Go big or do nothing at all

I pop in to see Bakerman after work to cheer him up and to check on how sick he really is. Het is not going well at all, temperature running high and a vague expression on his face. His body and his entire being is clearing his energy field of all the negativity that has accumulated. What I am about to hear is going to call the beginning of a brand-new era in our lives.

“Oh hi,” I greet him as I bustle into his bakery atelier. “My conf call turned out to be postponed. And I’m a bit late.”

“Better than never,” Bakerman smiles meekly, happy to see me.

“So my mother, positive evolution?” I ask him cutting straight to the chase.

“I am going to have a slice of cake and a big cup of tea now,” Bakerman skuttles around his workplace slowly gathering deliciously smelling items. “Do you want some?”

“Yesss please. Chocolate cake?” I am looking around at all the tempting things he has concocted. “Wim is going to start a blog too now. Fun huh.”

“I don’t know,” Bakerman has his back to me as he is shaking and trying carefully to prepare two big mugs of fresh tea. “My job is to help you look at alternatives instead of a single point of view that may or may not be correct.”

“Mmmm lost me,” I sigh as I take a big bite of the chocolate creamy cake he just placed in front of me. “Great cake though.”

“What was the whole reading for your mom?” Bakerman turns to face me now holding out a hot steamy mug of tea. I accept his offer quickly afraid he might spill half of the hot brew in his clumsy sickness.

“She’s financially well off but can’t see it,” I start recounting what the story of my wild unknown tarot cards. “She reaps what she sows with me and my brother. Too much in control. A big change is coming, sudden. And she’ll be upset. But it’s a blessing in disguise. In two years she will meet a new love interest. I told her to do AirBnB for extra income. Or English conversation. Or cake workshops. How to make a blue cake for instance. Hope renewed. Connect to the force within.”

“Was she not an accountant or something?” Bakerman asks as he slowly stirs his tea with a small dainty spoon.

“No she was an administrative assistant at the army,” I tell him. That translates into less than a secretary. “She liked to pretend she was very important.”

“Oh,” Bakerman shrugs as he takes a first sip of his tea.

“And she liked to copy the military,” I could go on forever on details regarding my mother. “She said she never saved for her pension. Can anybody really be so reckless?”

“Yes sure,” Bakerman nods at me unblinkingly.

“She says she only has one income,” I go over the inconsistencies with my best friend. “Does this mean my brother doesn’t contribute to paying the costs of living at home?”

“Of course not,” Bakerman laughs. “Your mother should have put him in a special nursing home years ago.”

“Haha,” I enjoy a good laugh. “Yes she should. I think he only works part time. Lazy sod.”

“The best way to treat your brother is to get him help in finding a job and keeping it then throw him out,” Bakerman eyes me coolly from his puffy red face.

“My mother will never throw him out,” I shake my head looking down at the tea mug resting in my lap. “I told her she should get him to move on. But always excuses.”

“She knows he can’t survive on his own,” Bakerman mocks.

“Yup,” I sigh.

“Make sure you teach your kids the value in achievement,” Bakerman warns me.

“I do all the time,” I smile back at him. “And they do chores.”

“Discipline is very good for kids,” Bakerman confirms.

“Yes I dont want morons like my brother,” I pull a funny face as I think of that genetic failure.

“Does he know he is the village idiot in Turnpoint Mountains?” Bakerman hears all the gossip in town as people come and go in his bakery. “There is another one very similar in Emelo Woods too. Guy is 40 and never worked a day in his life. Lived at home from birth.”

“I don’t think so,” I go on thinking deeply. My mother would have said something if it were the case. “Some call him ‘bambi’. My mother thinks that’s endearing somehow.”

“You should tell him,” Bakerman urges me. his fever clearly rising inside of him. “The whole village knows about him and laughs at him.”

“The village thinks he’s a little old man,” I tell him about the rumours I have heard. “They think he’s my mom’s boyfriend. Nobody believes me when I tell them he’s my brother. They laugh when I say he’s my younger brother. Incredible.”

