how to handle hokey

The other morning I half awoke to a distinct feeling of pressure on my chest. Specifically, a clear understanding that a forearm of some kind was pressing on it. Half asleep, I acknowledged B had long left for his early client sessions, and something within me knew, unshakingly, that it was a Spirit. I struggled to fully awaken in that way we often linger in-between, and when I finally roused the energy to move, pressure building, I shouted...out loud...in my most annoyed voice, "Be Gone!" 

Instantly the forearm feeling lifted, and I cracked up.

One thing I will say about myself, I sure do know how to giggle at these moments. Somehow, they can be entirely true for me, and also delightfully entertaining in a loving, self deprecating way.

Poor B, however, has had to learn to adapt to this.

Most of my early (and still some of my recent) descriptions of these kinds of Spirit-on-my-chest encounters/beliefs were met with:

Oh cutie, you had no idea what you signed up for, did you?

Just the other day I woke us both up from a dream with my gasp (props to his immediate hand holding reaction soothing my disturbed soul...swoon)....

I'm going to go ahead and assume many family and friend dynamics include that person. You know, the hokey, quirky, Deepak & Louise loving pals. The friend who attends spiritual retreats, keeps crystals in the home and jumps at the chance to have a tarot reading. The one who sighs about bad karma, or quotes their therapists, coaches, gurus, & guides often.

And, I think it is pretty safe to also assume that for my own particular circle of relationships, I am very much *that* friend. 

I am the woman destined to become eccentric old Aunt Patsy, with her 20 cats and layers of colorful scarves, fringed afghans, and baubled jewelry. Potentially drinking her first martini by noon each day, because in this vision I'm 95 and really should be able to do whatever the hell I want. I'll cackle laugh often, since I already am a bit raspy in that department (I remember a high school friend once telling me he was convinced I secretly smoked a pack of cigs a day, my laugh is so raspy). I'll play old records, all the time. I'll dance freely, and unapologetically. I'll love mama earth fiercely and dig my sparkle pedicured toes in the sand as often as possible. I'll go to weekly reiki sessions and tell dirty jokes and continue to travel with other retirees in fabulous elderly caravans. Also in my dream lives my 92 year old sister, whom I share a home with because our man slices have since passed on (they don't like this part of my dream, but the sooner they accept this inevitable detail, the easier it will be -- they shall be outlived by Diggy sisters). Together we both scare and delight the neighborhood children with our mystical tales and hilarious antics such as throwing pancakes from the porch at the slowest bike riders. Think: the Aunts of Practical Magic meets The Golden Girls.

Dream big, I know.

So, with my future pretty well outlined, and B already at the level of amused acceptance, I decided to take to the blog to help those of you dealing with your own token Aunt Patsy.

I present to you, the short and sweet:

How To Handle Hokey 101

First, know that the harder you fight against it, the more it will crop up for you. Or, as a coach once said: That which you cannot be with, will run you.

Second, accept that maybe you don't know everything and allow your hokey friend to present versions of reality, humanity, and the business of energy in their quirky ways. Be light hearted and open; remember to believe in magic a little. It does the body good.

Third, admit that you kinda like it. Admit that there is something spiritual about your time in the woods, or in front of the sea. Admit that it feels good to be the weirdest, most curious version of yourself with them. Permission to fly your freak flag: granted.

And finally, forgive yourself for the moment in which you first say out loud "that made my spirit feel big" or "his energy is off" or "I can't decide shit before I meditate". Your membership to the tribe has no expiration date, and we are ready to celebrate your induction, to whatever degree feels right, at a moments notice.


Not all who wander are lost, and whatnot...


love and light,

Aunt Patsy