The Shadow Hunter

Throughout my life, people said to me, "stop being so sensitive ." And it always made me think to myself... wait, my sensitivity should be stopped?  Why? Has someone ever told you this? Did you start to believe, as I did, that your sensitivity was a bad thing? It took me years to learn this, but...often what other people describe as your "weakness", is actually your greatest strength.  As a kid, I was perceptive. I would just know when someone was happy or angry -- even if they didn't say anything.  I felt everyone else's pain like an earthquake, it would ripple through me and become my own pain. I'd be upset suddenly and I suddenly felt confused...wait, I was happy a moment before? Plus, I basically thought that if other people were angry, it was somehow my fault -- or that I needed to FIX the situation and make them happy.  I could always pick up on things I FELT, even if there were no words said.  At work over the years, I had bosses tell me not to &q

A little confession: I used to worry about everything .  And it weirdly calmed me.  Right?! I know. Worrying was like a rubik's cube for me -- something I'd pick up so that I could "do"or think of SOMETHING even if I felt powerless to do anything. When life was out of control, I let my thoughts control me.  I'd read those posts that would say, "think a positive thought" and my little inner cynic would respond... "Ha! Yeah, right. All I can think of is the worst that's going to happen." Whoops. And the posts about love and light? Forget about it.  One of the biggest things I've learned over the last few years is that spirituality is not all "love and light".  Quite the opposite! (And please be wary of anyone that tells you it is...!) It's often exploring those dark, dusty, hidden thoughts that you've shoved under a rug.  The parts of you that you're like -- nope.  That's not pretty. I can't think about it.

I'm a huge advocate of getting out into nature to decompress and relax.  But after renting a cabin in the middle of the the Wisconsin countryside for a few days, I had a moment that was literally the exact opposite of relaxing. It was terrifying.  My friend and I were out walking our dogs on a country road near our beautiful Airbnb cabin. Upon crossing a street near some farm fields, we saw a small white dog in a yard on a tie-out, barking furiously and running back and forth restlessly while jumping and barking loudly.  We crossed the street as quickly as possible, but the tie-out that the dog was being pulled so intensely that it snapped and the small dog made a rapid beeline for me and Sage. And in one swift, horrifying moment - this dog jumped at her and started clawing at her.  Sage tried to leap away, barking and whimpering loudly, but the dog wouldn't let up. I told myself — don’t panic. Stay calm. You got this.   I picked Sage up quickly and tried to run away from the s

συγχώρεση   Any guesses to what this word is?  (If you read or know Greek, I am super impressed...as this came from the power of Google)  This is  aphesis , which is Greek for  forgiveness.   But here it means something a little different than what you traditionally may think about the word.  Here it literally means: to let go.  To set free.  To liberate. You may be thinking -- um, this all sounds good in theory, but. Let's be serious. Why is it SO freaking hard to let go of something or someone that hurt us?  Often we keep that hurt buried for years and years and every time we think of that person or situation, the only thing we can think of is the hurt they caused us.  It's like an old wound, and the memory of that person scratches it a bit and that pain comes up again, and sometimes you think -- UGH will this never go away?!!  I get it, I truly do. I've been there! Here's the good news.  It can, and will, go away.  And you're left with something new and so much