturday and Kate Battenfelder of True North Veterinary said that although he had major puncture wounds nothing was broken. We decided that I'd syringe feed him through his mouth until he was able to eat on his own, and that time would tell how bad any nerve damage was.
A week and a half later he still wasn't eating on his own and it was time to try a feeding tube. He had an incision on the left side of his neck with a tube going to his belly with the other end extending out and wrapped in gauze to hold it in place. For a week I hooked it up to the syringe and pushed the nutrition into him. This was not an easy process and there is a story behind those experiences as well.
Yesterday Casper managed to pull the entire tube out. I heard him make a funny howl like meow, then silence. When I went to feed him there was the perfect bandage that I had put on him no more than 45 minutes proir, but no tube. Tears. Lots and lots of tears. Tears of frustration, helplessness, fear. Casper had decided that he was done with the tube and I know that he has to figure out how to eat on his own if he plans on living. I'm praying with all I have that he can pull this off. As I sit here typing it he is sleeping like a king on the couch beside me. Apparently he's pleased with himself and I'm still freaking out a little. This really is a live or die situation.
I know that he was attacked by a bobcat that was hungry. But there are so many more lessons to this that I want to share with you. The first is that when Z was born I only got 6 weeks off and I had a full time job. I didn't get to have that gentle maternal experience that I wish it had been. I was in survival mode for a lot of his early years, and I'm amazed and how he and I came together to help save and heal Casper. I didn't realize I had that in me.
Second is that I have had many bobcats in my life. Not the real ones, but people or situations that threatened my safe zone. I'll leave it at that so as not to call people out, but trust me when I say that I've felt like a target for a while. I'm back in my power though. And I'm confident in who I am and what I am capable of.
Another lesson is how we can offer help or support to people, and it's really ultimately up to them if they're willing to be helped. This I can see happening to me at times, as well as some of the people closest to me. Again, that topic is worthy of it's own blog!
I guess I'll end it there for now. I'm sure I'll be writing a book about this sooner than later, but right now I'm going to give Casper all the loving I can. He's the coolest cat I've ever had and I am grateful for all of your prayers and support.
|Posted by Sara Moore on January 6, 2016 at 4:45 PM||comments (0)|
2016 is the year that I stake my claim to the life I am worthy of having. This is a life with love, joy, fun, silliness, abundance, financial security, friends, family, travel, connections (as in networking with kick ass people), and all that I need. Which may be more than what I just threw out there, in case the universe is going to hold me to this. I want everything spectacular and awesome! I don't mind working for it. I've done that my whole life. But this year I've already kicked fear to the curb (after thanking it for making me so clearly need the shift away from it) and things are happening.
The universe can be so witty, and it definitely gave me the chance to be sure I'm ready. Example one. My lovely neighbor has taken care of my driveway and plowed without charging me for a number of years. Since my son was young, actually, and I shot a chunk of ice through the kitchen window while snowblowing in the middle of the night. I am eternally grateful for that financial burden that was lifted from me. Well, party's over and this year I'm on my own. So my boyfriend fixed my snowblower and I got a few passes done after the first storm before it crapped out. My brother and his fiance came up and PJ replaced a belt and I'm back in business.
Example two. I went to turn on my ceiling fan when my brother was over and it wouldn't start. First reaction: panic. How the hell am I going to fix that? I need it to help circulate the heat from the woodstove. I mention to him that I'm going to have to do something about that, and he casually said, "Oh yeah. I didn't know how to turn it off so I stood on the couch and pulled the chain." Well no joke! I always use the dial on the wall! It wasn't broken at all! Example three. That night I was trying to wash my face before bed and the hot water coming out of the sink wasn't heating up as hot as it shoud have. I started to panic inside.... I thought, well, I'll have to deal with that in the morning. Turned off the hot faucet and guess what. I had the cold one running a full blast! My hot water works!
