Blog

(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)

After having my conversation with Clairity about ego perception versus spiritual truths, from my level of understanding, I came to a much clearer awareness that my perception trumps the truth. It is only when someone is ready, willing, and able, that the truth presents itself. If a person, such as myself throughout my life up until now, chooses to only see their desires, the truth will remain hidden in plain sight.

Whilst keeping what I had learned from Clairity private from Rosie, I allowed him to approach me through Messenger. Rosie did not realize that I had already made a commitment to myself when he reached out. I promised the little girl inside of me that I would always keep her safe. I set some healthy boundaries which I intended to keep firmly in place. I also promised the little girl inside of me that I will always do my utmost best to see the truth. Even if the truth is painful.

I was and still am committed to seeing the truth. Within all I do in this lifetime. My heart may have been soft for Rosie, and the conditioned love my ego was attached to was still very apparent, I also recognized the responsibility of wise discernment. I kept one foot on solid ground within me for round three of Rosie and I in the ring of illusion.

Whilst Rosie and I were speaking on Messenger, he did his best to explain some of his upbringing. I say some, because Rosie rarely divulged intimate details about himself. When he did, he only spoke enough until his suppressed emotions began to surface. When he experienced a change of emotion that scared him, he spoke no more of it.

The only emotion Rosie was able to express outwardly was anger or distraught. My dad was the same way. If my dad wasn’t drunk and making fun of someone, he was generally relaxed and quiet. My dad kept to himself most of the time. He did the cordial visiting thing but when he wanted to leave, my parents left. My dad had little patience for small talk. He wasn’t an emotionally expressive person either. My dad was all logic. My mum was emotionally expressive for both of them.

Rosie and I did speak of his infidelity when we were on Messenger. I honestly am unable to remember exactly what was said between us. As I am certain you can imagine, I was barely keeping my sanity together by this point. I was also more focused on his facial expressions and eye movements. I noticed when he spoke with me, his expression didn’t always match the experience he was explaining. I also noticed he looked right several times. I called him out on that. His response to it was, “I am just like that. I look in all directions when I am talking with people. It’s something you learn in the military. It doesn’t mean I am lying”.

My response was quick and matter-of-fact, “nope, not true”. I am familiar with Rosie, and familiar with some facial reading to know when Rosie is bullshitting me. He may have done some surface level reflecting, he still hadn’t gone too deep within myself at this stage. I kept a mental note.

What Rosie was willing to talk about was the fact that he was raised by a single mum. He never knew his father. He spoke of being exposed to male energy most of his life. There was a local barber shop in his community. He explained you would often find him there. Rosie felt his being around people older than him most of his life was probably the reason he gravitated to older women. Rosie explained that the men he was around had an interesting way of treating women. He said those behaviors rubbed off on him. Rosie also alluded to the idea that he was unfaithful because he was cheated on by his first school love whilst back in highschool. Followed by another girl cheating on him right after that. Empathy heartstring pulled?, check.

After Rosie explained much of what I already knew about him, I offered up a peace offering. I’m actually not entirely sure if it was me or Clairity who made the solid suggestion to help Rosie and I. I say that because the proposal slipped right out of my mouth with little to no thought. After I suggested it I didn’t think he would actually do it.

I said, “alright Rosie. If you are truly sorry and are making an honest effort to grow, tell your family what truly happened between us. Tell them about your infidelity. Tell them about the reasons for my leaving. Explain to them that I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye. Also tell your mum about all the work I did for you to help you get your kids. Tell her about the way I supported you. Clear my name Rosie. With your mum and your children. Give credit where credit is due. Come clean and record it so that I know you had the courage, integrity, and morality to be honest with everyone. After you record it, send it to me by email. I’ll listen to it then get back to you”.

That was a decent compromise I’d say. If he truly wanted to be with me, then he would be wise to come clean.

Rosie decided to take me up on the challenge in a somewhat sneaky way. He is a smarticle particle I tell ya. Rosie is a three steps ahead kind of thinker. I am grateful for him teaching me that. I started to implement the exact same training. Here! Here! for thinking three steps ahead!

In other words, act, react, then observe to discern. Follow what you observed in hindsight with making a conscious decision. All the while, keep your thoughts to yourself. Thank you Rosie. That was wise advice indeed. Rosie used his three step process to stay ahead of his deceit. I use it to see the truth.

Rosie’s insightful advice piggybacked off of my dad’s and my mum’s growing up. My dad would often say, “you can’t bullshit a bullshitter”.

My mother taught me it is always wise to “keep your eyes and ears open with your mouth shut”.

Interesting how the same thought process and messaging can come in a multitude of creative ways. We are collective thinkers with uniquely designed self expression. Two English born Canadians and one French Haitian Canadian think alike. Imagine that.

It was about a week later when I received the email with the recording. I listened to it as I said I would. I think Clairity wanted me to catch that the recording was entirely in English. I was unable to hear his mother speak whatsoever.

Rosie’s mum understood minimal English. I think Clairity also wanted me to catch that Rosie still hadn’t given credit where credit was due, nor did he fully admit to four women. Rosie only told his kids of two women. Wendy, whom the kids had already met on more than one occasion, and another woman. The biggest and most subtle thing Clairity wanted me to notice was Rosie’s response to Alyssa’s question when she asked him, “how does Clair feel? Is she okay?”. Rosie’s response was, “she’s disappointed”.

Disappointed is an interesting word to describe the way I was feeling and reacting to the situation. I would be disappointed if I received white chocolate instead of milk chocolate. Distraught, flabbergasted, hurt, receptive to healing, in pain, or anything else really, would have described the truth a hell of a lot better than disappointed.

This little blurb in the recording was Clairity’s way of showing me Rosie was still suffering from a stunted emotional intelligence.

Was I willing to teach him empathy? Seems I was hell bent on trying.

(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)

Rosie reached out to me on Messenger within about two weeks of my seeing him, and learning of his four, not just two, affairs. Rosie was testing the waters to see how receptive I would be to his advances towards a reconciliation. Before he reached out, I placed thoughts of him aside. Thinking of him was too painful. Instead of thinking of Rosie, I was focused on understanding what had occurred in the hotel room with that booming voice. I had never experienced something quite like that before, nor have I since.

My initial thoughts that brought Clairity into focus was, did I really channel an angel? What are angels? Are they a human construct to create fear of wrath and judgment? Are angels a true divine being of light and darkness, just as humans are of the same creation? Are they reflections of all that is, expressing themselves in a different frequency of light and sound? Are angels simply another form of alien? Everyone is an alien to someone after all.

I imagine, you may consider me alien by the way I process information? You may have even questioned if I suffer from some form of clinically identifiable mental disorder? I have certainly questioned my mental health in my past.

All this is to say, we are alien to each other until we are no longer alien to one another. Only you know you the best. I become less alien to you the more you follow my journey. Until you let me know you, you are alien to me. Everything else is just glitter and lights.

I also can’t imagine angels are at our beckon call. I would be arrogant to think that. Knowing that, what role do they play here on earth? Are they guardians helping through miraculous divine intervention? Do they combat darkness so that we, tiny little humans don’t become too overwhelmed by it all? The questions went on and on. I was so curious about the experience. I’m fairly certain that the experience rattled Rosie a wee bit too.

I have also been made aware of Rosie speaking ill of me and my connection to all that is behind my back since our separation. Sadly, and said without factual proof, only Clairity, Rosie referred to me as being mentally ill, lazy, ungrateful, antisocial, a dark witch, and other not so pleasant names. What stings is knowing he mocked my beliefs.

I know things without people telling me. Not all the time, most times. I also have confidence that what I don’t know today, I will come to know tomorrow with the help of my God. The truth always comes out one way or another.

I trust when I feel Clairity’s energy and the information she whispers to me. I trust Clairity’s words over Rosie’s any day and in any situation. In fact, if you trust someone outside of yourself more than you trust yourself, then you have definitely signed up for a heavy price to pay down the road.

I feel sad and disappointed for Rosie’s and my past connection. Rosie was supposed to be my person. The one my inner little girl was supposed to feel safe with.

It takes a village to raise a child. I am not meant to take care of my inner child by myself. We are made to be social. You and another, just like another and myself, are made to co-create our world together. At one time I was in an illusion of trust and safety, not actually seeing that I was unsafe. We only see what we want to see. We only see clearly when we choose to see the truth.

Your divine person has an important role in your life. They are the ones who help you keep your inner child nourished and safe to the best and utmost of their ability. You in turn are honored with taking care of your person’s inner child as well.

We are guardians for each other. If you treat your inner child like shyte, you would likely be impatient and unapproachable with others as well. Therefore you would inadvertently treat others like shyte. Two children can only get along when they are not grumpy within themselves. Adults are bigger versions of the same thing.

Rosie’s inner child was stuck in a fetal position, inside his own personal cave. He was unable to see the breathtaking waterfall. I did my best to pull him out like the way Grandpa Joe saved me from mine. Rosie has free will. I have no say over his choices. Knowing that doesn’t make the pain of loss less real. Healing is a process that requires the allowance of divine timing and self love.

Our ideal plan rarely goes exactly the way we ideally plan it to go. Today I can accept all is not as it seems. Even the sweetest of looking creatures can bite you in the ass hard enough that you wouldn’t be able to sit down again for a week afterwards. I would know. My mother used to brag to my friends that she bit my ass after I bit my brother’s, in order to teach me a lesson. I was three years old at the time.

My mother is a shorter woman. She used to say, “good things come in small packages”. Yeah, true, so does dynamite.

Rosie was sweet to look at and extremely hard to resist or digest. Being with Rosie is too high of a price to pay in the end. I would have paid the price of losing myself had I stayed with him.

Clairity interrupted my plethora of questions about angels.

“Clair, you have many valid questions. You also have the answers. Can you recall the adventure you had during a sleep state, when you spoke to an elderly woman?”.

I do remember that dream. I remember it vividly. Like it happened last night. I am still curious about it to this day.

It was sometime between 1990 and 1992. This dream left me more curious than anything else. In my dream I was sitting in a long, narrow, wooden boat. There was a man all in black using a long paddle behind me. He was standing on  the flat wood right at the peak of the boat. I guess you could consider it like a gondola boat in Venice. With the guide pushing the water with a long ore to create movement.

The presence behind me was strong and silent whilst gliding us down the waterway. The man was wearing a black hooded, floor length robe, with the hood covering his face. I felt like the size of an ant in comparison to his height and energy. One might consider him to look like a Grimm reaper of sorts, but without a scythe.  Since he was quietly guiding me through tall buildings on either side of us, I asked him, “am I on the River Styx?” The man gave no response.

The reason I think I asked if I was on the River Styx was because I had associated it with another dream I had prior to this one. I also loved Greek Mythology in school, so it could have easily been my subconscious associating with that learning and bleeding the knowledge into my dream state.

As we continued to move in silence I noticed I was wearing a light cream colored gown. Kind of like a flowy nightgown. The cloth was light and beautiful to look at. After admiring the clothes I was wearing, I looked up to see three massive figures standing together in a clearing to my left.

The clearing was situated in between buildings I was passing by. As soon as I saw the three beings, I bowed my head. I felt I would be dishonoring them if I looked directly at them in the eyes. I have no idea why I felt that way. I simply knew they were to be respected.

The three figures were extremely tall and slender. I’d estimate to be at least eight feet tall. They had iridescent shimmering skin that glistened when the light hit them. Like the way movies often depict vampire looking skin.

Do you know what I mean?

Two of them had the same melanin, assuming that’s what you would call it?, and one was slightly different. The best way I can describe them would be by acknowledging, they looked similar to the elves in the Lord of the Rings series. Two with lighter irridescent skin, and the other slightly darker in appearance. They seemed to be intersex as well. I was unable to distinguish between male or female. They were stunning to look at.

I kept my head bowed as we slowly drifted around a corner.  My water guide and I travelled down the narrow watery passageway until we stopped to pay particular attention to a man, and a woman, standing on the landing in front of an ornate looking building. The two people were wearing long royal blue robes with white accents. Similar to that of graduation, or choir gowns.

The female was shorter than the male by a good foot. At first, I thought the woman with alburn hair was my great aunt Mary. It may have been, dunno for certain. When we stopped in front of the people, I was under the impression that I was to get out of the boat. I went to stand up when a voice from behind me said, “stay seated”. With that, the two people smiled at me, then we started moving again.