“It was suggested once that I should offer free treatment for him,” Bakerman is holding my gaze. I remember him offering to talk to my brother last year, but that was the other brother.

“Yes you should,” I push him a little. I’m starting to wonder how much of the fever is actually doing the talking.

“No,” Bakerman shakes his head resolutely. “Incest cases are not my thing.”

“How is he involved in incest?” I am shocked to my core. Is there a simple way to talk to a man delirious with fever? “You mean with my mother? Now it is weird how they live together. Go on vacation together.”

“Who knows the truth,” Bakerman shrugs. “Such is the rumour.”

“Sleep in same bed on vacation,” I go over the weird evidence accumulating under my unbelieving eyes. “It is the rumour, I know. But it can’t be true.”

“Why not? I had a case like this long ago,” Bakerman remembers sourly. “Father and son were fighting all the time. Fist fighting and father couldn’t figure it out. Son was fucking mother and became possessive. Mother preferred fucking son. Son is now living in a mental institution as he is screwed up from this. Both parents are dead now. He has been a basket case for years. Hated having to submit a report to the authorities.”

“Oh my that sounds bad,” I shake my head. I know I can’t cope with even hearing about such things. I’d rather live in my peaceful little world, without drama and terrible stories only my birth family could come up with. “I couldn’t cope with cases like that.”

“Yes,” Bakerman nods solemnly. “Who is your brothers father?”

“I can’t even read the newspaper without getting upset,” my head is spinning now and I’ve lost track of the plot. Are we talking about my brother in the UK and the abuse he put up with from Graham? Or my brother here in Belgium? “My stepdad? Fwa-fwaaah.”

“Yes I know,” Bakerman nods mysteriously.

“Frank is his real name,” I go on. “He looks the spitting image of him.”

“Is he in touch with your brother?” Bakerman asks inquisitively.

“Yes but not often now,” I tell him only what I have heard. “He’s drinking again. And very involved with his new Philippino wife and her lot. He never bothers with me and my kids. Sometimes my brothers but not often.”

“Sounds good,” Bakerman smiles.

“Does it?” I pull up my eyebrow at him.

“You don’t need the added aggravation,” Bakerman points out.

“I don’t,” I sigh.

“Your brother just needs to meet a bitch like his mother and he will be off,” Bakerman lets me know it will all be okay.

“Hasn’t happened yet,” I point out the obvious flaw in his statement. “Don’t think he ever will.”

“There must be loads of them in Belgium,” Bakerman has told me before that there are a million more fish in the sea.

“Mother won’t allow it,” I snort. “There are. But what, come home, be quiet for mom?”

“I understand my elder sister is also crazy,” Bakerman reveals part of his story. “She has a boyfriend who is 30 years her junior. He is a paid companion. A gigolo I guess. Fat and useless. Worked six months in his life so far. Yet she hangs onto him as though butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. Maybe women go crazy when they hit menopause or 60. Maybe they think it will dry up. Even a dog that likes to lick is an option.”

“But he’s her son!” I am starting to feel defensive now. I hate horrible talk and even though I don’t like the lot of them, I won’t stand for nasty talk. “I don’t understand this. I want my children to live full lives. Adventures of their own. Not extensions of myself. Ugh my mom has cats. This is all very dirty, very scary and not healthy.”

“Ah but your autism is different from hers,” Bakerman continues in the same monotone voice. “She see things as possessions. If she can’t own you then you are the problem.”

“I am the problem,” I repeat for myself. “Oh dear, that’s psychopathic.”

“If you blog this please make up names and cities that protect your family,” Bakerman looks at me alarmed.

“Haha,” I laugh as I can’t for the life of me imagine to ever repeat what I have just heard. “Yes true. Like which names? Tweedledum is pretty good.”