Why are these things so significant? For the past 7 or 8 years it's been scary knowing that I have been doing this on my own and my life and my sons was at stake. I couldn't afford enough firewood, so my house was usually just below 60 during the day and cooler at night. I had run out of propane for my hot water. Twice. And I vowed I'd never do that again. My car died and I didn't have the funds to fix it, but I finally screamed mercy and magical things started to happen. Why was it that it felt so good to fundraise for non profits and donate readings to others, but yet some part of me didn't feel worthy of receiving abundance? Am I jacking my prices through the roof? Not at all. Am I charging a fair rate? Yes.
|Posted by Sara Moore on November 18, 2015 at 5:40 PM||comments (0)|
I'm sure many of you heard me tell the story about my son a few years ago, when he was embarassed about what I did for work and he didn't want his friends to find out. We agreed that when someone asked him what I did for work he'd simply tell them "Computers." This summer I had a reading while he had a friend over, and he freaked out trying to think up an excuse for when I stepped into my office and left them to go to work for 30 minutes. I told him that all he had to say was that I helped people over the phone. That seemed acceptable.
So yesterday when I was waiting for him to wrap up his activity in the afterschool program I chatted with one of his friends mom about their dog. Apparently I was pretty accurate, because her husband couldn't believe it and her son, who is also one of Z's best friends, was in on the entire conversation. Today I arrived to school and as I was looking for my son his friend came up and asked me how old his dog was.
I had no idea. I said, "3?" He said nope. She's almost one. Ok. Then I remembered that I had "read" the dog yesterday. As you know, I go totally blank afterwards so him coming up to me and asking me that was as normal as another kid asking me what time it was. Then he quickly asked me how I knew what his dog was saying. His mom showed up and was standing next to me, but I felt the need to be a little discreet about this conversation. Funny, huh? But you never know who may not think talking about a psychic reading is acceptable in an elementary school cafeteria. I told him to think about his breakfast. And that when I do a reading, I "see" the message the same way he saw his memory. The dogs or animals show me a picture in my head, and I explain it.
Then he asked if I can do the same with people. Yes. So you can read their minds? No, not really. Can you read my mind? Ummmmm. If you think of a color I'll tell you what it is. He stared at me.
How did you know that?!
Then Z walked in and his friend ran over to him and totally cornered him by the pile of backpacks. His mom started telling me how he was FASCINATED by what I do and how I do it. I had my eyes on the boys, though, and ask his friend was talking, Z had this smirk sort of creeping towards the corner of his mouth and they kept looking over at me. Then Z had this total shit eating grin on his face, blushed a little and hustled toward me and out the door.
As we were walking to the car I asked him what that was all about. His response was something like this:
"Well, back in first grade and I told him what you do for work he said that it wasn't a real job, and that you can't do that. I told him it was true and he didn't believe me. Then tonight he said that you knew what he was thinking and that he totally believes that you are psychic now and he apologized. I told him, Dude, I KNOW! I tried to tell you that in first grade!"
It was pretty stinking awesome, because Z was proud of what his crazy mom does for a living and also because it wasn't that strange any more. He did mention that he was pretty sure he was going to tell some people and the word would get out. But for the first time since I can remember it didn't seem to phase him!
You know what I told him when I got into the car?
"Bud, you are going to have some crazy stories to tell your kids when you look back at your childhood."
|Posted by Sara Moore on October 19, 2015 at 9:50 AM||comments (2)|
On June 21st I decided that I'd harness the energy of the summer solstice and sat down with a pen and a new journal. I wrote "New Season> New LIfe. Moving Forward. With: Peace, abundance, confidence, support, awareness, love, Z, new car, safety, excitement, strength, ambition, success, pure joy."
The next page has "Old views on love that I release." They include control, power, guilt, exhaustion, manipulation, poverty, suffocating, powerless, alone, finite, painful, unattainable, vulnerable, judged, indebted, unavailable, non existent, fraudulent and exclusive. Holy shit, huh? Those were some negative views on love. All very much earned or reinforced by the people I've met on my journey. It was time to shift.
The next page is titled "My New Views on Love." Are you ready? I'm baring my soul to you here, but there's a reason. Here goes:
I am worthy of love.
Love can be easy. and simple. and complex.
Love is availble to me.
Someone loves me unconditionally and fully.
I am able to redognize their love and embrace it.
Love is FUN!
Passion can and does last forever.
I know who I am.
I am respected. honored. loved. valued.
Faithfulness exists and will exist in my relationship.
I am second to no one.