I think we may have passed by another four buildings. There were different ones on either side of me, before the boat finally came to its full stop resting place. In front of me was a wide open body of water. To the left of me was a white wall. To the right was a pathway leading to some stone steps that curved around a quaint little building. There was where I got out.  I didn’t look back in the dimly lit waterway. I didn’t see the reaper man leave. Instead, I was focused on going up the stairs.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I came to an elderly looking woman on my right hand side. She was standing on the front stoop of her home. Her home looked like a home you would find in Mykonos Greece. Only dark in color, rather than white.

As soon as I saw her I posed two questions, “am I supposed to use my psychic abilities to help others? Is that what I am meant to do?”.

The woman looked up at me, smiled, then telepathically said, “only you know the answer to that. Keep going sweetheart”.

With that, I smiled at her, turned around, and walked further up the path until I opened my eyes in my bedroom.

That dream rushed back to me when I watched “What Dreams May Come”, starring Robin Williams, and Annabella Sciorra. There is a scene where Christy, played by Robin Williams, travels on a boat. I think it’s that scene that makes What Dreams May Come my favorite movie of all time. No other movie has come close to the sentiment I hold for that movie. The movie validated my experiences in perception throughout my life, beautifully.

“Yes Clair, that’s correct. The beings you saw before the elderly lady, who were they to you?”, Clairity asked.

I don’t really know. My intuition tells me they are angels. My logic questions this idea.

“You are learning to decipher, and understand your intuition, yes? Who they are is for you to discover and rationalize, not for me to tell you at this time. Do you remember your excursion with Grandpa Joe in the city?”, Clairity questioned.

Yes, like the first dream, I remember that excursion vividly.

The city dream with Grandpa Joe occurred sometime between 2004 and 2006. I know it was before I opened a spiritual center in September of 2006.

Grandpa Joe came to me the same way he had done most other times, simply appearing in front of the bedroom closet doors. When I saw Grandpa Joe, I left my body and floated over to him. I stood in front of him in my usual spot. Within inches of my face, Grandpa Joe motioned my eyes to close with the palm of his hand. When he removed his palm from in front of my face, I opened my eyes. I was standing on a sidewalk beside Grandpa Joe on my left.

The sidewalk Grandpa Joe and I were standing on was in a busy city. To give reference, I would say the environment was similar to that of New York City, in New York, USA. I hadn’t been to New York at that time. Today I can identify the similarities.

Grandpa Joe was standing to my left and looking straight ahead. I looked up at him to see where he was facing. With that, my curiosity took over. I looked where he was looking, which was across the busy street.

On the other side of the street was another sidewalk. There were many people walking fast, and slow, in both directions. I could make out their physical appearances somewhat. What stood out more was the rainbow of colors in their auric fields. Not all people had the same color sequences. Some were more red. Some were purple and green. Others were orange and yellow. Some were all the colors in one silhouette.

As these colourful beings, whom I intuitively knew were human, walked, a light being walked with them. I could only make out a sillouette of golden light. The beings floated about two or three feet above the rainbow people. Some had two light beings with them, whilst others had only one. All had guiding forces walking with them. That was apparently clear.

“Clair, look over there”, Grandpa Joe lovingly instructed.

As Grandpa Joe extended his arm, and pointed his index finger, he glided his arm to the right. My eyes followed is motion. Grandpa Joe was showing me an alleyway.

The alleyway was no different than any other alleyway you would see in a city. It wasn’t the alleyway that caught my attention. It was the five shadow people I saw that puzzled me.

“It’s important to remember Clair, they do exist”, my Grandpa Joe said like a loving dad would say to his daughter before her first date.

The shadow people were all huddled together. None of them expressed light, nor had a light being standing close to them. They looked like black robed monks with no face and no distinguishable light. They freaked me out a little.

Grandpa Joe went further on to explain, “most are of light. Few are unpleasant. Some interfere when ruled not to. Some cause havoc where havoc need not apply. Remain aware. Close your eyes dear”. With that, I closed my eyes then woke up in my bed.

I thought, what is the point of remembering this dream when it came to angels?

Clairity finished her teaching of that day by saying, “not all is as it seems. You are guided. Most are. The guiding forces are loving, wise, and always open to assist. Some people may see angels. Some people may see ancestors. Some people may see a god of sorts. We are imagined beings living a beautifully imagined existence. If you can imagine it long enough, whatever it is you imagine forms into being.

Conscious energy forms into a being you are familiar with within your imagination. An angel does not know the way you see them, any more than you can see your own true reflection. If you believe in angels, then angels exist. If you believe angels are aliens, then aliens it is. However you depict creation is perfectly fine with creation. Do you understand?”, Clairity asked.

I do yes, and I don’t. Perhaps it is because our ego is so hell bent on labels and identification.

“Exactly” Clairity stated, with dare I say, a cheeky vibe.

Life is fascinating isn’t it? I think that conversation with Clairity inadvertently softened me up to Rosie. The city dream helped me to remember, Rosie is a light being. Granted a lost light being. A light being nonetheless.

The reason I say I softened up by weaponizing empathy against myself, because, I agreed to let Rosie lure me back in with his charm. His attempt at redemption was enough to get me to ignore my higher wisdom once again.

Or, did it? Perhaps I was meant to go back to Rosie’s? Perhaps there was valuable knowledge to gain. Perhaps I was entering my graduating year? Time will tell.

Wanna go back to Montreal with me?

(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read this blog at your discretion. 18+)

Last night, before going to sleep, I was under the impression that I was going to be writing about my excursion with Grandpa Joe today. It seems this is not the case.

Clairity is urging me to write to you about what is happening within me as of late. Currently, in my reality, it is December, 02, 2025. I am challenged with the approaching holiday season. There must be a good reason for Clairity’s gentle nudge to share my internal struggle with you. Perhaps reading about the way I identify, process, and select what information I utilize would be of benefit for you as well? The holiday season can be challenging for the lightest of souls. Let alone those who feel alone and misunderstood this time of year.

Life is a journey. Life is in constant motion. It is highly important to maintain a relationship with your ego and your spirit whilst you move through your life. It’s a daily effort. It doesn’t matter if you have a wonderful family, a highly successful career, and an abundance of excellent health. If you would like to maintain that vibrant flow of energy, you must be willing to maintain the person inside of you at all times, to the best of your ability. You gotta be willing to talk to your little person inside like a loving parent would talk with their child during a crisis. Anytime you are making a decision, it’s important to check in with your morals and integrity. You must be willing to say no to your inner child when they are creating too high of a risk.

Just like Rumpelstiltskin says in an amazing Disney series, Once Upon A Time, “magic always comes with a price deary”. If a child sees candy, they will grab the candy without hesitation. It’s up to you to let them know too much candy can be harmful. The price you would pay in the long run may end up being far more costly than you realize in the moment of the candy being dangled before your eyes.

Candy is a symbol for your subconscious addictions which were created from a harmful belief. My ego created a belief that men see Christmas as a mundane humbug. I came to an oppressive acceptance that unless I make Christmas special for myself, my Christmas joy would lack significantly. My child’s candy is the sweetness of feeling rejected this time of year. I know that intellectually. Emotionally, I am metaphorically holding my little girl’s hand saying, “I love you sweetheart. Remember, Christmas is magical. You are magical. I know you haven’t been able to buy Christmas presents for such a long time. I get it. You are attracting resources. No worries. We’ve got this”.

I think proactive thoughts to combat the feeling of loneliness within me at the moment. It’s a daily reminder that I give myself. Something you would hear me say is “you already have it. Your awareness is simply catching up with what you already know”. Thinking this way helps me to override my oppressed thinking as it relates to my current circumstances.

If you ignore your inner child’s desire and impulse to focus on lack in any area of your life, your subconscious will remain focused on what you perceive you can’t have. Rather than experience true happiness, loneliness keeps you in the pursuit of happiness. That gets awfully tiring after a while.

It is only through gentle, and resilient educational reminders that your inner child releases the impulse to pout. Whenever you feel out of alignment with your true self, you must choose to pull your focus back into alignment with your highest loving timeline. No one can do that for you. Remember, it is you inside your own private theater. Creating, producing and directing your own movie. That’s exactly what Clairity has been getting me to remember.

I have been acknowledging the challenging waves of emotions within me. Then gently switching my focus back to the beauty of the season and what I am currently creating for myself. I choose to see the twinkling lights as magical. Rather than view them as a painful reminder of what I have yet to experience.

If you choose to ignore your needs, wants, and desires, your inner child will eventually have a temper tantrum, or collapse out of sheer exhaustion. Exhaustion usually creates depression. Depression is excessive depressed energy weighted down upon your auric field. This depressed energy, when carried long enough, increases the sensation of exhaustion. That’s usually not good for anyone. You fill a balloon with helium, not led. You require lighter energy to lift yourself back up.

With all that said, my little girl inside me has been feeling sad. Clairity has been helping me stay in a loving state.

Christmas is wonderful and equally difficult for me. My plan is to change that with the help of my God. I affirm, 2025 is my last year of feeling lonely. I also affirm this new year’s eve to be my last year of isolation. I affirm I have a person who is proud to take me out to celebrate New Year’s Eve every year from here on in. I am surrounded by authentic love and am kissing my person underneath a mistletoe. As well as kissing him at the stroke of midnight each year. It may have to take fifty-two years to make it happen. That’s okay. There is always a first for everyone. Including me.

I love Christmas. Christmas is my favorite time of year. I love observing people put up their Christmas lights. I love walking around town each evening to see the lights in all their magnificent glory. The streets come alive with magic for me during this festive season. I love seeing all sorts of cultures celebrating their family and divine faith in their uniquely expressive way. I love seeing the children’s faces on Christmas morning as they light up inside after receiving anything from pajamas to fancy gadgets. I loved making an upside down turkey dinner each year when I had a passion for cooking. As cold as Canada is in December, Christmas is my warmest time of year.

Last night my mind kept drifting into past Christmases. I see the beautiful homes lit up and I think about how I haven’t had my own home since Christmas of 2016. Each year since then I have felt like a visitor, rather than an active family member. Do you know what I mean? Do you know the feeling when you go to extended family members for Christmas dinner? You were happy to visit, and happy to go back home afterwards? If you have, then you know the energy it takes to be cordial. Christmas is nice but not quite the same as it would be in your own home.

Since 2016, I have had cordial experiences for my perceived Christmases. Most years I would be either visiting my significant other’s family, or, I was quietly sitting in my room playing a game on my phone whilst my children were with their extended families. I never made a big deal of prezzies for me. With that said, I have often felt a small twinge of disappointment each year when I realized the man I loved put little effort and forethought into a gift for me.

I am hugely sentimental. Price tags mean very little to me. Effort means everything. Make me something from your heart and creativity and I am happy. I am one of those people who like to display or tuck away gifts which were made for me. I have a few items over the years from my children. Chances are, I will have them for the remainder of my life.

My favorite Christmas present was from my children in 2006. They lovingly made me a scrapbook with beautiful photos of them growing up. They were nine and ten at the time. My girls put dates and drew cartoon thought bubbles with messages inside them on each page. I still have that scrapbook today. It may be a little worse for wear with all the moving I have done over the years. Nonetheless, I still look at it from time to time with a big ole smile on my face.

My two ex-husbands, and Rosie, typically bought me pajamas, my favorite chocolate of the year, and something cosmetic related. The last Christmas in 2023, when I celebrated with Rosie in his and his mother’s house, Rosie thoughtfully bought me pajamas, a new pair of slippers, and a bathroom Avon basket.

That Christmas and the year before were the only Christmases in nine years that Rosie thought of me. I met him towards the end of October, 2014. Every year other than 2022 and 2023, Rosie simply sent me a holiday e-card wishing me all the best.

For Christmas 2023, Rosie bought his mother a similar Avon basket as the one he bought me. Along with a tablet of some kind that swiveled on a speaker. It was adapted with a motion detector. When she moved then spoke, the tablet followed her motion and demand. I think it may have been a type of Alexa? Not sure to be honest. It was fancy in my mind. Rosie bought that for her so that she could listen to her Shekkinah anywhere and anytime she desired. It was a lovely gift. A bit too fancy for me. I know very little about techie stuff.

I must admit, I was disheartened when I learned it was my daughter Liv who sent Rosie a small list of items I would likely appreciate that 2023 Christmas. He picked my gifts from Liv’s list, not from his own thoughtful observation of me. My daughters do think of me at Christmas, and do spoil me each year. A loving partner on the other hand, not so much.

A part of me is solely relying on faith when it comes to attracting true love and having my own place to call home. Having a home to call my own is one area where I am constantly reassuring the little girl inside me. Telling her, “I’ve got you. You’re safe. It doesn’t always have to be this way. Remember, you already have your own home. Your awareness is simply catching up to that fact. Keep going”.

