Twas the Night Before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas and all throught the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse,
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there,
The children were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of sugar plums danced in their heads
And momma and her kerchief and I and my cap
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter
Away to the window I flew like a flash
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave a luster of mid-day to objects below
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a minature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer
With A little old driver so lively and quick
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name
Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer and Vixen
On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen,
To the top of the porch to the top of the wall
Now dash away, dash way, dash away all,
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricanes fly
When they meet with an obstacle mount to the sky
so up to the house top his coursers they flew
with a sleigh full of toys and St. Nicholas too
And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof
As I drew in my head and was turning around
Down the chimney St. Nicolas came with a bound
He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot
His clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack
His eyes how they twinkled, his dimples how merry
his cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly
He was chubby and plumb, a right jolly old elf
And I laughed when I saw him in spite of myself
A wink fof his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread
He spoke not a word but went straight to his work
And filled all the stockings then turned with a jerk
And laying his finger aside of his nose
And giving a nod up the chimney he rose
He sprang to his sleigh to his team gave a whistle
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle
But I heard him exclaim ‘ere he drove out of sight
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Holiday Music

I really could not think of a better way to spend Sunday than with some music which stirs emotions for the heart and spirit. Enjoy!

Righteous Anger

Sadly, our society has made anger a bad emotion. Even more sad is we can’t heal unless we process some righteous anger. Anger is normal, healthy, and must be acknowledged, dealt with, and released before true, lasting healing occurs. For those of us not directly connected to the families in Connecticut, we are passing quickly through the shock and grief, going full throttle into the anger. Where we will stay unless we process and release the anger. Anger itself is not negative, it’s a normal reaction to anything our spirit knows is wrong. Holding onto the anger and not dealing with it is what leads to the negative thoughts, feelings, and eventually, physical reactions, even physical illness.

For true healing to happen, those of us who are able must be able to send love out into the energy field. If we’re angry, we’re not sending love, we’re sending indignation, remorse, grief, and a plethora of other energies which will not help the families, the first responders, the counselors on site, the residents of Connecticut, and the rest of the world. The ripple effect coming from Newtown is being processed by all of us. To help those on the front lines and the families, we must be able to send back love. And right about now most of you are thinking, “How can I send love when I’m so angry that (God, Great Spirit, Divine Consciousness, law enforcement, the government, school security, the list can go on indefinitely), allowed this to happen.” So below is a list of ways to release anger in a healthy way.

A) Strenuous exercise; running is good, hitting a punching bag is even better. When I say run or hit a punching bag, I don’t mean for a few minutes or what’s normal for you. I mean until you’re exhausted, until you’re crying, or both.

B) Go somewhere you won’t upset anyone else (like out in the woods, or down in a basement) and scream, scream at whomever you believe could have prevented this from happening. Again, you have to really put your heart into it and bring yourself to exhaustion and/or tears.

C) Take some time away from others, especially your children, and grab a ball bat, tennis racket, etc., and beat the living crap out of your mattress. The mattress can’t really be hurt and as long as you’re not breaking things in the house and not allowing this rage to spill over to or even frighten the people you live with, this will release volcanos of anger.

D) If you’re not able to release your anger in physical ways; write a letter to the gunman (you are not mailing this to his family or anyone else), but write the letter, tell him how you really feel about him and what he did, pour all your emotions into the letter. Once you’re exhausted by the letter, tear it up, put it down the garbage disposal, or, my favorite, burn it.

Once you’ve expelled the initial wave of anger, and you’ll know by the way you feel; comfort yourself. Listen to your favorite music, allow yourself time to finish grieving, and if this means crying, then cry. Meditation is always good for comforting yourself and for connecting to the higher energies (probably the ones you were screaming at before) to reconnect, balance and center yourself. Take a nap, have a glass of beer or wine (this is not an excuse for a drunken rampage), eat your favorite food, even if your watching your weight and the comfort food happens to be cake. Then really rest. And don’t be surprised if you need some time to separate yourself from all this, that is normal. You’ll get back to the place where you can focus on the issue and then be able to send love into the energy field.

If you need help dealing with this or want more ideas for dealing with your anger, email me at freefullife@gmail.com – all comfort and assistance I offer in connection with this tragedy are free.

Blessings to all, Katrina

When There Are More Questions Than Answers

By now everyone who follows my blog has heard the tragic news of the shootings in Newtown CT. There are no logical explanations for this event. Mental health professionals could give you a plethora of psychological diagnosis for the shooter’s actions; it doesn’t make the event any less horrifying. I can offer spiritual insight that will make sense but it will not ease the pain, anger or grief.