“Sure it’s always the same pattern,” Bakerman nods. “Your mother needs to own everyone she is close to. The concept if love is very distant to her. Sex equals love.”

“And the Old-Woman-in-a-Shoe,” I burst out in hysterics now. This conversation has clearly gotten under my skin.

“Yes something like that,” Bakerman is eyeing me with growing concern.

“Ugh disgusting,” I curl my nose. “Now I know where my weird behaviour comes from.”

“Yes,” Bakerman confirms.

“Or how I thought I had to do,” I go on seeing the light. “And it never felt right. So she is doing it with him. Yuk disgusting.”

“My next point. You can change it,” Bakerman always offers options.

“That will never stop,” I give up before I have even started. “I can? That’s the death card. How?”

“Yes you can change your behaviour only,” Bakerman explains the rules to me.

“Ah but I’m fine,” I say firmly. “How do I save my mother and my brother?”

“Fiona you must not put your filters in when reading tarot,” Bakerman scolds me. “You don’t know what’s in her future. You can’t.”

“What do you mean?” I ask him desperately.

“You can’t save them only they can,” Bakerman looks at me with sorry eyes. “You can help them achieve the desire to change.”

“So my blog will expose them and force them to change?” I ponder as anxiety creeps further up my spine.

“No it will just bring a new law suite,” Bakerman sighs looking into his empty tea mug.

“Public shaming does work,” I speak up. “Will it? Even if I talk about Tweedledum?”

“You need proof,” Bakerman puts his cup down and moves over in a conspiratorial fashion. “Have a few mini bugs placed in their house and record them for a month. Then you will have evidence.”

“Okay sounds fun,” I wink at him. “I’ll get their place bugged next time I’m in there. Or get the kids to do it. Or I know people who know people.”

“I am going shopping now,” Bakerman gets up slowly. “You could just ask her to clarify the rumour which she will deny but might think about.”

“Ok will do,” I say reluctantly as I can’t see myself ever having this conversation ever again.

“Ok have fun,” Bakerman waves after me as I make my way out of his atelier, back into the fresh spring air outside. I will always marvel at Bakerman’s ability to match his coaching strategies to each client for maximum success. His fever seems to have left together with the negativity he just spun out. I could almost visually see him releasing it all as he exhaled. I inhale the fresh spring air and take in the fresh energy of the sun, allowing it to light the way to a brand-new era.

* Disclaimer : Any resemblance between the fictional characters in this story and any persons, living or dead, is a miracle by chance more than by choice.

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Make it work #love #health #business

Right now you will find me sitting rather immobile at my kitchen table. My hands are cupping a mug of luke warm tea. I am staring off blankly at nothing in particular and hadn’t noticed my mysterious repetitive visitor approaching.

“Good day Bakerman,” I smile weakly at the Wizard as he appears at my kitchen table. “How are you? How was your weekend? I spent lots of relaxing quality time with kids. Popped into Mechelen to see Wim on Sunday.”

The Wizard has his eyes set on me intently. He will not be fooled by my masquerade. So I immediately drop all pretences and tell him what’s up: “Wim has seen his specialist this morning. They have the results of the biopsy on his colon and the lymph nodes they removed. He has to have 6 more months of chemotherapy. 60% survival rate. Will Reiki help and how to stay positive? Wim sounds like he’s near to giving up. What about marihuana? Would that help?”

“No,” the Wizard vehemently disapproves of smoking pot. “Marry him quick.”

“Why quick?” I am startled by this turn in the conversation. It does me good though as this question shakes me out of my stupor.

“Reiki will help if he believes in it,” the Wizard continues softly. I will try it anyway. Hell, I will dance around the village naked with a chicken on my head if it could help Wim get better.

“I’d better start making some decent money because he will start running out soon,” I say with a deep sense of determination. It is now all down to me and I am not one to disappoint.

“Well if he pops his clogs you can get half the estate if Wim gives up and doesn’t fight,” the Wizard says with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. Only this cat could say such inappropriate things at a time like this. It’s his good humour and his kindness which let him get away with being so obnoxious.