I am treated like a queen.
Love feels secure.
Love is comfortable.
I am heard and supported.
Zachary feels loved and safe.
I become part of a family.
It feels ok to be vulnerable.
We are a team.
I have true love.
The next page I wrote out the qualities I'm looking for in my love, and then I wrote a letter to the universe and gave thanks and may have added a few more requests. Why not, right? One paragraph inluded:
"Thank you for keeping the perfect man at bay untilI was really ready. I know that now I am, so feel free to work your magic and allow our paths to cross. Feel free to make it ridiculously obvious for both of us, too, please."
Well, our paths crossed in August and if I were to go through the list of qualities I was hoping for he's every single one of them. It has been so much fun and we totally are a team! Z loves him, and I have never allowed myself to be this vulnerable while fully trusting that he and I have created a sacred safe space in which we can both share, grow and comfort each other. I think this is that true love that people talk about, that I never really understood.
So, if you are ready for your true love and haven't thought to really throw it up to the powers that be, give it a shot. I guess all the bullshit I've been through was worth it. I always knew it was, but I am grateful there's light on the horizon. No, that's not true. There's light all around me. Us.
|Posted by Sara Moore on October 6, 2015 at 7:55 AM||comments (0)|
I have been wanting to sit down and tell you about this dream I had the other night and finally have a peaceful moment to do so. I dreamt that I was doing readings in some strange building and I had seen a woman in the morning to read her dog. She thought that she could kind of hang out all day, but I had other clients so she left and was going to come back later. She did, but she was very late. She had a lot of phsyical issues, needed her special back rest to be brought out of her car and into the office, etc. Pretty much she complained a LOT about how crappy she felt and how it really affected her life.
I was trying to help her but she couldn't get out of her own way. And as I stepped back to let her try to get herself together, this beautiful eagle started soaring above us. I told pointed it out but she was too busy struggling to just stop for even a second and look up.
Interesting. So often we are floundering around and we're shown that we really are going to be alright. We just need to look up. My reaction to her not even caring to try this apporach was interesting. I was pretty disappointed, but then I realized she was doing what she knew. We've all been there. But luckily I know that my dreams are also teaching me something about myself, so I got a reminder to stop flailing and to soar like an eagle instead.
Since that dream I've been taking daily walks and am changing some of my ways to live a more healthy life. Yup. The coffee I'm drinking is even half decaf. But I did still add a little cream. I couldn't help it. It's just so delicious.....
|Posted by Sara Moore on September 1, 2015 at 5:50 PM||comments (0)|
How do you know that your prayers are being answered? Sometimes all it takes it looking up from the day to day routine and having mindfulness and awareness that something is different. Or that options are being presented to you. Or that things are falling into place just a little bit easier, that the right connections are made or someone swoops in and offers exactly what you need exaclty when you need it.
How am I being told my prayers are being answered? I was wrapped in the best hug I've ever had, and this incredible person told me this:
"I want you to feel safe and warm."
This means more than you can imagine, unless, like me, you have struggled to keep the house warm with a limited amount of firewood, there is no one else there to catch you if you fall, and that you are the breadwinner, the mom, the boss, the employee, the only person responsible for all aspects of your life. There is no victim card to throw. You are 100% responsible for the outcomes. Good, bad, indifferent. I have had faith that I will always be safe, but it's an incredible thought to have validation and the ability to accept that I am safe and maybe I'm not alone on this crusade*.
Being told "I want you to feel safe and warm" will rank among some of the most sincere and loving sentences I've even been told. And it was said with love.
So if you've read any of my proir posts, especially the more recent Chim Chimmeny, you'll know that my prayers are being answered.
*The word crusade fell out of my mouth before I could stop it. Merriam Webster definition: "a remedial enterprise undertaken with zeal and enthusiasm." Sounds fitting for life, don't you think?"
|Posted by Sara Moore on July 29, 2015 at 1:15 PM||comments (0)|
This week an American killed a beautiful lion. He paid to have guides help him find it, then he hunted it down and killed it. It hurts my heart and soul to think about it, and I even called him a Fucker on a friends facebook post. I meant every single letter of the word I had directed it at him. I got angry that someone could be that ignorant and selfish and rich to think that this is an alright hobby to have.
