Journey To Healing
December 25, 2015
Ok, so I finally decided to start writing my very first blog. It has taken me so long because to be honest, I was worried about all the grammar and spelling mistakes that I would make. I am not a writer by any means and so that can be extremely intimidating! The other thing was I was afraid of putting my heart and soul out there and not having a single person care to read what I wanted to share…now that is a HUGE fear for me!
Sooooooo today I said screw it, I want to share things about my life that I think may help someone out there. Even if only ONE person reads this, I know it will be meant for them. To heck with perfection, I am going to do this anyways. Here we GO!
I am a Psychic Medium and Spiritual Healer. Yes I know that may sound wacky to some, especially to those who are skeptical. I’ve dealt with people judging me my whole life, and I am perfectly ok with that. I am who I am and I chose to live my life helping as many people as I possibly can!
Growing up “different” wasn’t exactly easy. Imagine seeing dead people standing at the end of your bed as a child?! Talk about feeling like a freak! Especially when I would go to my parents and tell them that their friend who just passed away came to talk to me within days of his passing. I will never forget the day that I saw my first spirit. We moved to a century old home on a farm when I was 9 years old. It was so spooky and living in the middle of the country, everything seemed dark. It had such old wood throughout the home. It had a very cold cellar in the basement where we stored our wood for the wood stove. I swear it was as if that cellar was full of creepy spirits. If only those walls could talk! Everything about the house freaked me out. That one scary night, I went to go up to my bedroom and happened to look up the stairs before turning on the light, and at the very top was a glowing figure of a woman! It took my breath away, scared the living daylights out of me!
I never quite understood why I was having all these “visits” from DEAD people!? Why were they with me everywhere I went??? As a child, you start to think that you truly are a freak. So none of your friends are having these “visits”?? How was I able to also just “know” and predict things? It took me years to understand that YES I did have these abilities…did I want to pursue them, HECK NO!!!!! I was scared to death!
I just turned 40 in October and for the last few years I have embraced who I am. I knew that I had a purpose, and that was to get on with it and begin healing the world…one person at a time! In my upcoming posts, I will be sharing my life story. In the 40 years, I have lived a thousand lives. I have experienced things that even to me surprises me that I am still ALIVE. So to whoever is reading this (if there is anyone at all), I am going to bare it all in the hopes of healing through my words….
Sending BLESSINGS and LOVE your way…
Journey To Healing
December 26, 2015
After reading through my first post, I felt the need to explain why I chose the name Journey To Healing for my Blog name….
Yes I have explained that I am a healer, and that I talk to spirit, but I never really explained WHY I was so in tune with my abilities…especially as a young child. So let me give you some insight in to my life…
My father is from the Czech Republic and moved to Canada in the early 70’s. He had a pretty tough life growing up in a communist country. He fled to Germany with his brother and didn’t go back until he was allowed in the early 90’s. My mother is from Pakistan, and she also had a tough life growing up. She was sent to an awful boarding school when her father died when she was 13. Her large family split up and had to fend for themselves until one of her brothers sponsored them all to move to Canada.
My parents met at a local bar in downtown Toronto. They quickly got married and had my older brother. Then I came along two and a half years later. We grew up in a little town called Newmarket just outside of Toronto. Their marriage was a disaster from the very beginning. They were from two completely different worlds trying to make a go of it. Eventually we found out that my father had told my mother on their wedding day that he was a divorced man (a no-no for my very catholic mother). She found out about an hour before walking down the aisle. She felt she had no choice BUT to get married that day as she was also pregnant. You can even see their faces in their wedding photos looking completely somber.
Just a few months after they wed, she started to receive letters from the Czech Republic with child’s writing…she then found out from him that he also had an 8 year old daughter that he never told her about. These are the things that I believe started their path of a destructive marriage.
My father was an extremely hard worker, he would do anything to make a buck. Now when I look back though, I see some of the shady things he did to accumulate so much. We were known as “rich” to some. We would take two and a half months vacationing around Europe every couple of years. My father had shipped his GMC royale motor home over to Germany and we would travel to all the best beaches in the south of France and Spain. Some of my favorite countries I loved were Greece, Switzerland and Austria. We stayed with my Aunt, Uncle and two cousins in Germany every time for at least a week or two. Sometimes they even travelled around with us. Friends and extended family thought our lives were wonderful. They would see our photos of us at the top of the Eiffel Tower, swimming at the best beaches and visiting luxurious castles all over. Little did anyone know, that behind closed doors things were very dark.