“Uhm… I dont want to marry him for money reasons,” I am truly outraged at the Wizard. “Half the estate is mine. And if we marry we will do it with a split contract.”

“60% is a good survival rate,” the Wizard winks at me. “Got to go. Chat tonight.”

“I want to marry him for love…” I trail off at the Wizard makes a swift exit blowing little hearts at me with his pink fluffy cloud on his way out.

Feeling better with a positive prospect, I am serene when putting my littles to bed. After nine I curl up in my sofa under a blanket with a nice cup of tea and a piece of dark chocolate. I have indulged in some management books and find myself unable to put the book down, it is so good and captivating. The Wizard lands his pink cloud at my feet and curls up warm and comfortably at my feet.

“Ha, I am reading ‘the 4h work week’ by Tim Ferriss,” I tell the Wizard as I explicitly show him the cover of the book which has me so engrossed. “It arrived today. If I did do cold calling, I would be most effective doing it just before or just after office hours because it gets rid of the gate-keeping secretaries…”

I am proud to tell him what I have learned. This fits into one of our previous conversations when the Wizard wanted to get me over my fear for cold calling. I didn’t quite make it, but decided I could do cold emailing instead.

I continue informing him on what I’m reading about: “Interesting yet troublesome with 3 noisy kids in the background. The lesson I learn here, and with your coins, is I have got to think out of the box and do things differently than how they have always been done. Which leaves me with 2 questions: what on earth shall I do differently? And how? Circles forever circles.”

“Keep reading,” the Wizard cat blinks at me as he settles for the night.

Looking for answers in all the wrong places. Yet other entrepreneurs’ stories are strangely inspiring. It is time to believe in me again. I create my own rules. This is my time, my expertise. Go with me and make it work!

 

* Disclaimer : Any resemblance between the fictional characters in this story and any persons, living or dead, is a miracle by chance more than by choice.

 

 

 

Love changed my life story #love #reiki

Monday morning, the Wizard catches up with me as I am skipping my way from the parking lot under Brussels North station to the office. I take nice long strides, and add a distinguished bounce to my step. Head held high, chin uplifted, I smile at the grey winter sky.

“Howdi good guy,” I smile at him. “I paid off the Old-Woman-who-lives-in-a-Shoe. Yipee! Wim sent me the money. I feel so relieved, so happy, so light. Now I need to work on new clients. My aim is to generate 1.500 extra income this month. Not sure how. Need to chase those video trainings too. Have you launched your daily bread business?”

The Wizard hovers next to me as I wait at the traffic light to cross the busy road.

“Nearly there. Just negotiating kitchen space,” the Wizard answers eyeing me keenly. “Good for you and Wim.”

“It’s wonderful Wim helped,” I am not even going to try to hide my triumph. Life feels so much better when you approach it as a team. “I’m much more happy being in debt with him than with the Old-Woman-who-lives-in-a-Shoe.”

The light turns green for the pedestrians and I stroll merrily over the zebra crossing. I look back at the Wizard: “Send some pics when your kitchen is done.”

I refuse to reach old age still carrying the negative stories of a lifetime. Stories so powerful and convincing they are internalized as reality, becoming burdens and barriers to my happiness and wellbeing.

Through the energy of love and by studying Reiki I have learned that my personal stories are just myths, and they do not define me. When I open my heart to my children, my partner… The millenary science of Reiki teaches me how to break free of a past that no longer serves me, and empowers me to become the storyteller of my own book of strength, healing and beauty.
With the help of Reiki, I am training to become a successful energy medicine practitioner and health coach, whilst enjoying a joyful life and a rewarding career.
I want to make a difference in the world around me. I am ready to bring health, meaning, and purpose into my life and those of others. Just ask me if you are interested in an energetic introduction.