I spent the rest of the day heading in a downward spiral and my experiences from the moment I read that mirrored my attitude towards it. People sucked and they all seemed to show me that. From the condescending police dispatcher who made me feel stupid for calling for a welfare check on an older man walking unsteadily to the way my son treated me that night.
I've given it a lot of thought and am seeing a TON of hatred being directed at this dentist. Do we have the right to hate him for it? Yes, I supposed. SHOULD we hate him for it? No. When we put the hate out there we will simply attract more hate. There is power in that emotion and it can trump all the light we've capable of shining. So if you remove the hate we're sending, what can we replace it with? Compassion. For the Lion. Love for his pride that is now facing an uncertain future. Hope. For the humans. May we realize that simply because we have the money and power to exert our will over each other, it is not serving us well. We are a collective. All for one, one for all. In theory at least; I think we have a longggggg way to go before there's a chance we'll embrace that.
Forgiveness. Remember when Brittany Spears was busted driving her car with her baby on her lap? So many people hated her, and I thought, "Wow. Poor woman doesn't know any better." So forgive him. He is teaching us something. It is now up to him how he steps up to the current situation and criticism and if it spawns change. I would like to think we now know better than to hunt and kill to prove that we can, but I'm sure some people are actually listening to the whole scenario and don't understand what the big deal is. That makes me sad. So I'm going to suggest you also replace that anger and hate with Love. Love the earth, yourself, your family, all the animals. Love it enough to treat it and you well and with respect and dignity.
If I bumped into the dentist and knew it was him that was also the hunter, how would I react? I think I would probably simply cry. I would cry for all that he represents, all that we still need to learn and because it only took one of him to make us this angry and it will take all of us to find the love and light to over ride that.
|Posted by Sara Moore on July 21, 2015 at 7:25 PM||comments (0)|
I see the world in terms of blog potential. I've never really given much thought to whether or not that's a healthy perspective, but for now it's my reality. What does that mean? Well, when I have some crazy or funny or surreal conversation with my son I replay it in my head as a blog post. I can almost feel it being typed out and sharing it with you. For example. This past weekend Z and I were hanging out on the hammock, and he started asking me how I met his dad, how long before we kissed, if we picked him to be our kid, why we got divorced, etc. It was interesting because I've been divorced for over eight years and I got to help Zachary know his 'story." He listened and asked me a lot of questions until he got bored and left me alone with my thoughts. And the urge to blog.
When I'm at the grocery store, and someone is grumpy or I bump into someone I haven't seen in years, I want to blog about it. Sometimes I do! I find inspiration in when I'm driving, dreaming, eating, playing and working. But I don't always follow through and get it onto paper (or laptop). Yesterday I was at a red light and a guy in a white convertible was doing the right thing and using a hands free speaker phone. The woman he was talking to was clearly not happy with him and used quite colorful language to tell him just how much she didn't trust him and how much of a (fill in the blank) he was. I was kind of living in his blog, now that I think of it!
Tonight I did a reading for someone who recently lost a spouse. They are in the very raw reality of their situation and I'm simply a conduit for them to connect with their loved one in heaven. He was channeling through me, so I wasn't really present enough to want to write as I was doing the reading, but afterwards I wanted to tell you all how stinking cool it is to help someone when they are spinning and feeling totally alone and lost. I'm amazed by the experiences I have and someday will write about more of them. Someday. Well damn, that makes me want to write a blog about "SOMEDAY." Why not today?
I guess I'll have to get typing!
|Posted by Sara Moore on July 7, 2015 at 9:25 PM||comments (0)|
So where the hell is my knight in shining armour? I have really been ok being alone for the past eight plus years. But tonight, I'm pretty damn ready for this magical guy to show up. I was totally enjoying my quiet night, kid free, work free, watching mindless TV and texting and chatting with some friends. This is NOT a normal night for me. This kind of night is a rarity and I was totally enjoying it. UNTIL.... I heard something stuck in my woodstove pipe. If you have ever heard this, you know instantly what I'm talking about. You can hear a slight flutter, then ash or creasote gently tumbling down the pipe.
So what do you do?