I constantly reinforce the importance of moving forward. Last night was no exception. During my walk alone, I started to wonder what the reason was for my quiet Christmases, and even quieter New Year’s Eve celebrations that I have experienced since being a recognized adult. That’s when Clairity chimed in.

“Clair, when you were growing up, what were your parents like during the Christmas season?”

I thought that was a very good question. I thought about it for a good moment before acknowledging a hidden truth in my parents relationship. My mother loved Christmas. My father could care less about it. My mother would do ninety percent of the decorating. My dad untangled Christmas lights and hung them up. My mother usually did all the baking and most of the cooking when I was a kid. It wasn’t until over this past decade that my dad took over most of the cooking.

In my earlier years we had a big Christmas tree decorated beautifully by my mum. She made our tree look full and vibrant with beautiful bows, ribbons, and white lights each year. We also had lights on our home outside. As the years passed, their Christmas tree got smaller and a Santa was replaced with a talking Scrooge doll. They stopped putting Christmas lights up outside. Eventually they stopped putting up a table top tree in their living room.

My mum stopped putting in the effort to make Christmas magical. My dad was allowed to relax about Christmas and not care or feel obligated. I am basing that knowledge of six Christmases ago. When I last saw them at Christmas.

When we opened our presents, my dad would say “yep, I knew you got that”, in a joking manner. Whilst looking over at my mum in acknowledgment of her solo shopping mission. It was his way of acknowledging he had nothing to do with present selections, nor wrapping them. My mother was the one who made Christmas magical for my brother and I each year. My father was simply in attendance.

I also have little memory of my dad taking my mum out for New Year’s Eve. I think I may have been in grade school the last time my dad celebrated with my mum outside of their house during the final countdown of the year. My father immersed himself in the humbug lifestyle and took my mum down with him. As far as I can tell, my mum’s spark for Christmas went out years ago.

“Correct Clair. Your father has reasons for his disdain for Christmas. He has a journey as well. With that said, your parents taught you love. Your father taught you what to expect from a loving partner. Your mother taught you what to accept from a loving partner. Couple that twisted perception with the way you once feared money, and you will have the perfect recipe for a lonely holiday season. You have been following that recipe ever since you were wee little”.

Wow, what a revelation. Masculine energy teaches us what we can expect from love. The feminine energy teaches us what to accept from love. Our parents are symbolic representations of love which our psyche identifies with. So cool, and so challenging at the same time.

“Yes Clair, exactly. Without you realizing it, your ego has been proving that love is scarce and that you are to be overlooked. You taught yourself that unless you put in the effort to make life magical, you will be ignored or kept around in obligation. Are you going to continue to accept this form of love for your reality?”, Clairity asked in a loving, and equally, firm way.

No, no I am not.

I have learned and continue to learn balanced reciprocity in all areas of my life. I deserve to see and be seen. I am awesome people in my eyes. There are others who can see that about me too.  I no longer accept a small existence. I celebrate Christmas and New Year’s Eve loud and proud from here on in, or at least for the 2026 season onward anyway.

I also now recognize that I too was a mum who was teaching my girls how to accept love. My children learned scarce love through me. Just as I did from my own mother. Generational “curses” are a real thing. With that said, I believe in my girls. I know they embrace what true love really means for them. All I can do is accept my accountability in their perception of it and continue to love them the way I know how.

So that’s it. That’s today’s entry. Anytime you feel low or your reality hasn’t caught up with your ideal life, reaffirm what you are committing yourself to. Affirm your value. Re-establish your boundaries. Give loving reassurance and understanding to your inner child’s ego. Love yourself in spite of what may be happening around you. Remember, every small step today becomes a giant leap tomorrow. You’re doing fabulous and so am I.

I wonder what tomorrow’s blog entry will be?

(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)

I made a bee line for the corner chair after we entered the hotel room from mine and Rosie’s smoke session. Clairity was starting to make her presence more acutely known within my awareness by this stage of the evening. Not in an overbearing way. Clairity is fair and firm. If I were to describe Clairity, I would best describe her as being like a firm, not stern, teacher.

Clairity’s energy is similar to a grade school teacher standing in the doorway of a classroom, smiling at what she was seeing, and taking notes through her observation. With one small clearing of her throat, Clairity can command attentive respect from the chattering students in the classroom. One slight movement forward into the room by Clairity, the student body would sit down at their desks, turn to face her, respectfully, and with excitement to learn from her. I am one of her students. I am a perpetual student of life. I love to learn.

Clairity has a similar  approach to that of my grade six school teacher, Mr. Beale. I had mentioned Mr Beale some blog entries back. I’m not sure how else to describe the vibe I feel when connecting with Clairity, other than a school teacher. She is beautifully fair, firm, and always loving. My ego tends to be stubborn and more demanding. I question and think, ya but…, just like anyone else. Sometimes Clairity can give me a nagging vibe by producing a strong message in a succession of threes, in the run of a single day. Her prods to encourage me to speak are also relentless at times. So much so, my timid ego gets pushed aside so that Clairity can take over to speak through me. That night in the hotel room was one of those nights.

I’m not entirely sure when Clairity started to make herself known at the surface level that night. It may have been when Rosie commented on a tattoo I have on my left shoulder blade. He commented on it when he was following behind me down the stairwell of the hotel.

Both my daughters, along with two past acquaintances of mine, came together to buy me a tattooing session for my birthday in May of 2019. The tattoo is of two dragonflies flying around a full bloomed rose in the center. The tattoo is mostly black and white. Color, which represents my loved ones birth months, would be found on the tails of the dragonflies. The rose was inspired by my relationship with Rosie at the time of getting the tattoo. The rose also symbolizes the glass encased rose the raggedy old enchantress gives to the beast, in the Disney film, Beauty & The Beast. The rose represents love.

The dragonflies in my tattoo symbolize my children and the metamorphosis dragonflies go through from a water beetle into their magnificent flying beauty.  Dragonflies are my favorite insect. They are both gentle and fierce. Like the dragonfly, we move through the land of our emotions in the beginning. Water represents emotions. Then after we leave our earthly vessel, we fly in spirit to be able to look on as we witness our loved ones progression in beetle form. The rose itself reminds me to live with love not self hate. The dragonflies remind me that there is more to life and love than meets the eye.

Rosie was under the impression the rose simply symbolized him. He was admiring the rose in the center and said, “what about your tattoo? Doesn’t it mean anything? What are you going to do with that now?” My response was simple, and truthful.

“I am going to continue to honor it. I am proud of my journey. I am an excellent alchemist. In fact, I am planning to get it touched up with more enriched dimensions and form. I’d like the dragonfly wings and tails to pop out more. The white accents and colors are fading. My tattoo is going to pop.”

With that response, I turned around on the landing to the main floor of the hotel to face Rosie, and smiled an honest, proud, “yeah that’s it”, ear to ear, smile.

I knew what Rosie was secretly getting at. Him, along with his daughter had a bit of a chuckle when telling me the children’s mother had a tattoo across her lower back reading Rosie’s real name in some form of written font. In his mind, he was grouping me in with his ex, Gemma. I wasn’t looking at him when he spoke because I was the one leading us down the red bannister stairwell. I imagine he had a contemptuous smirk on his face when he posed those questions to me. I think Clairity may have been alerted by that point because of what his true intentions were at the time. It was either then, or, when the “I started smoking again” red flag occurred.

The truth may be painful. Clairity encourages me to see it every day. This day was no different. I was to take a back seat. Clairity took the wheel.

“Rosie, I must ask you a question”. Those words popped out of my mouth so fast, it was like verbal diarrhea. I thought to myself, alrighty then, I guess I am diving deeper into Rosie’s hidden undertakings. It was as if my statement towards Rosie came from me, and yet, didn’t, all at the same time.

Has that ever happened to you? Something just flows out of your mouth. Leaving you to wonder where the hell it came from? That used to happen to me often. It still does on occasion. Today I am far more aware of the energy transitions within me, and the energy transference between me and another person outside of me.

“Sure. Anything”, Rosie said with trepidation, as he sat down with another drink in hand.

I think he may have been on his second or third glass of vodka and lemonade by that point. He wasn’t drinking as quickly or as much as he normally would have. At this point I was floating in between my ego state and Clairity’s energy. Clairity came to the forefront of my awareness. As if to gently put me aside and say “observe Clair. We’ve got this”.

With that, Clairity asked, “how many women have you been with since knowing me? How many have you had sex with and connected your energy with since knowing Clair?”

“Oh Clair, please understand. I was wrong. I was foolish. They weren’t important to me. Please forgive me”.

“How many women were there Rosie?”. Clairity was not backing down.

A firm frequency came over me. I was the teacher. In my mind, my ego was sitting in the chair watching it all unfold from the corner of the classroom.

“There was Wendy, and another woman”, Rosie responded with his head down and his eyes looking up into mine.

My ego wasn’t even allowed to pounce on the idea of it being Carla. Instead, Clairity asked one more question before another booming voice of authority came through me.

“Are you certain there were only two women?”

Rosie was doing his best to deflect the answer. “Clair please, can we just talk about how we can fix this?”.

When those words came out of Rosie’s mouth, a completely different energy came over me. The energy was neither mine, nor that of Clairity’s.

I am unable to recall exactly what words came out of my mouth. I wasn’t exactly in control, nor was it me speaking in the slightest. What I do remember was the name Uriel, and the questions, “are you speaking the truth? Are you certain you wish to only speak of two?”. Those questions came from the formidable energy consuming the room, not from me, at a conscious level.

The energy I was sensing in the room felt incredibly strong. It was as if it took up the entire hotel room. I also felt like I was completely outside of myself. I felt a little floaty, if you will. The energy also felt masculine, and highly intellectual. The energy felt void of emotion. It was as if empathy was tossed out the window. Facts were all that were required. Quite the contrast to that of Clairity’s.

I know there was more discussion between Rosie and Uriel before Rosie admitted to four women total, not including Gemma. I honestly have no idea exactly what was said during that channeling. All I can say is my ego snapped out of that chair with metaphorical fists clenched the moment Rosie confessed to four different occasions, with four different women. As well as confessed to having a long standing affair with Wendy.

Wendy being one of the four women he was admitting to at that time. I wanted to punch Rosie’s handsome, ugly face, the moment I heard his words of four women, plus Gemma. I snapped out of the trance.

“Four?! Four?! Four fucking women? Are you fucking kidding me? Rosie stay away from me! You make me sick! I feel sick. I feel… I had no words. Rosie, we could have been a powerhouse couple. We could have accomplished so much together”, I pleaded.

My knees went weak after that.  I couldn’t speak to him any further. I know he jumped on the power couple remark for a few minutes. My mind was lost in grief. I retreated inside myself. I intended to leave right there and then, but had no energy left in me to move. The channeling knocked the wind right out of my sails. I could hardly stand, let alone walk over an hour back to Liv’s place at one o’clock in the morning. I collapsed on the queen sized bed closest to the door and put myself into a fetal position, hugging a pillow.

Rosie came over to the doorway side of the bed and knelt down, then softly whispered, “I love you Clair. I am so sorry. Forgive me? Please marry me?”.

I felt sick. Rosie was so desperate at that moment to decide that then was a good time to ask me to marry him. I sat up still hugging the pillow against my chest, forced myself to look at him and said, “No! I choose me! I choose me”.

After that slight burst of energy, I slumped back down into the bed and did my best to fight back every tear that was streaming down my cheecks.

I was beside myself. I told Rosie to stay away from me. I was exhausted. All I wanted to do was sleep and then go back to Liv’s. Rosie respected my wishes and slept on the other queen sized bed, closest to the window. Neither one of us spoke after that. The next day we drove back to Liv’s in silence. I felt defeated. I’m sure Rosie did too.

Rosie got out of his car as I was taking my bag out. He then stood in front of his car. I walked towards the side door of the house. I have no idea what made me stop and turn around to face Rosie. I suspect it was the little girl in me feeling rejected by love once again. I said “Bye Rosie. Drive safe”. Then I walked up to him, gave him a hug and backed away from him by a few feet.

“I love you”, slipped out of my mouth without a thought. Even if it did slip out, I truly felt a love for him back then. I meant what I had said. With that, Rosie got back into his car and drove away. I walked back into the house and closed the door behind me.

I was left wondering what the hell happened between Rosie, angelic forces?, and myself, the night before.  I also desperately wanted to know why I confessed love to a man who I knew was killing me inside.