 

* Disclaimer : Any resemblance between the fictional characters in this story and any persons, living or dead, is a miracle by chance more than by choice.

Define your personal blueprint #reiki #energy

The flu left me just as suddenly as it had hit me the previous week. I feel refreshed, optimistic, excited and ready to live a full life. The Wizard cat comes floating into my kitchen on a bright pink cloud, so I decide to give him another update on my doings.

“Good morning again,” I smile at the Wizard. “Love the ‘Center for Inspiration’ idea. Last week I did 2 readings and 1 meditation. That’s 130 Euros straight in the pocket. Would like to add crystal healing to the list. So I’ve started a course on Reiki. What do you think about shamanism? Astral travel? Do you think psychics really exist? Wishing you a wonderful day.”

“Hi. You ask hard questions,” the Wizard swirls round on his fluffy cloud to face me head on. “Shamanism is good when true. Much the same as medicine women in South America. Met many and respect their skills. Psychics exist but are not common so there are many bullshit artists around. Astral travel is something you should stay away from at the moment. Again it is not an easy process to control and needs a strong mind and some other practices first. Knowledge is important here. Reiki is good. I am a master but don’t practice.  Crystal healing is bullshit in my opinion and has no statistics to support it except placebo cures. We live and stand on crystals all day. Yet we are still sick both physically and mentally. Read Zen books. A lot of people like this because it gives them a false sense of power over others. Most people are born idiots and you can fool them into believing you have a direct line to God. If so they will depend on you for their wellbeing and pay you too. Just look at the Pope, he is a master at this.”

“So it’s not the right path to take,” I muse internally revising my plan. “You are really good and you are a true healer. Why don’t you use your gift? I was wondering whether good things happen because we talk about them… Would that be like Reiki in words. Or am I dangerously becoming co-dependent?” I pause for a moment to mark the drama in my assessment. “But all good. Maybe the magic lies in not really knowing where the energy comes from and where it will go next.” I am not too sure about all this magic mumbo jumbo, so I am quick to change the subject again. “Another thing, I find tarot readings really hard when the client is scattered or in a bad place. It makes the reading scattered and unclear and it just drains my energy. Any ideas how to deal with such situations?” I ask the Wizard. Without waiting for his reply, I go on with all I have been wanting to tell him in an entire week: “Another funny thought, I used to adore Marc the guru shaman. And I sometimes still find myself wanting the Knave of Hearts to come back. Is that my unrequited love addiction playing up? Or just nostalgia?”

“So many thoughts,” the Wizard’s eyes twinkle with excitement. I am giving him food for thought. This is the kind of stuff he does like talking about. “Ok… Number one. The path you are on is good but it is not the answer to problems and won’t give you power over anything or anyone. Astral travel is not for you yet. Everything else is ok so long as you only exchange value with your client and not use it to hold a power over someone. I use my gift whenever I can and in different ways. For some reason people think they need to compete instead of enjoying healing with me. Some believe framing your thoughts brings results, like with NLP. I believe you must immerse yourself instead and become the role you want to play. So if you are interested in this dress the part and talk the talk, but also walk the walk. Reiki chanels energy from the universe through you so your client can relax. In so doing so they heal. The more they can relax the better for you and the client. Like Reiki you need to do a prayer of protection and understand it is not about you, nor do you need to prove your readings. Tarot is about the person you are reading for. Never make the claim something will definitely happen. The reading is a prediction of past, present and future based on how your client feels now. Tomorrow that could change. In doing this your prayer must include the removal of negative energy being passed to you. When they are confused you draw three cards separately and read those first to get direction. If still confused return the client’s money and offer a cup of tea and fifteen minute chat. Tell them to come back in a day or two. The reading will be clearer. Your desire for the Knave of Hearts to come back I would assume is your desire for a stable family, a happy home and a partner to be spoilt by and to spoil. Something you have never had. While you hang onto your past this can’t enter your life. You have too many back doors open. To many escape hatches. One is called Wim.”