When the Columbine shootings occurred in 1999 I was working with a group of teenagers at my local church. We spent many Sunday afternoons discussing the Columbine tragedy. Even though the young people I worked with had never met any of the Columbine victims, they were still saddened, outraged, and frightened by the event. Many of you have children the same age as the children who were killed. I strongly suggest you try to shield them from the event as much as possible simply because of their age. Death is very difficult for young children, it becomes more difficult when those who have died are their age, little like they are, it causes them to realize how fragile they themselves are and that’s a scary realization.

Unfortunately, many children are going to hear and see news reports and when they do, they’re going to have more questions than you have answers. I learned this when working with the young people after Columbine. However, this time, the children with all the questions are much younger, so the questions are going to be much tougher. The 5 – 10 year olds are the ones who trust the adults in their lives to have all the answers to everything. My advice is this, if they do hear about Newtown CT and start asking direct questions, don’t lie to them, tell them the truth as gently as possible. Don’t be too graphic but don’t sugar coat it either. Just answer the direct questions with direct, simple, basic, answers. Do not change the subject or tell them they don’t need to know. As difficult as this seems, giving them real answers to real questions allows them to process the event without allowing their imaginations to take over and create monsters from the unanswered questions.

This is a very dark day for everyone. If you have children asking questions you have no idea how to answer, no matter what age they are, or if you have questions or need to talk this through, I will offer my services free of charge, just email me at freefullife@gmail.com

Making Peace With Christmas

Unless you’re the five-year old child of Ozzie and Harriett, you’ve had at least a couple stressful holiday seasons.  Quite possibly you’ve had far too many stressful times at Christmas and it’s even possible you have excellent reasons for dreading at least the second half of December.  Thanks to the Celts, Romans, and Jews, I really doubt Christmas is going anywhere any time soon.  So you have two choices, take a two or three-week cruise to the Bahamas or Mediterranean or make peace with Christmas.

If you decide to make peace with it, here are a few interesting facts and opinions to help you.  First, December 25 is NOT Jesus’ birthday.  He most likely was born sometime in April.  Shepherds have no reason to be watching flocks at night in the dead of winter.  The only time they stand watch all night is in the spring when the lambs are born to ensure there are no complications and that the babies are safe from predators until mom recovers enough to guard them.  Second,  December 21 is the Winter solstice and Celtics celebrated by bringing in the Yule Log, feasting and paying homage to Mother Earth giving birth to the New Sun (Son) of the coming spring.  Roman rulers combined the two festivals in the hopes of converting Celts to Christianity.  There are many other Celtic-Druid practices which Christians have incorporated into their traditional Christmas celebrations.   Third, the Jewish Festival of Lights or Hanukkah begins on the 25th day of Kislev (traditionally this is different from our December 25 because the Jewish calendar is not the same as the Gregorian calendar we use).  Hanukkah is a celebration of the rededication of the Holy Temple, which again has nothing to do with Jesus’ birthday or the Celtic Yule celebration.  Fourth, the Western world (the greedy, selfish Americans referred to by other countries) have taken a time of year previously designated for spiritual respect, homage, renewal, hope and rebirth, and turned it into a ‘lets see who can spend the most money and track statistics to see where they spend it’ season.  While giving little, if any, respect or celebration to Jesus, Celtic Yule, Hanukkah or any other spiritual reverence for the earth, spirits or Divine creation.

So, how do you take this and make peace with a stressful holiday?  Start by figuring out what part(s) of this season you do like.  Maybe its just one thing, and that’s okay.  Concentrate on what you do like and reject or at least ignore the rest of it.  If you really can’t think of even one enjoyable aspect of the season, go on that two – three-week cruise.  Then, make it clear in the kindest way possible, to those around you, what you can and cannot tolerate about the season.  If the others in your house feel differently, discuss ways you can all enjoy the season in your own ways.  Finally, remember, what the season started out as literally thousands of years ago, is not what it is today.  Therefore, research your heritage, find your roots, and build new traditions and celebrations based on what resonates with you.  Or, if you must, just make something up.  It’s your life, and the Divine who created you knows how you feel and why.  You have control over this and can take the stress and transform it into whatever makes you happy.