My behavior and reaction at that time is a clear indication that I was still combating fear of rejection, and experiencing the withdrawal of codependency addiction. Rosie knew I am a big softy with the ones I love. After hearing me say I love you, and he echoing the words back to me, he must have driven away from me with an idea that I may still be open to his efforts. If he did think that, then he would have been correct.

Over the course of the next few weeks, I went from curiosity about the divine connection I experienced, to heart crushing sadness, to moving in with Rosie once again. Imagine that. Oh what a life. My rabbit Jack was presenting me with two doors. One door read “Journey Through Learning”. The other door read, “Learn From Your Journey”. I chose the first door.

With that, Jack gave me the key, and I ignorantly skipped my way through the doorway. Right down a deeper rabbit hole. Back to different places I had already visited a lifetime ago. I traveled physically to Montreal, spiritually to my parents house in Saint George, and was called to remember another excursion I had with grandpa Joe.

(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read this at your discretion. 18+)

As Rosie and I approached the wooden bench, we talked about his life. I asked him how his children were doing. He acknowledged that the kids were doing reasonably well. He mentioned that they missed me, and that there were still some issues surrounding their mother. I then inquired about the well-being of his mum. He acknowledged her overall well-being, then proceeded to tell me about the new house he was buying. 

Rosie didn’t tell me his mother was a co-investor in the house alongside him at that stage of our reconnection. He simply mentioned that the house was big enough for his mum to live there too. Since Rosie and I had talked briefly from time to time about us living together, and that I too welcomed his mother in a granny suite of some kind, I naively ignored the wisdom to ask him to give further details. I was genuinely happy for him. Even if I was a wee bit naive still. Oh how we learn in hindsight .

As mentioned in the previous entry of this blog series, I asked Rosie an important question when we first sat down on the bench by the stream. Pleasantries were over by this point, so I got straight down to the reason I allowed him near me. I asked him, “what have you learned about yourself since we have been apart?”.

“I know I fucked up. I don’t really know why”, he responded.

My ego was front and center. I was not sitting in a spiritual guru state whatsoever. I said, “you lied to me. You made me doubt God. You made me doubt my intuition. You were lying the entire time Rosie”.

“Not the entire time. I do love you. I wasn’t seeing you before. I’ve been watching some of your videos. I came to understand that a true apology isn’t simply the acknowledgment of an action. A true apology requires an understanding of what caused the action, how the other person would feel, and then make a commitment to course correct the behavior”, Rosie explained.

Rosie was taking notes in my absence. Not only was my ego in full bloom, she was standing at full attention after hearing those ego boosting words. Oh a man finally sees my intelligence, ego stroked. I thought to myself, keep going Rosie. What else have you come to learn from my insightful messages? (Ego, down girl, down). Eww wee, it’s important to remain humble. Check, check, double check. Lesson learned.

Rosie went on with his further love bombing. “I wasn’t paying enough attention to you. I was focused on so many different things. You told me you would love to see the fall leaves. I didn’t take you. You enjoy more affection. I wasn’t affectionate towards you very often”, Rosie explained through an interesting lens of accountability.

I say, an interesting lens because today, I can see the manipulation. First, Rosie rushed through, if not skipped over details about his extra affairs on the side. He swiftly moved into what he learned from me through my videos. He was guiding my ego. Rosie is a highly intelligent man, indeed. Next, he highlighted my desires. Which means, he knew them all along. He chose to starve me of bonding time and affection. Instead, because the relationship is at its breaking point, and Rosie had a reputation to uphold, he couldn’t predict what I would do with what I knew of him. In his mind, he was scared of me divulging all of the work I had done for him behind the scenes. He also feared the possibility of anyone from his past work history finding out certain details of some of his, not so morally attuned, decision making. In other words, Rosie truly didn’t take the time to know me.

Rosie feared I would retaliate like his ex, Gemma. He wasn’t willing to take that risk. I knew too much about him. What he was willing to do was to win me back at all costs. Then semi commit to me for as long as I remained oblivious to his true intentions. Since he knew he was starving me of quality time, and quality affection my ego so desperately needed, he knew exactly how to say sorry to the little girl inside me. With that, Rosie continued his grand love bombing ways with, “I recognize I need to put in more effort. I know you are a priority. I recognize we need to communicate more. I am truly sorry for hurting you. Please forgive me? You are my best friend”.

“Rosie, it’s really good to hear you take accountability. There are deeper reasons for why you do what you do. You said you didn’t know why you cheated. It’s best you figure that out. You have a pattern of it. You cheated on Gemma with me. You cheated on me. Did you cheat on your eldest son’s mother as well?”.

Rosie responded in the affirmative. I then followed his confirmation with, “you gotta go back in your life and see from your younger self’s perspective. Understand what is causing these impulses inside of you. Get to the root of your fear of commitment. Also, it would be wise to ask your mum some questions about your dad. You have missing pieces. You’re curious, yet you won’t ask her about any details?”

At that point, other nature walkers approached. My legs also needed a stretch. We decided that it was our cue to get up and start walking back to the car.

“I know I should talk with my mom about it. I do wonder how I came to be. Why I don’t have siblings, and why I don’t have a dad. It’s a bit challenging to talk with my mom about it. Perhaps conceiving me was hard for her?”, Rosie explained.

“Well, you would know a hell of a lot more about yourself if you do. I can imagine it would be challenging to talk with her about it though”.

I responded, lovingly. I had a mum who was difficult to talk to. I could empathize.

“I’ll talk about it more with my therapist”, Rosie offered up as a quick way to end that topic. I acknowledged and said, “good plan. That would probably be good for you”. With that, we were back in his car, headed towards Liv’s place.

As we drove the twenty minutes or so drive, my heart softened up to Rosie. Rosie did know how to pull at my heartstrings. I also knew how to give him the strings to hold in the bloody first place. Accountability for all must be had. I do acknowledge my naive gesture of handing Rosie my heart and mind blindly.

On the drive back, I thought about Rosie as a child, being abandoned by his dad and having a mum who worked three jobs to make ends meet. I quickly thought about my dad and the fact that parental abandonment can look like both parents are home. Sometimes having a body, with no sincere loving interaction, is abandonment. That’s the style of abandonment wound I carried. What I empathized with Rosie in his car was the fact that he was carrying a fear of abandonment. Which then fed his fear of commitment.

Empathy can be a harmful weapon for yourself sometimes. I was no different in weaponizing empathy against myself. I would empathize with a person to the point of feeling guilty if I pressed them further with the pain I felt by their actions. Empathy is my go to skill. Today, I utilize empathy in a much more discerning way. Thanks to Clairity’s helpful guidance.

Rather than observe Rosie closely, like Clairity had advised, my ego was directly focused on understanding his psyche from a victim’s perspective. I was continuing to see Rosie as a victim of his circumstances. If you recall in the last entry, Clairity whispered, “see, past what you see.” What she was referring to was look beyond your physical eyes. See the energy. See the intentions. See yourself. See the bigger picture. Observe, rather than react. I missed that part of Clairity’s class that day it seems.

As we were about to turn onto the long street Liv lived on, Rosie said, “it was really nice to see you. I miss you. Thank you so much for agreeing to see me. It means a lot to me”.

With my heart turning to mush after him saying that, I replied, “are you driving back to Montreal today?, or, are you staying at a hotel?”.

Rosie was quick to respond. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. All I knew was I needed to see you. The kids are with their mom. I just got in my car and came. I don’t have any solid plan.  The only plan I have is to stop in and see Dante for a quick visit before heading home”. Dante is Rosie’s eldest son with a different mother. He lived in a small town in New Brunswick. Closer to the border of New Brunswick and Quebec.

“I would hate for you to have to drive all the way back now. That’s too much driving, even for you. I tell ya what, how about you get a hotel room. We can play a game of dominos tonight as a last hurrah. We’ll chill and say our kind goodbyes. You could also spend more time with Dante tomorrow, rather than feel rushed seeing him tonight. Do you want to do that? No sex. Just talk and dominos?”

I had truly only intended to have a game and a gentleman’s talk. Sex was off the table.

“Yeah, I would like that”, Rosie responded with a friendly smile and equally soft energy.

When I arrived back at Liv’s, I told her the plan. I said, “Liv, I’m going to stay the night at a hotel with Rosie. We are going to play dominos and talk some more. He is headed back to Montreal in the morning. He’ll drop me back off here either tonight, or in the morning”.

“Okay mum, if you’re sure.”

With that, I packed a change of clothes just in case we would have a drink. I would rather spend the night in the same room with Rosie, than get into a car with him after drinking. I was also focused on his painful life. My pain was placed aside. My heart was aching for him, and for me. My people pleasing ego had the reigns. I was choosing to end our relationship amicably.

That night, if my memory serves me correctly, Rosie acquired a room in the hotel across the street from the hotel I had last stayed at in Fredericton, with him. It was the hotel where I found out about Rosie’s romantic trip with Gemma to Mexico. I had a flash image pop up in my mind as we passed by that hotel. The hotel stands there innocently as its symbology now attacks my mind. My association with that hotel, and the motel beside the highway, ignites a small trigger within me. It is challenging for me to see the hotel with fondness. When I see that hotel today, it still acts as a little reminder. It doesn’t help that my second husband asked me to marry him inside the hotel’s restaurant back in 2003, either. Fredericton is a small world.

It may sound strange when I say, finding out about Mexico with Gemma devastated me more than finding out he cheated on me. I dreamt of a romantic holiday with my loving partner for so long by then. Decades even. I didn’t have a real honeymoon. Any trip I did go on with either of my husbands had been tarnished with a memory of their chosen behavior. Today, having a genuine loving, adventurous, and equally relaxing holiday with my special person, is imperative for my mental and emotional health.

I can cut a man off for cheating and remain healthier in mind easier than I can forget and heal from that trip to Mexico. It still hurts me today. The remainder of that healing will occur when I replace the memory with a new empowering one. That new replacement memory would be a honeymoon with my true love. In fact, genuine true love and adventures with my person is my ultimate wish fulfillment. Earthly pleasures outside of that are a bonus for me. Rosie knew that about me all too well.

We all have sensitive topics which create triggers. You are designed to metaphorically sit alone inside of yourself, whilst viewing a lifelike amphitheatre 3D screen within your mind. You are also the projector projecting the image you are subconsciously choosing to watch. With the exception of your higher self, ancestors, and the God consciousness, there is no one with you inside the dark theater. You are in your own private space. Watching your own private movie that you design, produce, and direct. Everyone else you come into contact with are the actors in your movie. They have designated roles to play. The role each person plays is determined by your direction. Your direction is determined by your perception. You choose the way the scene plays out, and with which actor you wish to interact with.

Another person views their reality the same way. It doesn’t matter who the other person is. You, as an example, may be an innocent person, and yet, experience nasty judgments and projections. When this happens, a person isn’t seeing you. They are seeing their pain through you, just like the way I view the innocent hotel as painful. In an interaction involving painful projections, the person experiencing the trigger is living in the past, whilst you would be in the present. When you get triggered by their unwarranted actions towards you, you too would subconsciously jump into your past and react from there. It’s the way our egos play with one another.

Your ego keeps you in your past and future. Your spirit keeps you in the present. When you are triggered, even if innocently by someone, you are not seeing the present. You are seeing your pain and experiencing the past all over again. It is for this reason, it is vitally important for you to be fully aware of yourself. When you are fully aware and accepting of yourself, you gain the wisdom to know when you are being a symbol for someone, and when they are simply acting as a symbol for your better understanding. When you can do that, you can see past the surface. You would be better equipped internally to accept and actively practice the saying, “never judge a book by its cover”.  You gain the ability to release the pain associated with the projections, gently, and naturally, over the remainder of your current incarnation. You no longer would be reacting from an oppressed subconscious belief. Instead you would react with a higher level of understanding and acceptance.

The hotel, and what it symbolizes for me is an excellent example of how innocence can be portrayed as evil. The hotel is a hotel, nothing more. I know that intellectually. Emotionally, the hotel is devastation and heartache. The pain I have at the moment overrides the logic behind the projection I am sending towards the hotel. My perception is out of the hotel’s, and it’s associates’ control. The perception is within me to alchemize. I’m getting there slowly and surely.

Rosie brought vodka and lemonade for himself, and a coconut rum drink for me that night. Rosie knew coconut rum was hard for me to resist. He was also being somewhat thoughtful. He thought to bring my favorite drink as well, Malibu rum. Normally he would have only brought vodka for his personal liking. Malibu rum was a special treat for me. I was being treated that night.

I sat on the curved arm chair in the corner. Rosie was sitting in a table chair across from me at the table. Clairity popped in and whispered, “drink that slowly. Sip it. You have questions. Remember?”