“Wow long answer, a lot for me to take in,” I finally say as I had listened in awe at everything he had to tell me. “Well I don’t want power, nor power over anyone. I like doing readings. It makes me feel very happy. Bonus is I get paid for doing it. Plus I can do it from home. Very happy. Regarding me holding onto the past, I don’t really see it, though you obviously do. Or is the Knave of Hearts the past I hold onto? Is there a chance he will come back? After all I have his son.”

“Yes do more,” the Wizard encourages me. “Focus on Reiki and energy healing too. You will have a balanced life if you appeal to your clients.” The Wizard pauses for a moment to make sure he has my full attention. “There is no chance he will come back. He is busy with his life. Men don’t have emotional fantasies like women do. Sorry but we are penis driven.”

“Oh okay,” I sigh. “That’s clear then.”

“Penis and power to dominate are some of our basic drivers,” the Wizard explains the strange species men are to us women. “Like food, feeling needed and wanted, feeling important and of value. Stuff like that.”

“What is the problem with Wim that I don’t see?” I demand to know quite defensively. I don’t like it when the Wizard has a dig at Wim.

“Lack of comitment,” the Wizard repeats the same old answer.

“Oh okay,” I sigh again. Same question, same answer, what had I expected?

“Not much effort to bond two families I don’t think,” the Wizard says too nonchalantly for the situation. “Of course this is just a guess. Maybe it’s lack of commitment by you too.”

“It could be,” I admit. “I have no clue what it should look like. Bonding. Commitment. Being spoiled. Do you have an example? Or a couple as an example of how it feels and looks like?”

“Look at couples that are together for more than ten years and still hold hands,” the Wizard nods at me as his cloud has started bopping up and down merrily around my kitchen. “You see them window shopping. This cloud does its own thing.”

“Can’t think of any…” I trail off. “Wim and I hold hands.”

“I will think of examples for you that you might know of,” the Wizard promises. “I guess so. You make a great alternate week couple.”

“My yoga teacher,” I list one example of what looks like a happy couple. “Perfect body, perfect kids, perfect life. Never seen my parents holding hands though. Little Miss Muffet maybe…”

“The problem is most couples forget ‘thou shall not covet’,” the Wizard won’t let me off easily.

“Little Miss Muffet never liked Wim,” I am still desperately trying to think of happy couples who hold hands.

“Little Miss Muffet must have been into you,” the Wizard believes he has unearthed another truth.

“It’s not that hard. Really,” I stop to think about resisting temptation now. “It’s a slight moment of ego when someone shows interest but not really worth it.”

“No its not,” the Wizard confirms happy to note my progress on this level.

“I like being with Wim and I like being alone,” I repeat what I have said so many times before. “Don’t think I’ll close that back door yet. My life is pretty good when I am not panicking. With a bit of work and adjustments it might even get better.”

“Ok. Keep going,” the Wizard encourages this line of thought. “Build your practice. Maybe Wim will heal your families next year.”

“Maybe,” I smile warmly. “Or maybe it is something I should focus on and direct my energy to.”

“Yes you need to get involved too,” the Wizard insists.

“This year be courageous and focus on being a mom and a good friend,” I repeat what my cards had told me in a recent auto-reading.

“Thats a good place to be,” the Wizard smiles at me. I flash him a huge grin, happy to be feeling on top of my game again. “Be grateful too and give charity will help a lot too. Now go make a blog about this please. Share the love….”

“This would help many people,” I reflect on all we have shared in the past hour or so.

“Yes,” the Wizard coaxes me.

“My blog is the only missing piece in the magic puzzle right now,” I suddenly notice a bit taken aback.

“I am going back to my task now,” the Wizard’s cloud starts humming and floating towards the door. “You are a lovely distraction.”

“We’ll see,” I decide to let it all go for the moment. I remember to surrender. “In the meantime I really love it.”

