Your Own Worst Enemy

I sat at the blue cafeteria table, staring into space. 

I heard the soft footsteps come up behind me, but I didn't feel the need to turn around.  It just didn't matter.

"I know you're upset. Can I explain?"

I choked back the tears.  I didn't want to give the very person who rejected me the satisfaction of showing me how upset I really was.  But my silence didn't seem to scare him off any and he sat across from me anyhow.

"It isn't that you aren't any good, Kristy.  That isn't why I didn't choose you for the group."

"Then why, Mr. V?  Why? You said yourself how well I did on my audition.  You said yourself how determined I was.  You said..."

"I know I did," he interrupted with a sigh.  Bowing his head for a moment, he grabbed my chin and made me look straight in his blue eyes.  "One day you will understand, but right now all you need to know is that this isn't yours.  It isn't because of your talent, or lack of talent, it is because you have to walk your own path.  And you aren't doing that by mulling in self pity."  My band and concert choir teacher dropped his hand, bit his lip and stood up to leave.

"If I am not walking my path, Mr. V, what path am I supposed to take?" I asked, tears flooding my eyes.  

"I am not sure, Kristy.  That is for you to discover."

Every time I watch the hit television show Glee, it brings back my memories of rejection, but most of all the conversation that I shared above.  I wanted to be a part of a small and elite choir.  I had done so well on my audition and was certain that the spot was mine, only to read the names on the list and see that my name wasn't included.  Instead of my name there was a name of another, someone who didn't belong in the group.  She couldn't sing.  And I don't say that to be cruel either..she couldn't sing!  I was devastated.   The instructor of the performing arts program was every-body's favorite and not just because he guaranteed an easy grade, but because he truly cared and went above and beyond.  It was rare that he had a temper, but when he did, you knew he meant it.  And the day he sat across from me, his temper flared just briefly, but not out of anger, but out of frustration. 

I never did get to the bottom of why I wasn't the chosen one, except perhaps that one decision could have changed the entire course of my life. 

How many times do we get caught up in the competitiveness of the situation?  Interview for a job that we really don't care to have, but when the job doesn't go to us we get angry?  Query a publisher that we know isn't right for the project and yet when the rejection comes, throw out some curse words?  Date someone who we don't really have a connection with, and yet when they call it quits eat ice cream for a week for being rejected? 

I used to look around at the other Psychic/Mediums/Paranormal Investigators/Authors and wonder why they got chosen for a television show and I didn't.  Or why they got picked up on a book deal and I was told 'no'.  I used to, until I realized that I wasn't walking my path.  They weren't the enemy, I was. 

Do you realize how much more you will get done by creating your own existence!!  By looking around you, you are wasting time in creating your path.  You don't have to be like everybody else.  In fact, you don't want to be like everybody else because that gets boring.  So stop making excuses.  Stop sabotaging yourself.  Stop comparing yourself to others.  And start.  Start what?  I will take a quote from my very wise teacher.  "I am not sure.  That is for you to discover."

Believe,

Kristy 

Merry Christmas

I have always thought of Christmas as a good time; a kind, forgiving, generous, pleasant time; a time when men and women seem to open their hearts freely, and so I say, God bless Christmas!

~Charles Dickens

 

Merry Christmas from our home to yours! The presents have all been opened and the house is empty except for Chuck and I (and my dad) as the kids have gone off to their dad’s home.

 

I used to hate having a split family. At 8 a.m. every Christmas morning my ex husband would pick the kids up in order to have Christmas with his family. And at 8:01 a.m., I would be in a mess of tears. Now Connor is almost 16 and Micaela is 18, and although the sadness of not having them on Christmas Day still surrounds me, ever briefly, I am grateful for each moment that I have with them, and try to not focus on each moment that I don’t.

 

When I was single, I would make sure to have a huge stack of books, silly movies and magazines and spend the day on the couch, watching movies and reading. I would also have a box of Kleenex next to me and cry throughout the day and night, mourning all that I didn’t have. I would cry at all the pain that was caused me and the kids, and at the fairy tale of a life that I thought I was gifted, but felt as if it was ripped from me, without my permission and none of it in my control. I thought I was handling it properly. I thought wrong.

 

Last night, as we entertained family and friends, I thought back to those days that I thought were so completely miserable and saw the good within them. How could I treasure all that I have now without going through all of the pain?

 

So on this Christmas morning, I offer you a lesson that I learned from my own past. No matter your situation, you might not see the gifts around you, but take in the experience with open eyes (and some Kleenex next to you is okay too). It may seem like the worst Christmas or the saddest Christmas, but know that there are insights to be gained within them. And for those who are having the most perfect Christmas – send those higher thoughts and prayers to those who might be sad, because even your littlest boost of energy may help someone get through this holiday.