With Clairity’s loving advice in mind, I sipped the Malibu like it was an 18 year Glenfiddich. Nice and slow. After a game or two of dominoes, I was craving a vape. “I’m going to pop outside for a few minutes to vape and have a bit of smokie. My legs are restless. The smokie will help me get ready for sleep”, I explained.

“Okay. I’ll come with you.”

With that, Rosie and I went outside to a designated smoking area. It was after midnight at this point, so it was nice and quiet. Fredericton is a tiny city. Not much really goes on after 11 pm in the area of town where we were staying.

Whilst I was standing outside with a little joint in hand, Rosie got out a cigarette. “Yeah, I started smoking again”, he sheepishly said with the light of his lighter.

That was a little red flag I chose to acknowledge silently. He kept smoking quiet from me up until then. It seemed Rosie was still comfortable with keeping secrets. I took a mental note of that and said, “no worries. It’s understandable with all the stress”. He only found out about my addiction that night as well. Who was I to judge?

After our smoke Rosie and I went back inside, with me not realizing spirit had a plan to get him to fess up what he was still hiding from me. I knew I had channeled spirits from time to time in my past. Channeling a supposed angel was not on my bucket list of things to do. The evening, and following weeks’ events were just getting started.

(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)

There I was, sitting in my bedroom, inside Liv’s place, doing heavy inner reflection, and talking with Clairity, when all of a sudden, Liv came into the doorway of my room and announced, “Mum, Rosie’s here”.

“He’s what? Where?” I said in wide eyed shock.

One thing about the universe, when there is something valuable to learn, you never see it coming. Hearing Liv tell me Rosie was in New Brunswick, let alone in her driveway, knocked me right smack back into a full blown ego state. With that said, I did grow a fair bit by then. Some of my ego states were no longer a trapped little girl. My ego was a big girl that day. With that said, I also had much to learn.

I was in the beginning stages of healing. I was doing my best to come to terms with my spirituality being shaken. I was rebuilding my connection and trust in all that is. I was coming to a better understanding of my trauma based patterns. I had made some connections when it came to Rosie’s intelligence, and some of his behavior which were similar to that of my dad. I had to come to terms with the fact that I allowed Rosie to convince me that my intuition was incorrect. That the loving guidance I received from Clairity was wrong. That I was not seeing things clearly. I had to come to the agonizing terms that Rosie manipulated me into doubting my intuition from the first time I learned of Wendy in 2020. I questioned God, right up until spirit helped me to find Rosie’s colorful little pleasure treasure box in 2023.

Between the beginning of April, 2023, through to mid July, 2023, I only started to become increasingly sensitive to Clairity’s frequency. I had also only recently requested my heart back from God. I felt I was taking my life back.

I was making videos on TikTok offering a different perspective on life events. I was starting to feel better. It’s amazing what three months of isolation away from those who torment a heart, can do for your soul. I was healing. I was not depleted of love. I’m not certain I could ever be fully depleted of love. If that were the case, love would have been gone from me a long time ago. The love I had for Rosie was still within me from my ego’s perspective. The little girl in me wanted to continue to see Rosie’s potential. Rather than who Rosie truly was at that time. Everyone has potential. Some can take several lifetimes to realize.

I continue to have love for Rosie today. The love I continue to send him is sent from a spiritual perspective, and from a different light, at a distance. Today, I love him for both his light side and his dark side. I see both within him. I see him more clearly today than I have ever been able to see him. Therefore, I maintain a loving distance, permanently.

I’m certain Clairity respectfully pulled her energy back the moment the shocking truth of Rosie’s whereabouts became known. It was either that, or, my ego pushed her away enough for her to poof right out of my awareness for a moment. Clairity was there more as a quiet observer, rather than as a strongly active guide.

It’s amazing, the moment of a presented trigger, our minds instantly take us back to a younger stage in our personal evolution. How one trigger creates a tidal wave of emotions not yet identified, nor have come to terms with within ourselves. We instantly become a child once again. It amazes me how that works. Knowing this to be true within me anyway, helps me to see the innocence within other people, including Rosie.

Have you noticed that pattern? Having a difficult time managing your emotions during a familiar experience? Children learn their experienced emotions with the help of their leaders and peers. Adults utilize what they learned about their emotions in childhood. When a child doesn’t receive guidance on how to manage their emotions through identifying what they are, within the entire emotional spectrum, the adult version of them will exude the emotion their inner child is stuck on. 

Once the inner child becomes stuck, the adult version resorts to their inner teenager for defense. The inner teenager is held inside because the inner teenager is programmed to protect the smaller child within. When the smaller inner child is scared or hurt, the inner teenager takes over. Impulsively, an adult then acts out the way a pissed off teenager or hurt teenager would react.

I’ve come to learn, not through standardized education, rather through my observations, and Clairity’s insight, that if an inner teenager grew into an “everyone for themselves when it comes to love and money” thinking adult, the adult ended up with a trapped, self-centeredness perception later in life. Empathy tends to elude this reality. Instead, analytics and the physical pursuit of happiness takes center stage. Creating a blockage in perception as it relates to other people’s feelings.

If the teenager inside the adult had grown to see emotional pain and material gain as bad, they likely developed a skewed sense of love and empathy over time. In this instance, me included, hurt empathetic adults tend to defend themselves by demanding their emotions be heard. Thoughts and expressions of an extreme empathetic person can sound similar to “you don’t understand me! You keep ignoring me. My feelings don’t matter! You have no empathy!”. Sometimes those thoughts can play out in their reality like a broken record skipping a beat to the point of insanity.

Over time, through compounding triggers, narcissists, and empaths are born. Two beautiful children fighting with their perception of love and what it means for themselves. When I became an adult, I metaphorically gave birth to an empathic people pleaser who refused to see the natural darkness in another. I stubbornly focused on the light side of people. With Rosie, I was no different. I was only willing to glimpse his shadow, not actually confront it.

If you experience this phenomena from time to time, yay, you’re a creation with energy in motion. In other words, congratulations, you are perceived as normal. You can only create boundaries from the awareness of the gaps in your loving perception. By recognizing your trigger, where it is coming from, and what you chose to believe in yourself based off of that knowledge, you can create a respectable boundary. The next challenge is keeping your boundary firmly in place.

Triggers are an integral part of life. They help you to identify a hidden pattern. The trigger is a big clue to an unsolved case in your past. The experience for the trigger is your universe’s gentle, or violent, nudge to look at it more thoroughly. When you experience a trigger, you are telling yourself that your inner child perceived a crime being committed against you.

Your inner child is stuck with an exam paper confused on the way to solve it. Your inner child can only see the crime, not the evidence. Evidence is always found in hindsight. To release yourself from a trigger, you must lovingly educate the trapped version of you. The child in you who doesn’t understand why you had to experience something so painful. The child who is having a hard time extracting their higher wisdom from it.

With Rosie, my little girl was still questioning, why? The woman in me, stands by a certain perspective. That perspective is this; rather than judge a person based on their past, judge a person based upon what they have learned about themselves because of their past. Rosie and I had a past. I was curious to know what he had learned from it.

I had gone to visit Liv in her new place a couple of times before this shocking tower moment. Rosie had driven me there so he was familiar with where she had lived. “He’s standing in the driveway. He’s been out there for a good while”, Liv explained.

Liv saw Rosie when she was outside in the back area enjoying a smoke. She came into the house to let me know he was there. My first thought was, what do I do? My second thought was to take a deep breath. My third was to recognize the anxiety welling up inside of my stomach, and the knot I felt upon hearing he had shown up at our door. I didn’t feel the shudder up my spine which alerts a sense of danger within me. I was respecting Clairity’s advice to the best of my ability by checking in with myself though. 

I acknowledged what Liv said, whilst slightly attuned to Clairity’s frequency. “Okay dear. I’ll go see what he wants”.

Clairity whispered, “be observant. Stay calm. See, past what you see.”

I acknowledge Clairity as I was standing in the designated smoking area at the back of the house. I took another deep breath. Then two steps down onto the driveway.

“Hi”, I said loud enough for Rosie to hear. He was standing about twenty-five feet away from me, nearer to the end of the driveway. He was about to get back into his car. He must have been contemplating knocking on the door, then thought better of it. I suspect he was about to get back into his car, drive up to a gas station, park, then text me to say he was in town. I didn’t have my own car. He had no idea who’s car was who’s in the driveway. He didn’t know if I was home or not, so him thinking to text me away from the house made sense to me.

Rosie turned around and said “hey.” He was definitely anxious. We both were. Without him moving a muscle, Rosie stood there and asked in a friendly manner “can we talk? Can we go for a drive somewhere, please?”

“Sure, okay”, I agreed. Whilst simultaneously shooing Clairity away from my conscious awareness. Her wise voice popped in for a moment to make certain I was comfortable with proceeding. “Are you sure you want to do this?”, was all Clairity asked. I sighed and thought, fuck it. Rip the bandaid off. Let’s do this.

“Let me go in and tell Liv, and grab a smokie and vape to take with me.” I said that without caring what he thought of my vaping nor smoking weed. That was a first for me, not caring what he thought.

Rosie quickly acknowledged, “okay, sounds good.” With that, Rosie got back into his car. I went inside and told Liv that I was headed out the door with Rosie and that I would be returning in an hour or so. Liv looked at me with a, “are you certain?”, expression upon her face. I looked at her and asked, “baby can I grab a smokie off ya?”, followed by, “everything is okay baby. I know what I am doing. I’ve got this.” With that, I had Mary Jowana in my pocket, and Vapolicious hugged in my right hand.

Side note, I am affirming that vaping is a thing of my past. I am lovingly reducing this addiction without creating pressure for myself. I enjoy the benefits of marijuana. My plan is to eliminate the smoke and change to another health conscious option. My lungs and heart deserve loving rest. I grant this to myself.

I got into Rosie’s beautiful black car. He had a rather rare Acura at that time. We decided to get a coffee so we drove to the local, commonly known in Canada, coffee shop, Tim Hortons. Otherwise affectionately known as, Timmy’s.

Rosie and I opted for the drive-thru. After we got our coffees, I suggested we go to a nature trail I was familiar with nearby. Liv, her family, and I had gone there several times during the three months of mine and Rosie’s, then separation.

Rosie may be intimidating. I know he would never hit me. He may physically fight another male if he had to. With that said, he was not a physically aggressive man in general. He was energetically threatening and highly manipulative, not physical. I knew my physical safety was fine with him at that time. With that, we drove to the trail, parked, then walked inside the forest in silence whilst sipping our coffees.

Rosie was intuitively following my lead. I was leading us to a bench I was familiar with. As mentioned in previous posts, my legs require frequent rest. After about five minutes of walking, we came to the wooden carved bench that sat right by a gentle stream.

“What are some things you have reflected on Rosie?”, was the first question I had asked him upon being seated.

The question now is, were his answers to my questions sincere?, or, had he mastered the art of manipulation and was simply behaving? One thing I can say is, he was a Master Teacher. I was an excellent student. Not without agonizing pain though. What came next floored me.

(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)

When I had first moved to New Brunswick in 1999, both my girls and I had stayed with my parents. My parents were living in a quaint, two bedroom, open concept home, with a waterfront view. Three adults, two babies under the age of four, and a boxer breed dog, all cozied up together. Fun times.

Whilst we lived there, my parents bought a cute three bedroom, second home, further into the town of St. Stephen, with the intent that Albert, our children, and I would live there.

The ideal plan was that Albert and I would be able to assist them with the mortgage once my mother’s business was successful enough to pay me a wage, and upon Albert securing healthy employment. In other words, we would rent from my parents.

When I first moved into the new house, I believe it was May, 01, 1999, not a hundred percent certain on that, I was under a wee bit of stress. The girls and I were having to adjust to my forty percent wage cut. I was collecting unemployment insurance, whilst focused on attracting new clients for my mum’s employment agency. My mum worked full time, whilst maintaining a communicative relationship with a couple of clients, and her contract employees. Albert was focused on monthly bills and a new lady friend in Ontario.

One evening, whilst the girls were sleeping, I was chatting away on this really cool, new introduction to communication, called, dial up Internet. Back then, chatrooms were a thing. Perhaps they still are today? I don’t really know. Anyway, as I was chatting with a lovely lady in England, an apparition of a man stood to my left hand side, staring at me. He wasn’t an apparition from the ghostly sense of seeing him. His apparition was so strong in the forefront of my mind, it was as if I was projecting his image outside of me. Does this make sense? As if I was the projector, and he was the image on the screen.