I can assist you with finding ways to deal with the season at freefullife@gmail.com

Holidays and Haunting Memories

Unpleasant memories can and do haunt souls the same as ghosts haunting houses.  They keep the person in an almost constant state of fear, stress, gloom, sadness, disappointment and dread.  They distort reality in the here and now, these troublesome memories of past chaos, drama, and less than perfect events.  To show true compassion and holiday love, be extra kind to people who are grumpy, withdrawn, and sad.  If they seem to need a willing ear; lend it.  If they reach for a shoulder to cry on; give it. If they want to act as though it’s just another day in another year of life; go along with it as best you can.  Do not allow them to steal your joy, yet at the same time, these people need understanding and honest caring during the holidays.

For many people, the holidays are stressful and even depressing.  They are haunted by memories of drama, trauma, chaos, disappointment and even resentment and fear from their past holidays.  It’s easy for those of us who have good memories to analyze the situations for them, coaching them through our litany of ‘it’s all in the past’, ‘it’s behind you’,  ‘time has distorted the emotions attached to the memory’,  ‘most of a painful memory is really your perception of the event’,  blah, blah, blah, and to a degree we’d be correct in our observation.  However, it doesn’t make the ones who are suffering through the holidays feel any better.

For those of us who have not suffered these horrific holidays, we are doing them no favor by inflicting our exuberance upon them uninvited.  In other words, we need to tone it down.  Seek out people who are as excited as you are about the holidays and share your enthusiasm for tinsel, carols, sugar cookies, angels and Santa.  If you live with someone who is less passionate either go to a friend’s house to watch Rudolph, or at least go in the other room.  Keep the carols turned down, and try not to suddenly begin stringing lights and tinsel around their favorite chair.  The holidays come unbidden and unplanned; and they affect everyone be it a happy or sad event.  True spirituality is to not jut accept our own feelings but the feelings of others and love them based on their perception of the days.

If you or someone you know would like to talk about holiday emotions and haunting memories, email me at freefullife@gmail.com

Hallowe’en Hijinks

I want to state that I love Halloween.  I also want to be perfectly clear that I respect and celebrate with respect the Holy day of Samhain.  So, while reading my ‘fun’ posts about Halloween, please don’t think I take the holiday lightly.  I’m just having fun with it.

Today, is all about random fun facts, my silly musings and a poem from my childhood that I still enjoy. So, here we go . . .

The word witch comes from the old english wicce and the wicca were once highly respected for their knowledge and power.

If a black cat crosses your path but you don’t see it, will you still have bad luck? Are white cats good luck?

The first jack-o’-lanterns in Ireland were hollowed out turnips with candles placed in them to keep away evil spirits.

Seeing a spider on Halloween is believed to be the spirit of a loved one watching over you (I’m good then, I live in the desert, I see spiders just about every day 🙂  )

I’m named after the character in the Legend of Sleepy Hollow (Katrina Von Tassle) my father was reading the story and loved the name so much, he had me named about 2 years before I was born.

In my family the number 13 is thought to be lucky.  My parents were married on the 13th, my daughter was born on the 13th, when playing sports in school William’s number was 13.  (yes, I know 13 doesn’t have much to do with Halloween, I just threw this in for fun).

On All Hallows Eve (Oct 31) it’s believed the veil between our world and the spirit world is blurred.  Masks were originally worn to keep the spirits from recognizing the living.

My family loves black cats and we believe when one adopts you then you will have good luck.  We always feed stray cats too no matter what color.  They are the guardians of the underworld.

When Thomas Edison died it is believed that Henry Ford captured his last dying breath in a bottle. (wonder where that bottle is?)

Tonight, when the last light is gone

And you’re almost too sleepy to yawn

Put your ear to the wall

and hear the thing crawl

but don’t cry

it leaves before dawn . . .

What’s your favorite thing about Halloween or even what ‘scary’ notion interests you the most?  Happy Hallowe’en.

 

What Fear Has Taught Me

Most of you know I was raised by very nurturing, loving men.  Yes the women were all present and accounted for, but I preferred the men.  In my own healing I’ve worked at pinpointing crucial moments in my development, finding the key teachings which have helped me over the years and the ones which have held me back.  What I’ve found is important for everyone.

My father was the strong silent type. Tall, dark, brooding, deep voice yet a great sense of humor, kind to everyone whether they deserved it or not.  And a closet fear caller.  He was afraid of everything.  He faced his fears, he never backed down especially when it came to protecting, providing for and loving his family.  However, the closet fear he carried presented as being over-protective.  Although my brother wasn’t subjected to as much, he has in turn become very much like our dad in how he treats his children.