For so many years I was bitter and angry with life. I will explain many, many of my experiences in upcoming posts as it will take me so many to share it all. I was in the middle of writing a book….but I got to my teenage years and it became too difficult to continue as the pain all came back. I have now worked on healing my life and traumas over the last two years and I am finally ready to share. I was told by spirit that what I have learned, I will teach. This is why I was born to be a healer. Those awful experiences throughout my life have allowed me to truly empathize with people and help them on their path to healing. I am very grateful to even be here, for there were a few times that I almost ended my life…..
To any of my friends or family that are going to be reading these, I am sorry if you never knew how bad it had gotten and that I was near death. To those of you struggling with trauma, depression or anxiety. I hope you follow me along this blog journey so that you can know that you are not alone and there is ALWAYS a reason to KEEP GOING! Our pasts DO NOT define us. We CAN choose happiness and LOVE.
Until next time…sending you lots of LOVE AND LIGHT
Journey To Healing
January 2, 2016
I have been procrastinating writing another entry….for many reasons. I started to have anxiety worrying that my extended family would read these and be shocked, perhaps angry for somewhat “shaming” the family by airing my “dirty laundry”. There are so many things about my life that they have no clue about.
Then spirit told me that I HAVE to write, and I HAVE to be completely honest. This is how I will be able to help others. That worry about “shame” is what we are used to in society. Keep things hush hush, on the down low….brush things under the carpet. Pretend it never happened!
I am going to move past that fear, that worry because I am meant to give a voice to those who cannot speak. To those who hide their head in shame! To those who use addictions to cover up the tormenting pain they feel inside! It is about time to speak up and give a voice to those who are on the verge of death, just as I once was…
So here we go……
One of my earliest memories is when I was about 4 or 5 years old. It was Christmas day. We had just gotten dressed so that my mother could take us to my grandmother’s place where all of her family would be for a very large party. I don’t remember how my parents started to fight, I just remember the yelling and screaming. Then the next thing I remember is my dad choking my mother holding her up against the wall. This is where my older brother took me by the hand and told me that we should go up to our rooms.
Christmas was always so morbid around our home. Each year they would have extra fights and it was always about their families. There is not ONE Christmas that I remember being joyful and fun. It was always the same old thing. My mother would spend hours in the kitchen making a fantastic meal on Christmas Eve and we always went to midnight mass after that. At this point there was already tension building up between them. We would then be allowed to open one gift as we celebrated a European Christmas because of my father. We would go to bed with that excitement as any child would have on the eve of Christmas…..but it was the mornings that were dreadful. We would wake up so excited to open all the gifts under the tree. The problem was that you could feel the tension in the air…it was ice cold. They would not speak one word to each other. My brother and I would open our gifts in silence for fear of rocking the boat.
I truly hated the Christmas holidays, right up until I had my first son 8 years ago. I would always do my best to escape out of the country or work extended hours in retail so I could avoid any form of celebration. Having children changed that for me though. I now have that excitement in my life, it truly feels like a redo of my childhood holidays.
I did not have too many vivid memories of my childhood, I blocked out most of it until 5 years ago….but now it is like a puzzle to me. I have been piecing things together for the last couple of years. I have learned that trauma will do this, it IS possible to suppress painful memories and they can slowly come back through flashbacks….
We moved around a lot, all in the same town but my father was always buying and selling property. I believe we moved at least 4 times by the time I was 6 years old. I have a few memories of those places. One of the homes (the one where I remember my mother being choked) was one of my favorites. We had an in ground pool. My father bought this very cool bubble that went over the whole thing. He had big blowers with heat to keep it all warm inside which allowed us to swim in the middle of a Canadian winter!!
The next place that we moved to from that home was to a property that had a couple of acres and a very large shop. My father was a very talented Auto body man who was known for his restoring work. He had a few men that worked for him and it became a very successful business. This property had a huge shop downstairs and an apartment upstairs in which we lived. My older brother and I thought it was a very cool place, there were so many interesting spots to explore! There were a few abandoned cars in the back of the property and my friends and I would spend hours in them pretending that we were adults driving. There were all kinds of offices and little supply rooms that I would spend time in. I can still remember the smell of the fresh spray paint. It was in this place that I remember quite a few disturbing memories…
I think I am going to pause for today and take a good break. When I come back and write again, I will explain some of those memories to you all…..
Sending you lots of LOVE AND LIGHT…until next time…