I started to feel his presence upon seeing him. It was no different in sensation than any male dominant energy would be when a person is standing beside you. Similar to that of a stranger standing beside you in a coffee shop.

Have you ever met someone and felt an unusual vibe? Either there is something about them you didn’t like, or, you did like their vibe, without really knowing them at all? If so, then you can relate to the sensation I was experiencing when I became aware of the “ghostly” presence.

The man was just a nonthreatening energy standing beside my computer screen just to the left of me. At first, he was a stranger. Soon enough he filled me in on intimate details of his life, and family. The woman in England over the internet confirmed all his details. The experience was fascinating to me to say the least.

The man startled me at first. I had only experienced spirit through my dream state, or upon being gently awakened. I had not experienced anything like the man beside me before then.

I was just about to turn twenty-six years old at the time. My birthday was only a couple of weeks away. Twenty-five years of no daytime woohoo set me up for a wee bit of a shock I tell ya.

I must have been quiet long enough to prompt the woman I was communicating with to inquire as to my whereabouts. Upon her inquiry, I explained what I was experiencing. The woman asked me to describe the man. I did. The woman affirmed she knew whom I was communicating with. From that moment on, I focused on the man. The man focused on me. We then connected energetically so that he could take me somewhere in my mind. I put my ego aside and trusted what I was being shown.

Energy is connected simply by focused thought. When the man and I focused on each other, we became one in thought. My mind was blown away by the end of my experience with the Star of David man.

I refer to the apparition as the Star of David man because that was the symbol he showed me when he was giving a message to his wife on the earthly plain. The symbol was a secret code between him and his wife as a way to prove there is life after life. It was truly fascinating.

There is no need at this stage to go into too much detail about the experience, other than what I have just told you here. Doing so would dilute the purpose for Clairity’s loving prod to remember the event. For now, I’ll simply state, that was the first time I experienced being in two places at once. I was sitting in one place, typing to a woman on a computer screen, whilst also counting the stairs inside the woman’s home in England inside my mind. Cool beans.

I remembered the Star of David Man when Clairity asked me if I did. The experience is as vivid to me today as it was when I experienced it in 1999. It seemed my remembering the male apparition became a perfect segue for Clairity to then ask, “Excellent. What happened internally when you came to know of Albert’s infidelity?”.

That was a good question. I must admit. When Clairity asked me that, I did a little side smile, contemptuous smirk Then chuckled a wee bit.

I remember. It was May, 4th, 1999. I was sitting in the kitchen at the dining room table. I had a black and grey wireless house phone in my hand. I had attempted to reach Albert to discuss baby expenses and to see if he had a way to put some money into our joint bank account. I was having a difficult time reaching him.

It was late evening. The girls were tucked in bed, fast asleep. I asked if Albert was okay in my mind. The response I received took me for a loop. “He is speaking with a woman friend”, a soft voice whispered subtly. My next thoughts were in rapid succession. What?! Who? When? How?, What, right now? Is he cheating on me?!”

That information sent me into a bit of a tizzy. I wasn’t exactly expecting to hear a voice say there was a female. My thoughts were running a mile a minute. Then my mind jumped into the past when he was making out with his “best friend” on a sofa. Whilst I was sleeping on the floor right in front of them. That was right around the same time as the abortion he “encouraged” me to do. Good times. Needless to say, my, little girl, ego, was triggered and had something to say.

“Clair, is getting worked up like this going to help you?”, Clairity asked, almost rhetorically.

My thought was no. Having a tangent wasn’t going to help in any way. Especially being two provinces away from the man who just crushed my heart. All I wanted to do was run away and hide to be honest. Then I thought of my babies sleeping soundly upstairs in their beds. I had to be calm, and smart. If not for me, for them.

I took a few deep breaths, noticed my jumping knee calmed down enough to sit still, then phoned Albert one more time. Albert answered.

“Hey Clair, what’s up? How are the girls? Are they still awake?”

My greeting was, “who is she?”

His next question to me was, “what do you mean, who is who?”

My next statement to him was, “I already know about her. Just tell me exactly who she is.”

Albert’s deflective response was, “that’s none of your business. Who told you anyway?”

I paused for a moment, then said, “you just did”.

His final response to me before I hung up the phone on him was, “fuck Clair, I hate it when you do that!”.

Albert ultimately ratted himself out. With the help of the guiding voice. I say a guiding voice because I didn’t realize the voice was Clairity back then. I was under the impression it was the spirit woman who had saved me from the pedophile when I was nine. I assumed that spirit was Sarah, my grandpa Joe’s wife.

As soon as you find a puzzle piece, your puzzle grows bigger. Not all is as it seems. If there is one thing I have learned, the truth always comes out. All a person needs to do, is be receptive to receive it, and be present to distinguish what it is.

I wasn’t exactly sure where Clairity was going with her line of questioning. With that said, I was intrigued. I do enjoy talking about my spirit adventures alongside my intuition. I rarely speak on the subject to the extent of divulging mine or another person’s privacy. Having Clairity helps me revisit those memories fondly without having to break my integrity.

“What sensation did you get inside you moments before asking if Albert was okay in your mind?”

As soon as she asked that, I clued in. The feeling which came over me was a sudden foreboding knot in my stomach. Followed by a full body shudder.

“Yes. Clair, if you notice, you will come to see, you had a sensation inside of you every time you encountered a deceitful person. Do you remember the feeling inside of you when the teenager asked you to pull down your pants and get on his lap when you were little?”

Yes, I do remember. It was the same sensation that came over me then as well.

“Yes Clair. Okay, now, what was the inner sensation you experienced when you came to learn of the indoor tennis courts being closed? When you were saved from the necklace man by spirit?”

It was the exact same feeling. It was sudden, harsh, and difficult to ignore.

“Yes Clair. What have you come to learn from these difficult experiences?”

I have learned that, just like anything in life, there are patterns when it comes to internal sensations. These patterned responses within you act as a signal to alert you of important information. When a person is distraught, afraid, or unwilling to see the truth due to denial, intuition becomes secondary. This is unfortunate because by all accounts, your intuition must be your utmost go to source before making any final decisions. To do that, you must be willing to know yourself intimately.

Clairity went on further to say, “people experience traumatic events. Many people, you included, came to believe there is such a thing as a cruel God because of these experiences. This couldn’t be farther from the truth. There are an infinite amount of reasons for a soul’s chosen experience. With that in mind, one purpose for these events is to help a soul reconnect with their divine selves through the form of intuition. What other way would there be, if not through the navigation of danger?

It is also equally important to understand, it is not for us to interfere with your free will. We can only manipulate energy in such a way that it alerts you. What you do with the information is entirely up to you. If you choose to focus on the perpetrator or the promise of something better, you lose sight of the powerful gift being given to you. The gift of your acutely defined intuition. Your intuition is the root of a flower underneath the surface. Your discernment is the foliage being expressed externally. They grow together.

Rather than focus on the perpetrator, which only allows you to experience oppression, switch your focus to the empowering skill you are developing. Your intuition. Doing so is far more advantageous for you. Doing so also keeps the lines of communication open with spirit.

Communication is subtle on a regular basis. If people were less focused on the idea of some lightning bolt style of communication, they will come to see, how truly expansive their awareness is.

Clair, you only listened to your intuition when it was unexpected and perceived as being outside of you. Doing that causes your intuition to come in after using naive discernment. Do you understand now that you must listen inside first. Otherwise you will be taken advantage of, rather than respected?

You do also recognize that you must adjust yourself based on what you are experiencing inside? Do you recognize the importance of trusting it even when it doesn’t make much sense at the time?”

Yes, I most certainly do.

Everything we experience, we experience in the moment. Everything we learn, we learn through hindsight. One must be had in order to experience the other. Both are required for growth.

Having that newly adopted mindset, and understanding some of the patterns to look for when dealing with people who are hurting, softened me up a bit to Rosie when he reached out. I may have listened to Clairity long enough to understand the importance of listening to my intuition. I wasn’t quite on par with actually trusting it just yet. I was still skipping the class, Love Bombing 101.

Am I really going back to Montreal?

(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)

A little over a year ago, I started to purposefully talk to my God as if the omnipresence was walking beside me.

I say “Okay God, tell me a story. I know you always show me the truth. What’s important for me to know today?”.

Once I send that request out, I quiet my mind and observe my surroundings. Doing this sudden inspired exercise created a stronger link between Clairity and I.

Clairity’s guidance has gotten increasingly stronger since I opened up to the idea of a daily spiritual conversation. Before then, I had the perception that I had no control over my choices in understanding spirit. Today, I perceive spiritual guidance very differently. Today, I am continuing to build a language with spirit through signs, symbols, synchronicities, and messages in threes. Through this studied language, along with my natural sensitivity to energy, I have come to the awareness of the importance of being present as often as possible.

“There are clues for you to discover all around you. When you are at peace with your past, and confident enough in the present with what you are creating for your future, you can maintain the energy required to be fully present. When you can be fully present, you gain a smoother transition inside your awareness to be able to see from your godly perspective. From universal truths. From higher wisdom. From your higher mind, in both frequency, and vibration.

When you are acting out past and future ego driven thinking, present gifts being presented to you are quite easily overlooked or mistaken. There is no fault, nor shame, only experiences to learn from. If you have a difficult time remaining present, use your thoughts to guide you to what’s nagging you. Ask yourself questions. Remain as neutral as you can possibly be. Go back to the memory which triggered the emotional discomfort. Identify it and take note, including your deeper feelings you are carrying at present which are associated with the trigger.

Keep asking yourself questions. Avoid using harsh judgment. Avoid placing blame. Avoid focusing on other people’s roles and actions in the beginning.

Your message usually comes in threes. Go back even further in your mind to discover another experience which was similar. A memory which triggered feelings which were unkind and familiar. Identify the memory. Take note of all involved. Pay mind to the similarities, including the way you truly felt during that experience.

Go back again if you can. As mentioned, most messages come in threes. Earthly expression would consider the experience to be karmic in nature. Once you see a consistent message, you can begin to identify a hidden pattern within you. It is at that moment, you begin to put some of your puzzle pieces together. You unravel your past to re-sew your future.

Now my wonderful friend, it’s important to know, many overlook gifts of knowledge and guidance on a regular basis.  When a person is constantly in the past, or future in their mind, they are choosing ignorance over knowledge within that same timeline.

Further to this, when a traumatized person has a present experience, they can inadvertently use another person as a reflection to remind them about what they disbelieve within themselves. Once this occurs, an increase in denser energy is created. Sending out waves of vibration, which affects the upward or downward spiral motion of energy.

Unfortunately when this occurs over a long duration, a person gets lost in the absence of truth. Including Clair, over her personal journey thus far. She too chose ignorance at one time. Today she is more receptive with choosing self awareness over harsh criticisms of herself and others. It is my intention the knowledge you read whilst on this journey with Clair, sparks further interest in you to continue to explore your own powerful mind as well.

Unfortunately many people live a life obliviously ungrateful. Thinking their prayers are not being answered, or, they are being punished for wrong doings. There is more to you. There is more to life.

Take gratitude for instance. Gratitude is a consistent state of present awareness. There is more to it than the acknowledgment of your family, talents, and material gains.

Gratitude can also be weaponized. Quite often a person in ego will accuse someone of being ungrateful for a gift or service being provided. In truth, what is occurring is, one soul perceives value differently than the other. One may see a diamond as value. Whereas another may see travelling as value. When each gives what they value to someone who is focused on other forms to be grateful for, the receiver is perceived as ungrateful. Once this occurs, accusations and resentment are fostered, creating denser energy.

Once friction and tension between two grateful souls, due to perceived ungratefulness intensifies, egos are hurt. Believing they are ungrateful, or being taken advantage of for not valuing the same things. Gratitude is not meant to be a weapon. Gratitude is for your own confidence, value, and connections to all which encompass your life experiences.

Yes, it is important to be grateful for what you have. It is equally important to be grateful to your ancestors and guides along your way. They are the ones who are giving you loving guidance and signs for you to follow. Even when you are somewhere else within your mind and unable to remain in the present. You are loved. You are being guided. It is the present where you can best perceive what’s being laid down. You must be actively present to build your personal language with the divine.

In order to build your language, you must be at peace enough within yourself to perceive us. Those souls who are lost find it difficult to see clearly that they too are important and guided equally. They do not need to carry other people’s energy. Denser energy is heavy and is often carried unknowingly. This denser energy becomes a wall. Rather than a thin veil for us to whisper through effortlessly.

Every soul involved in a difficult encounter could produce massive waves of denser energy out around them. Which then affects other vibrations, and frequency levels within their personal timeline. They perhaps unknowingly, send small ripples of energy. Resulting in creating a disturbance in potential future outcomes. 