Well, I'm guessing most of you said "I call my husband and have him deal with it." That's nice. I don't really have that option. So you know what I did? I took my ash bucket (shiny metal pail that sits year round beside the stove), grabbed a monster flashlight that is hooked to the battery of the "drivah"- honest to god I forget the real word for this thing... It's a power screw driver thing but with a flashlight vs a power tool attached... A drivah. You know what I'm talking about? I'll assume you do. So I carry the phone in my right hand, tucked in my ear because I'm chatting with a friend, stuff the drivah's flash light under my left pit and carry the pail in my left hand. I'm on a mission to free the bastard that's disturbing my peaceful night from the stove pipe. Puts "all stove up" into context. (Again, if you're not hick-ish, this term will be lost on you.)
So. I get to the outside access to the chimney, open it up, and shit- yes, I said shit- starts falling out. It was PACKED full of soot and creasote. FIrst thoughr is "Holy crap! Thank GOD I didn't burn my house down this past winter!!!!" Next thought, "Why the HELL am I the one doing this?" Oh right. I'm divorced, single, and I bought him out of the house. Right. I chose this. This is MY choice to be cleaning out the totally packed chimney. Sigh.
I start poking at the ash and watched the bucket start to fill. Then realized I needed to find something longer to reach UP the chimney to finish the job. Obviously this was going to require two hands so I had to say goodbye to my friend. Sigh. Hung up the phone, shoved it into my bra. (yes, they're good for that.) Goodbye night of singledom freedom! I treked to the back yard, got a 3' long branch I had put into a burn pile in the early spring,and went back to the side of the house. Poke, poke, poke. Crumble, crumble. Shovel, shovel. Bucket gets more full. No critter comes flying out, but I do know that I finally poked through the pile and for now the lower part of the chimney is cleared. I am still, once agian, grateful I didn't burn the house down this winter!
I am also grateful that I am so not a chimney sweep. For a second I had a vision of the guy singing Chim Chimminey, chim chim chiroo and I realized it was a crock of shit. He was totally clean. And you know what? I was totally covered in black, stinky soot. I had to dump the now full bucket, step out of my new (and now totally fouled) sandals before tiptoeing into the downstairs shower and hose myself off. I had to SCRUB all that stuff off of me and even now I totally smell like I just stepped out of a campfire. Which I normally like the smell of, but I REEK and it's not because I've been roasting marshmallows with friends. I have been trying to dig out some poor creature from my gross chimney. Ugh. This was my life.
So. That night in shining armour? Well, he's probably pretty psyched he's waiting until my life is totally "cleaned up." It is. He can hurry up now. I'm ready. And if he doesn''t come, that's totally fine, too! The stove pipe is silent now and I'm just hoping that thing that was in there has seen the light and flown up to the stars. For me, I'll just have to soak in a bubbly tub for a while and pretend this was just a skit I watched tonight on television. Although, the odds of me taking a bath are slim because I'd have to clean the tub first......
|Posted by Sara Moore on June 16, 2015 at 6:05 PM||comments (0)|
So what are you going to do? Open the door or act like you're not home? The choice is totally yours, and if you're not ready for opportunity to knock then for the love of god go hide in the closet! Why do I say that? Because if you're not ready to embrace it there's a really good chance you're just going to repeat some lessons. Ugh. That sucks, huh?
Let me give you an example. If you tend to do really well but set yourself up to fail at the very last minute opportunity may be giving you the opportunity to change that approach. If you don't understand why you do it or even acknowledge that you DO do it, then opportunity is more like the wolf dressed up like little red riding hood. You'll find yourself in another no win outcome. You have free will and can change this, but if you're not embracing the opportunity then you could be destined for a repeat performace.
Once you can identify if the opportunity knocking is the wolf you can tell it to go away or not answer. I am pretty aware of how many times I've answered the door when I should have been a bit more discerning. It's the frustrating part about being human! So open it! But if you sense the wolf is wearing a dress become aware and invite it in for a chat. Why is this happening again? What do you want to have happen? Are you ready to show this pattern to the door and wait for the perfect opportunity to knock? Yeah. Me too. Show me the new approach please!
So let's try this again.
Great! I've been totally expecting you!