“Figure it out,” the Wizard warns me that surrender is not the same as just sitting back waiting for a very long time.

“Yes go bake your daily bread,” I blow a kiss after him as he leaves.

* Disclaimer : Any resemblance between the fictional characters in this story and any persons, living or dead, is a miracle by chance more than by choice.

Connecting to life #surrender

Determined to continue on my path of self improvement, I sometimes whisper a soft word to the Wizard cat, who like all angry cats is still blatantly ignoring me. My efforts to talk to him have been undermined by my health issues. Dealing with flu for an entire week completely wipes out my energy levels. Talking in such situations can be strenuous.

“Good morning Doc Oz and buenos dias to you,” I smile at the Wizard fondly. “How are you? I’ve been down all week with flu. Got one new client in Google Analytics and Adwords coaching, following a hot lead with a web agency, totally failing with the Star’s new client. I know nothing about email marketing and she doesn’t want to help not even on invoice. Haven’t heard from the Shepherd, London lady, the au-pair agency or you. Maybe everyone has the flu. People are also liking our conversations a lot on my blog. That’s a bit scary.”

I have decided to surrender to the whims of the Wizard. Why surrender? Surrendering best defines what I feel is necessary for a great experience during life. A complete surrender, a way of letting go, abandoning myself to a master, my guide through life.

Stop resisting an enemy or opponent. Instead submit to their authority. In this case, a thought system and the words of a mind artist who travels around the globe to bake our daily bread.

Choose your best synonym : capitulate, give in, give myself up, yield, concede, submit, climb down, give way, defer, acquiesce, back down, cave in, relent, succumb, quit, crumble, but most of all, let myself go, live or …

The Wizard is the driving force behind my new business plan the “Center for Inspiration” and my famous tarot evenings. The Wizard of Oz is a very versatile man and a free spirit.

Surrender. Live your life with love and passion.

* Disclaimer : Any resemblance between the fictional characters in this story and any persons, living or dead, is a miracle by chance more than by choice.

Talk less, meditate more

I have recently been wondering whether chronically talking to my cat might be a sign of lack of self worth. Even if mine is in fact the Wizard of Oz appearing at odd moments during the day in guise of the Cheshire Cat.

“Buenas noches,” I smile at the Wizard. I can see he is not really in a talkative mood as he drifts around moodily. Maybe he has picked up on my doubts of having conversations with a disappearing cat and a wizard who isn’t really there.

Many people have the tendency to talk to themselves all the time, chronically, for everything. On the one hand, talking to yourself is like a social rehearsal that keeps interactions between people polite. In that way it can be very helpful to go over a situation or a conversation that you plan to have sometime in the future. On the other hand, if we find ourselves talking to ourselves for everything and all the time, it might be time to look at why we feel compelled to hear our own voice so often. Ultimately, talking to yourself or saying your thoughts out loud makes you responsible for something that has gone wrong in a given situation. It helps you put it out there in front of you and deal with it. Whether it’s negotiating a better compensation deal, moving through the aisles of the supermarket, or reaching for what you want, there are times when you want to make sure you are going to say the right thing or come to the best win-win solution. But there are other times when silence is gold.

“My client yesterday was a doctor who spoke like a little girl,” I go on telling the Wizard about my recent tarot readings. “And my client last week was a woman working at the KUL university. These are the kind of clients I want to attract. So far it’s one or two clients per week. Again a gap filler. But you think it can be comfortable? We’ll see. In any case I like doing this.”

Sometimes talking to yourself is like pretending that the other person in the equation is right there in front of you. Of course, it’s true that talking to somebody who isn’t there can simply be an innocuous way of defusing tension, especially if you are missing that person very much. However, if you find that you talk to this person all the time, you might want to look a little deeper and see where in your psyche that might be coming from. If it’s a pattern, breaking it may simply take some awareness and practice.

“Also wondering how on earth you can get a foot in Blockchain,” I muse over my recent research into cryptocurrencies. “It all seems so geeky nerdy and only accessible to a few high tech elite.”