The push towards, or, a pull away of energy upon sending this expression, can result in delays, or alterations in ideal manifestations. From there, energy spreads from one person to another. Like the way a butterfly creates wind which affects you as they approach to land upon you. Your energy, like that of the motion produced from a butterfly’s wing, gets sent out in ripples invisible to the naked eye. These ripples when strong enough can produce waves into the world around you. The world around you then responds back. Those who are vibing at the same frequency merge into the ripple to create a wave, adding to yours.

Great minds think alike, and fools rarely differ. There is always someone readily available to agree with you and your belief system. Even when you send ripples of oppressive energy. Someone will be attracted to you. Their signal, combined with the sound wave you send, creates harmonious music between you both. Be it low vibration, high vibration, or somewhere in between. Your frequency matches, even when your conscious thoughts don’t.

Others who vibrate in a higher frequency get pulled away with the current. They become naturally repelled by the oppressive energy being emitted. Higher frequency vibrations scatter. They tune into their own frequency and their like minded people. Whilst denser energy collects. Producing waves that can grow bigger. Resulting in denser collective mindsets. Therefore, oppressed community living is experienced.

When a person stays in dense energy long enough, they can establish a perpetual negative cycle of thinking experiences within their mind. It becomes increasingly challenging to muster up lighter energy from a higher frequency to do self reflection, and understanding. This sadly results in a soul believing they have been forgotten by spirit who are always guiding them. They feel lost, confused, trapped in fear, depression, and anxiety,  unable to see our messages.

People remain unaware of how to create their personal language with spirit. Your language is there for you to study. It’s always within your grasp to establish. All you must do is open your mind to the possibilities. Your loved ones are with you. Trust, you are being lovingly guided.

Ask yourself some questions. You may hear wisdom give you an answer.” ~ Clairity.

There are still variants in frequency and vibration between Clairity and I for the most part. Some days it is easier to distinguish them. Other days I almost feel like I am vibrating closer to her. It’s like my ego is fully resting in a peaceful state. On those days, Clairity can take over my mind completely. It’s as if my ego floats into Clairity’s awareness. Rather than the other way around.

My daughter, Liv, has also pointed out that she can hear an English accent coming from my speech every now and then. I have been living in Canada since 1976. The only time you would hear English words coming from me would be when I was intoxicated, or swearing because I hurt myself.

Three common expressions I would use are “Oiye!”, to get someone’s quick attention, or, “bloody hell. That hurt”, when I hurt myself, and finally “you bloody pillock”, when someone walked into a wall or did something silly.

I recognize today, calling someone a pillock, is not the kindest thing to do. I used to call myself one all the time. My dad said that phrase a fair bit as well. I do refrain from saying that today, as best I can anyway. I also pronounce the word garage differently than most English speaking Canadians. To quote my father; “you don’t spell the word garage with two r’s. It’s ga.r.age, not ga.rr.ahge”.

Now that I think about it, that also sounds like Ron Weasley in Harry Potter And The Philosopher’s Stone, when he said “it’s  levi.Oh.sah., Not levioh.Sah”, referring to Hermione Granger. Funny. Anyway, other than those slip of the tongues, I’d say overall, I sound Canadian just like the rest of the awesome Canadians you could meet on the street.

When Liv said “mum, you’re sounding rather English at the moment”, I thought, hmm curious. I am not entirely sure what is happening within me. What I can say is, I love my mind. I love my connection to spirit. I love that there is a distinction in voices inside my awareness. This has always been, and still does, act as a loving reminder that I am never truly alone.

My mind does drift to memories of communicating with spirit throughout my life. I have always wondered what the reason was for my odd way of experiencing my perception. I have wondered, in what way, does this sensitive awareness of energy play in my life going forward?

As of late, my mind has also been recalling one particular dream to the forefront of my awareness. There must be a reason, usually determined in hindsight, for me being encouraged to share it with you in this blog series. I plan to in time.

For now, Clairity is once again calling for my attention. It seems it’s best I introduce you to a question Clairity had posed to me during my healing with Liv, in 2023. After I found out about Rosie’s infidelity.

“You have held much pain throughout your life. Most of your pain has been established through men’s conscious choices and actions. This is true and worthy of acknowledging. With that said, there are layers to you Clair. Always remember that. What were you teaching yourself? What were you developing over the long run?”

Excellent question, I thought, and to which I knew the answer.

My intuition was strong at birth, then weakened by my choice to ignore it during difficult life experiences.

“Yes, Clair. Do you recall what you were doing before your intuition spoke to you of Albert’s infidelity?”, Clairity said, with her nudging reminder.

I do remember. I was sitting at my computer talking with someone online. My first fully “awake” experience with a communicating spirit had occurred the week beforehand. What an experience that was.

(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)

I worked for Yellow Pages from July, 1992 through to April, 1999, and then again from July 2000 to April, 2001.

During my initial employment at Yellow Pages, Albert and I had two beautiful babies. My eldest, Olivia, was born in November, 1996. Laura, my youngest, was born in December, 1997.

In between my maternity leaves, I advanced myself within the graphics design department at Yellow Pages. I became so familiar with the different clerical jobs throughout the department, to the point where I was designated as a floater. In fact, they created that role for me. No one else floated between the front entry clerks, to the back end quality assurance department like I did. Anytime an area became back logged, I helped to pick up the slack. The only area I was not qualified to assist in was with the artists themselves. I was familiar with all things clerical. The wages I was making back then were anywhere between twenty dollars an hour, to twenty-five dollars an hour. The wage depended on the job function I was working on. Decent pay in my mind back in 1999.

After a while of me working the evening shifts from 4:00 pm to midnight each day, and Albert working the day shift from 8:00 am until 5:00 pm each day, a strong rift between us developed. We were living like roommates, with two small children needing all our attention during the week. On the weekends we were doing our family duties. Including grocery shopping, and new clothes shopping for growing babies.

If you’re a parent, you know what responsibilities come with energetic babies. Fun times. Wouldn’t you agree? Said with a wink and a smile.

If we weren’t doing regular housekeeping duties, we were off visiting Albert’s family. Sunday evenings I went out to play bingo. I had to get back to the night shift hours. I have never been one for watching tellie for all hours. I prefer to be active. Bingo it was. So, when you put it all together, Albert and I were in a intimate marriage, one evening a week, Saturdays.

My boss at the time, felt if I wanted to continue growing in my career, I would be smart to leave Yellow Pages. My boss felt I wasn’t living up to my fullest potential there. The ceiling for growth was too firm for me. He felt I wouldn’t be doing myself any favors staying in a place where I wouldn’t be able to grow. I am grateful to this day for his honest, and truthful insight.

With my mother offering me a position to work for her as a recruitment officer, I thought that could work. In my mind, moving to New Brunswick with work potential, and with options for Albert to work, would be a fresh start for us. Albert didn’t really like the idea. At the same time, Albert also agreed that the way we were living wasn’t working for our marriage either. After my pleas for a new start, Albert agreed to the move, reluctantly.

After I quit my job at Yellow Pages in April, 1999, my father came to get me and our girls. He picked us up in his vehicle that was pulling a U-Haul trailer attached to it. I fit as much of my stuff as I could fit. Along with our girls toys, movies, clothing, bedding, and baby needs. The plan was for Albert to keep working where he was at, whilst looking for work over the internet, and wait for the sale of our first home.

I left almost everything we owned at the house with Albert. Albert also opted to keep the Caravan whilst I was left with a small two-door sporty thing of a car for me and our girls. I didn’t mind. I figured we would have the van and everything sorted when he came to be with us. Life didn’t go according to plan.

I think Grandpa Joe knew what was in store for me next. He knew of Albert’s hidden plans. I believe that knowledge was what prompted Grandpa Joe to come visit me one night. He hadn’t visited me since before I moved in with Albert. Grandpa Joe’s intention was to eleviate some denser energy I was carrying. He knew if I kept holding onto it, I would not have had the strength for what was going to happen next in my life. To me, seeing Grandpa Joe was a lovely surprise.

One night in May, 1999, just a few days into living in a new house my parents purchased for me to live in, my Grandpa Joe came to see me through a dream. In this dream, I was walking on asphalt, across a dimly lit, expansive, and empty parking lot. It was nighttime in my dream. I could see the wet glistening ground under each light post. That told me it must have rained at some point. As I continued to walk, I noticed two tall buildings in front of me. In between these buildings was a slender alley way. The alley way was also dimly lit. As I approached the alley, two silhouettes appeared. One large, and one small. As they walked closer to me I could see that the person was my Grandpa Joe. He was holding the hand of a small child.

“Hi Clair”, Grandpa Joe greeted me in his usual soft, casual manner. “Hi Grandpa Joe. Who’s this?”, I asked with keen curiosity. I looked down at the small child, then back up into Grandpa Joe’s blue eyes in complete bewilderment. Grandpa Joe never brought a child to me before then.

“Look again”, Grandpa Joe instructed, as he nodded his head downward, and towards his left. He was referring to the small child. I looked back at the small child, only this time, I looked into the child’s eyes. I gasped in shock.

“That’s Olivia!” I exclaimed with excitement. “Yes dear. She only waited another minute. Time isn’t the same here as it is there. There is a reason for everything. There is much to learn from your experience. Hating yourself isn’t one of them. Now close your eyes dear”. I closed my eyes in my dream, and then instantly woke up in my bed.

Liv was conceived approximately two years after the first baby’s conception, almost to the day, and was due around the same day as the first baby. Liv and the first baby would have had the same zodiac sign, if not actual birthday. Do you consider that a coincidence?, or, do you think maybe, just maybe, that’s the one minute Grandpa Joe was referring to? Do you find that to be curious as much as I do?

I responded to Clairity’s question after thinking about that dream. I said “I understand that I am not being punished for that decision. I also understand that there is nothing I can do to convince people in any direction as it relates to choices concerning pregnancy, and personal autonomy. Grandpa Joe helped me to understand greatly. What’s the reason you are bringing this up now?”

“Your Grandpa Joe mentioned that there was more to learn from the experience. What was the true reason you agreed to terminate the pregnancy? What were you afraid of?”

Ouch, that question hurt. No one enjoys criticism. Even if it is constructive and extremely helpful. I thought about it. Then truthfully responded with, “I was afraid to be alone”. 

Clairity continued, “yes, correct. When you left your parents’ home, you moved right in with Albert. You had no time to establish yourself. We have exposed you to different experts online, what have you come to learn about this fear?”

I learned that I was in a codependent relationship. I was with him for the wrong reasons.

“Correct again. Good job Clair. I know this is rough. Keep going.” Clairity can be very supportive and extremely motivational at times. Her tenacious ways kick me in the arse to take accountability too. Like I said, I am my own best friend. I used to be my own worst enemy. I love how my brain works.

After that wee little pep talk, Clairity went on to ask, “how did Albert ask you to marry him?”

Albert and I were going somewhere in his car. He was driving when he passed me a ring box. “Open it”, he instructed, whilst keeping his eyes on the road. I opened the black velvet box to find a cute little, four leaf clover shaped, diamond ring.

I wasn’t sure what kind of ring it was. I rarely wore jewelry then. I have no jewelry now. You could consider me ignorant to that sort of thing.

I placed the ring on my right finger and said thank you to Albert. Albert responded with “why are you putting it on that finger?” I said I didn’t know.

“Why wouldn’t I? Isn’t that what it is for?”. “No. It’s an engagement ring.”, he clarified.

“You didn’t even ask me.” I retorted back. “Well then, consider us engaged”, was Albert’s last remark.

With that, I said okay. Then placed the ring on my left ring finger. That was it. That was Albert’s well thought out proposal.

“What’s the reason you accepted such a weak gesture for an engagement?” Wow Clairity can be brutal sometimes.

When Albert asked me to marry him, it was the summer after my twentieth birthday. I was still in mental and emotional turmoil over the abortion. After the procedure, all I received from Albert for my birthday was a card he bought from the hospital gift shop that read, “I’ll make it up to you.”

I also didn’t want to live with my parents. I felt stuck and hopeful that Albert would love me the way I so desperately wanted to be loved. I was willing to make sacrifices just so that I wasn’t left alone. I had invested so much of myself into Albert by that point. I said yes to him on an imagined idea of a fabulous life going forward. I said yes to an abortion out of fear of abandonment. I said yes because by then, I formed a codependent addiction within me. Without realizing it. I used my imagination to convince myself I was doing the right thing.

“Correct again” Clairity whispered softly.