My maternal grandfather was average in every way. Blonde, blue eyes, athletic, also with a great sense of humor, and not afraid of anything.  Ever.  He lived with total passionate abandon.  He was kind, considerate, but could speak up for himself and never let anyone take advantage of him.  Yet it was always in a sweet, almost comical way.  I’m sure many people who crossed my grandfather walked away from their encounter not sure what had happened and later realized he had politely put them in their place.

Both men smoked, drank socially, ate whatever they wanted whenever they wanted. For both of them, life was an adventure. The difference is, for dad, the adventure was dark, with possible danger lurking behind every tree and certainly around the next bend in the road.  For granddaddy, it was a romantic comedy.  Full of dancing, singing, children, animals sunshine, flowers and passion.

What’s the lesson?  My dad was 48 years old when he crossed over.  He had been sick for a long time, and when he crossed it was sudden and final.  My granddad was 77 and crossed on his own terms, taking his time throughout the day making sure we knew where he was going and what he’d be doing when he got there.

I’m sure many factors come into play for both men.  And yes I could probably write much more about these men and how they lived.  But in the end I believe it would still come down to the fear that was and was not present in each life.

Have a fearless hump day.

Comic Relief

I wish I had pictures of this story, but sadly I don’t.  However, it is 100% true, no embellishment or exaggeration.

I don’t blog much about my family mostly because they are either afraid of my gifts or choose to ignore them all together.  But they are all good, honest hard-working country people.  My brother, Matthew is six years younger than I am.  The best way I can describe him is he looks a little like Garth Brooks (definitely that size), and his personality is a cross between Gentle Ben and Big Hoss.  But with a tough side he rarely lets friends and family see (he’s a Federal Officer stationed at the Penitentiary in my home state).  His wife, Pam is both beautiful and highly intelligent (scrub nurse supervisor at the local hospital).  They have seven amazing, bright, beautiful, wonderful children (yes I’m prejudice, I’ve had the honor of being the first person to hold every one of my nieces and nephews at birth, after their parents of course).  This arm of the family has taken the Brady Bunch and met Green Acres in the Appalachian Mountains, and there are many funny stories I could blog, but today’s is the most recent. So as told to me by my mother who witnessed it first hand here is what happened:

Feeding all these children gets expensive even with the good jobs my brother and sister-in-law have.  They have abundant gardens every summer, so they freeze and can vegetables for the winter.  My brother usually buys a beef every fall to freeze for the winter.  In addition, this year he decided to start raising chickens.  My brother’s degree is in Criminal Justice and even though he lives in the country; he knows nothing about chickens.  He talk to a friend and neighbor who came over to help build a very nice coop and fenced area for the chickens.  The first two arrived last week.  The rooster is named Henry and the hen is named Mabel.  All the kids are learning to help clean, feed and care for Henry and Mabel, even the baby boy (okay, he’s 5, but he’s still a baby to me).

Due to my brother and sister-in-law’s work schedules, the teenage girl across the hollow picks the kids up at school on her way home from the high school and they stay with my mom until Matt or Pam come home. On this particular day, Henry and Mabel were either excited to see the kids come home or bored in the chicken yard, because they flew out to greet the kids as they were coming up the drive.  I told you my brother knows nothing about chickens and apparently no one told him you have to clip their wings.  The neighbor girl knows quite a bit about chickens, so she told my mom and the kids they were on their own, she had no intention of being pecked to death if Henry and/or Mabel got mad. She went home.

My mom also knew better than to confront Henry and Mabel, she stood her ground about 100 yards from the coop while the 5, 6, and 8 year olds tried for almost an hour to corral the chickens back into the yard, but they just kept flying out.  Of course, for the kids this was a mixture of funny and frustrating.  They were laughing but the chore quickly became tiresome.  Luckily, my brother came home from work.  Which is what I think is the funniest part of the story.

Picture if you will, a very large, muscular, man wearing a law enforcement uniform (gun and all) chasing one rooster and one hen around an approximately 5 acre lot always just missing them.  Always having them jump, fly, or scoot from his grasp inches from his hands until finally he throws his hands up in despair, walks away telling Henry and Mabel (rather loudly) he hopes the coyotes eat them because he’s done with them. At which time they both fly politely back into the chicken yard and wait for their dinner.

Yes, my sister-in-law helped my brother clip their wings the next day.  Although I understand Henry wasn’t having any of it and his wings may not be clipped enough.  Which tells you something about his personality and my brother’s timidity.

Happy weekend everyone!