The first step is observing yourself each time you turn to talk to yourself or your imaginary friend, without being hard on yourself about it. Throughout your day simply notice when you start talking into thin air. At first, you might be surprised to see that you do it even more than you first realized. After a day or two of simply observing, try to tune into what it is you are feeling right before you start talking. You might be feeling threatened, embarrassed, intensely anxious, or a variety of other feelings. Over time, try to stop yourself before the words come out and just be with the feeling that’s there. You may recognize it as one from your childhood, one that’s been with you for a long time. The more you are able to see it, the freer you will be not to blurt your unfiltered thoughts out into the world.

* Disclaimer : Any resemblance between the fictional characters in this story and any persons, living or dead, is a miracle by chance more than by choice.

The magical occasion when mom relaxes

Celebrate the magic

As a single mom of 3, I find my power by getting out in nature. Getting myself that nice dose of oxygen is so vital to feeling on top of my game. Add to that some undisrupted “earthing” and I’m truly a happy mommy. I need some quality me-time to recharge my batteries and nature offers me respite from the hustle and bustle of daily life.

Children are precious and being a mom should be celebrated.

Our children are the next generation. The continuation of the species. They are therefore an important aspect valued by our society. So valuable we invest much of our time, money and efforts in raising good and healthy kids. Yet life is not only about the children. There is more to the ultimate meaning of life and your purpose in this existence.

Sacred men and women throughout history have understood the power of nature, using the wilderness (whether forest, beach, or desert) to cultivate an inner spirituality that in turn makes a meaningful impact on the lives of the people around you. It’s in the wilderness, stripped from distractions, that you face yourself and your circumstances in one of the rawest and most vulnerable ways you’ll ever experience. And it’s well worth it.

Moments to relax, harmonize and balance.

Pause for a minute (actually stop reading this article) and think about the last time you incorporated a practice solely for the sake of your spiritual life. You probably can’t remember, now can you ?

Funny isn’t it, how we women tend to undervalue our quality me-time, our reconnection with our inner core. Nurturing your spirituality is in stark contrast to the things our society seems to value. Nevertheless, I recommend you tend to your soul daily, even be it just for a few minutes here and there of mindful awareness of the self. Like power-napping, you can take out a few minutes during your busy day to catch up with yourself. You don’t have to wait for a magical occasion to take care of yourself. Instead I believe in everyday magic. To make many micro moments into a meaningful refills of energy.

Even for those who are career-driven or business-minded, taking a few minutes out behind your desk to power-meditate, is believed to infuse the surrounding area with positive energy.

It’s not always about the kids

Ladies (and gents), it is time you blocked out time in your schedule for yourself. This time won’t create itself; you will need to make it a priority. Unlike physical health, which often takes precedence with exercise and healthy eating, spiritual well-being is a little more elusive and can be put on the back-burner.

Soothing seasonal occupations :

  • Cooking a delicious meal using ayurvedic spices for a balanced, flavourful diet.
  • Relax, cool and harmonize body, mind and spirit with organic herbal teas.
  • Get out pottering around your garden. Plant seeds for the future.

By being a relaxed mom, you are helping preserve healthy habits for generations to come.

Breathe a sigh of relief and get ahead of your day.

Put your spiritual health at the top of your list and spend some time in nature this spring or summer. Retreats are a great way to fill your cup and come back to yourself, especially those where you get to spend time outside in nature.

Where will you go on your next adventure?

This August, I am heading to YogaLand for a 3 Day Signature Meditation and Yoga Retreat. If you’re looking to get away from it all — to slow down, reflect, re-energize, and create a foundation for cultivating purpose in your life — join me and my kiddos in Torhout (Belgium).

The benefits of engaging in this type of retreat are vast. From clarity to purpose, you will walk away feeling refreshed and with a renewed sense of who you are.

— Tremeloo, Belgium (May 2017)