“There are layers to you Clair”, Clairity continued. “There is another reason for your yes to Albert’s proposal. What was it?” Now we are going deep.

Okay, this rabbit hole was starting to really sting. I had to really think about this one.

Well, I guess not so much think, more, acknowledge and accept within me. The other reason for saying yes was because in my mind, I was already broken. My vagina had scars from him and someone else. I didn’t think anyone else would love me or want me. I figured, since Albert knew about both, I was accepted by him. That was enough for me. I chose to be with him because I didn’t believe I was beautiful. I didn’t believe I was someone anyone would love. I didn’t love myself and I was afraid to be alone.

“Truth” was Clairity’s next message. “What type of wedding did you have?, and was it your ideal ceremony?” were Clairity’s loving prodded.

I wanted a beautiful outdoor wedding with close friends and family. I was making bouquets out of fake flowers when Albert said he would prefer to elope. Again, just like with sacrificing my right to the first pregnancy, I once again sacrificed my joy of a lovely outdoor wedding. Instead, we eloped in Niagra Falls with his best friend, and his best friend’s girlfriend as our witnesses.

I wore a summer dress for my wedding gown. Albert wore a nice suite. We stood in a tiny office with a Justice of the Peace and said “I do”. That was it. None of my family attended. None of his family did either. Albert considered going to Niagra Falls to elope as a twofer. A wedding, and a honeymoon all in one place. We were there for three days total.

How does all of this relate to my dad, I wondered. With that, Clairity offered up some insightful knowledge. Through her continued prodding, I came to realize a few things.

My dad worked all hours. Albert was extremely career and money driven. Career came first in Albert’s life. The children and I were secondary. My mother, both my brother, and I, were secondary to my father’s career goals.

Remember, my mother moved with my father several times for his career growth. My mother sacrificed her career aspirations to support my dad’s vision for himself on more than one occasion.

My father was intelligent. Albert was intelligent. My father did what he wanted to do and grumbled when he felt obligated to do things with my mum. Albert and I did things he wanted to do. We rarely did things solely because I wanted to.

I don’t remember my dad taking my mum out on too many dates. Albert didn’t take me out either. Oh there are definite patterns emerging. The breadcrumbs I was collecting were starting to make a snack sized treat.

Thank goodness for Grandpa Joe’s loving message to me about my daughter. I definitely needed it. What came next was what Clairity wanted to discuss. Jack gave me a key. Clairity was taking me down a side quest to uncover more about my connection with the divine.

(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)

Albert, my first husband, was born and raised in Ontario, Canada. He stood about five feet, nine inches tall. He had a fairly average build and stature. Albert had curly, light brown hair, which he kept buzzed short, and beautiful blue eyes. He kept his facial hair neat with an orange, and brown haired, goatee.

Albert and I met on a blind date. A friend of Albert’s, and also an acquaintance of mine, went to my high school . She gave Albert my home phone number after I gave her permission to do so. Albert called my number and that was that. After learning from each other that we were born on the same day, two years apart, have brothers who were born a day apart, one year apart from each other, and have mothers who shared the same first and middle name, intrigued us enough to want to meet in person. From that moment on, we were dating.

Albert’s a good guy. I know, even today, his heart has been in the right place over all. We had different views on life. Albert was more focused in the material realm. I was focused on building a family. Albert also preferred the finer things in life. Which is perfectly fine. With that said, he was challenged with patience when it came to purchasing his items.

Albert would buy something before we were financially comfortable enough to do so. When we bought a car, it had to be the showroom car. The car had to have the bells and whistles. Albert quite often flirted with the highest end of our budget. You would see him in designer clothing nine times out of ten. Ralph Lauren, Tommy Hilfiger, and Polo, were his go to shirts on a regular basis. For pants, he would wear designer jeans or khaki cargo of some kind.

I tended to wear whatever was available to me. With that said, I do enjoy wearing dresses. I love flowy summer dresses. They don’t have to be from a top designer brand. They do have to compliment my face and figure. I too admire the finer things in life. With that said, I have far more patience to accumulate enough resources, before making the buying decision. At least when it came to family toys anyway. Business risks are another ballgame. I was naive in my business ventures when it came to allocating funds. That’s for a different rabbit hole. Albert, he tended to take bigger risks when it came to home purchases.

Albert was also adventurous. We went on many skiing trips together, before our babies were born. Each winter, from 1992, through to 1995, we traveled to ski. Albert and I skied in Quebec, Ontario, and Vermont in the United States. My favorite was Killington, Vermont. We had a condo right on the mountain. Each day of our stay, we had to ski down the hill to get our mountain pass for the day. The condo had a cozy fireplace with a cute kitchenette. Along with a living, and bedroom area combination. It was an open concept design. All the designated living areas were located within one giant room. The only separated room was a standard bathroom.

During the summer months, Albert and I went camping in a small two person tent. My strongest memory camping would be when we camped in Alexandria Bay in Jefferson County, New York, in the year 1992. It was the summer after my high school graduation.

My father’s interests, clothing choices, and approach to material interests, were in contrast to that of Albert. My father had a practical approach to big purchases. He often bought items which were neither too extravagant, nor too cheaply made. My dad didn’t seem to require a lot of toys from my perception. He had a lot of tools he collected over the years. Later in life he took interest in building train sets in his garage. Other than that, I don’t remember my dad being flashy, nor into any form of real adventure. My dad was the middle ground kind of character in life. He would often say, “anything for a quiet and peaceful life.”

My father would grumble at the idea of traveling. Being as tall as he was, with his long legs and bummed knee, he dreaded confined spaces. He wouldn’t go on a plane, nor confine himself in a small cabin on a cruise ship, without giving his two cents on the discomfort he would feel. He didn’t express the reason behind his grumbling per say. All he would say out loud in between his muffled grumbles was “I must follow, she, who must be obeyed.” Referring to my mother. My dad had a nasty little habit of making himself look like a victim. All the while painting my mother as the tyrant whom he must please. Today I can recognize this sneaky little tactic. Back then, I was clueless.

My mother did all the planning, organizing, packing, and itinerary for their trips. My mother was adventurous. She also craved bonding time with my dad. My dad went on holiday with my mum because my mum wanted to go. My dad couldn’t care less either way. At least that was the message he gave me over the years. Albert on the other hand, did most of the planning, or joined me on the planning for our trips. Again, quite the contrast. These contrasting characteristics left me somewhat confused.

One day, whilst on another nature walk alone, I pondered a question. How is it that Albert is like my dad? I don’t get it. That’s when Clairity chimed in. “When you were dating Albert, how often did you do things that you wanted to do?” I thought about it.

I thoroughly enjoyed our skiing adventures. I also enjoyed our trip to Disneyland in Florida. Those trips were the first thing that came to my mind.

“Yes. Those adventures were fun. What I am referring to are dates. Regular, perhaps once a week, date nights. How often did Albert swoon you?”.

That was a good question. More often than not we did whatever came to his mind. If we hung out with friends, they were Albert’s friends. When we visited family, it was Albert’s extended family we went to see. When it was just the two of us, we were either shopping for Disney collectables, in his car parked somewhere, or sitting at home together.

My dad rarely did things with my mum that didn’t involve day-to-day tasks. In their later years, my mum was alone at home on a regular basis. Whilst my dad was at work or isolating himself in his garage. The dots were starting to connect.

Clairity asked me another intriguing question. “What’s the reason a painful twinge is experienced inside of you when you reminisce about the camping trip, and the skiing trip to Killington, Vermont?”

That was a question I didn’t want to have asked. I knew the answer when Clairity asked. Even now, I take deep soothing breaths when thinking about it. I am still healing from it. Thirty odd years later.

One night, during our camping trip in Alexandria Bay, Albert and I were having sex. During sex, Albert went down on me. The next day, I awoke to discomfort in my undies. My vagina was burning. We drove the long five hours drive back to Scarborough, Ontario, where we lived. Albert took me to a walk-in clinic. The doctor said I contracted herpes from Albert. The doctor pointed out a small sore that was opened on Albert’s upper lip.

I was devastated and hugely embarrassed. It certainly didn’t help that the doctor was a man either. Albert laughed. He looked at me and laughed hard whilst inside the clinic for anyone to hear. I grabbed the prescription and ran out of the clinic as fast as I could. Albert trailed behind me. He then got into his car, and proceeded to say “it’s not my fault. Shit happens. You’ll be alright.” No concern. No apology for my discomfort. We drove home in silence.

Thank goodness, every time I have done a screening, all the results have been clear. I haven’t had any physical issues since that day in 1992. I affirm my excellent health in this area remains consistent. Emotional pain had stayed with me though. Making it a challenge to visit those memories again.

“And Killington?” Clairity lovingly prodded.

During our trip to Killington that very next winter, we were again having sex. During intercourse, Albert went down on me. Whilst he was eating my taco, my mind took me on the camping trip. I couldn’t get his laughter out of my head. I wasn’t able to orgasm. Albert became annoyed with me. “For fucks sakes Clair, would you cum already!” As soon as he said that, I was triggered. I told him to stop and get off of me. We went to bed in silence after that.

I walked in silence for a bit after reminiscing about the clinic ordeal. My mind drifted to different men who shamed me, or took advantage of my body without my permission. I thought about the deformity of my vagina. I thought about how people can be cruel. Clairity, in her wise loving voice, brought my mind back into focus.

Clairity started the next line of questioning with, “do you remember the chain of events that occurred after you became pregnant with his and your first baby?” Boy do I ever remember that.

Albert and I were living together in Scarborough, Ontario. My parents had long since moved to New Brunswick for another job opportunity for my dad. They were living in Saint George, New Brunswick. After the incident with the cliff’s edge, back in 1992, I opted to move in with Albert. Rather than move with my parents to New Brunswick.

Albert and I were making a decent household income at that point. Albert worked for a large printing company. I worked in the graphic design department of the Yellow Pages company. Since we were young and free of children, Albert and I lived a free to do as we pleased, sort of lifestyle. When I became pregnant at nineteen, Albert was not too pleased.

“We aren’t ready for a baby. I’m still figuring my shit out with work. We’ve only been living together for a few months.” My response to him was something along the lines of, “everything will be okay. There are solutions to everything. We can do this.” Albert’s rebuttal was, “if you don’t have an abortion, I’m leaving you.” I wasn’t certain if it was an idle threat, or, if he meant it. Either way, his words of leaving me, rattled me.

I thought long and hard, both at work, and at home. I thought about the potential of aborting a baby. Along with what potential spiritual consequences could come from making this decision. I confided in a close colleague for guidance. She was kind to me and never once made me feel judged.

The choice was mine to make. I thought about the fact that my parents were in another province. I thought about the fact that I couldn’t last long under my mother’s roof, even if I did move there with them. My mother and I would have ended up being at odds with one another. That was for certain. I thought about the fact that I had no friends, nor other family members to turn to. My brother was living with his girlfriend and her parents in a different township. The only resemblance of friends that I had were Albert’s friends. The only family was Albert’s. I felt alone and scared.

I also wanted the baby. I loved that I was pregnant. I love children. I may have been a child as well. With that said, I know I would have been a wonderful mother. Even at that age. My heart was broken when I relinquished my rights to motherhood. I bowed to Albert’s request and booked an appointment to abort the pregnancy.

The day of the abortion was scheduled for the same day as  mine and Albert’s birthday. I turned twenty that day. Albert turned twenty-two. I was traumatized. When we left for the hospital there were pro life protests going on at what seemed like every street corner. We drove from the east side of Scarborough to downtown Toronto. It was the longest hour and a half of my life. All I kept thinking about was the fact that I was taking a life away on my birthday.

How ironic. It’s amazing how much your universe speaks to you in codes. I wasn’t picking up the clues. I was lost in grief before it was actually time to grieve.

When I woke up from the procedure, a young male was pushing me on the gurney. He was wheeling me back to the recovery area. Whilst he was rolling me along, I looked up at him with dozy eyes and said “I took a life on a day I was given life. What does that make me?” The young man didn’t respond. He just wheeled me quietly back to recovery.  I held that pain for an excruciatingly long time.

Clairity brought me back to the present for just a moment to ask, “what did your mother say to you when you told her of your decision to abort?” My mum said “don’t tell your father. He would disown you if he knew you had an abortion. Your father is staunchly against it.

” Keep note of that Clair”, Clairity instructed. “When did you start to feel some sense of relief from guilt after this experience?” Clairity’s question made me think of Grandpa Joe.

The pain didn’t let up until my eldest daughter was two years old. That’s when Grandpa Joe paid me another visit. Grandpa Joe helped me to understand my choice from a spiritual perspective.