 

From our home to yours – the MERRIEST of Holidays!

 

"Christmas gift suggestions: To your enemy, forgiveness. To an opponent, tolerance. To a friend, your heart. To a customer, service. To all, charity. To every child, a good example. To yourself, respect."
- Oren Arnold

 

Love, Laughter and Miracles,

Kristy Robinett

I Predict...

This time each year I receive calls and emails from television and radio stations asking for my New Year predictions. In previous years, I have reluctantly done them. I say reluctantly because I feel as if the predictions they are looking for are drama filled like - “I see several storms in this part of the country/state and will kill this many people.”

• Eight months ago, on a syndicated radio station, I was asked who would win the Presidential Race - I replied Obama would win. I was hung up on.
• Seven years ago on a radio station I predicted that in 2012-2013 that Unions would begin to dissolve and a new power would rise. I was laughed at.
• Last December I predicted an East Coast hurricane. I was told that the East Coast never gets stormed and I must be off my rocker.

Since the Connecticut shootings on Friday, I have received over twenty phone calls to do prediction shows or to offer my psychic predictions on the tragedy. I have said thanks, but no thanks, and explained that as we emerge into 2013, I want to focus on the positive road and not the tragic. On Facebook I witnessed a person trying to gather people to travel to the school in Connecticut in order to do a paranormal investigation, and I reminded him of what Emerson wrote, “The meaning of good and bad, of better and worse, is simply helping or hurting.”  I was appalled (and still am). There is a place, and a time to do paranormal investigations, and then there is common sense and compassion when that time comes. Nobody likes or wants an ‘ambulance chaser’. I sort of feel the same way about making worldly predictions. Mass predictions don’t help prepare, they only feed into the fear hysteria.  Emerson also said, “Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year”.  I don’t need the ‘I told you so’ when a prediction comes to fruition, instead I would rather write the story of how I want to see things go, and make every attempt to open those doors. I would rather not put the fears out there. I want to visualize that the world is a good place, not rip it to shreds.

 

One of the father’s who lost his six year old little girl in Friday’s tragedy asked that we "not turn <this event> into something that defines us, but something that inspires us to be better, to be more compassionate and more humble people." And if someone who is in the midst of the devastation can ask for peace, I think we can too. We don’t have to turn this into a Civil War where society fights if guns kill or killers kill, or blame a political party. On Friday, I actually had to turn the television off and spend time with the family, hugging them, and doing what Mr. Parker said – try to become inspired instead of getting angry, because much like with 9-11, it was easy to get overwhelmed into the sadness and the despair of not being able to do anything to help take the ache away. We cannot surrender to hate and fear, however. We have to persevere. We have to grow. We have to shine.

 

As December 21^st approaches, according to those who subscribe to the ascension belief, they would say that this is the end of the world--not the human race--but the end as we know it. We are being tested. Are we passing or failing? With the light, there is dark, but the light must shine brighter or else we all become consumed within the abyss. And so as December 21st nears, more of these dark souls will come forward and try to take as many light souls with them. Don’t let anybody or any situation take your sparkle or shine away.

 

In the night of death, hope sees a star, and listening love can hear the rustle of a wing. 

 ~Robert Ingersoll

 

So instead of offering predictions, as we prepare for the New Year, I ask instead that you shine bright, my friends, shine bright.

 

Love,

Kristy Robinett

www.kristyrobinett.com

Breaching The Gap of Life

 

As always my guides came through for me about a week or so ago with an amazingly beautiful dream.  I hate to admit it but due to some personal struggles I've fallen away from that which brings me joy.  Those little things in my life that often supplement my happiness have fallen into a void which is typical for me when I am faced with a large life situation.  I can only handle, deal with, the task at hand so I compartmentalize the rest, filing it away for a later date.  This includes my active spirit contact meaning that when I attempt to contact Spirit I put up blocks that are not conducive for letting the messages through!  But they never ever let me down {and they won't you either, I can attest to this fact!}  At those times when I cannot achieve contact through my pendulum work or meditation I turn to them by asking for a dream.  

Before I explain the dream let me share that I'm going through a personal struggle, a situation that is reaching culmination.  It's been a process that has challenged me to become a stronger woman and in the end I am so very thankful for what God has given me by way of Divine Process- everything happens for a reason.  I was told months and months ago that the struggles I was facing were all for a reason that would come together in the end with as little strife and heartache {on all ends} as possible- and Spirit did not lie.  But it's also sapped me of my energy and I'm at a point where I have to get back into the game; I've been sitting on the sidelines for far too long plotting my strategy.  One can only plan for so long before jumping in with both feet first.  This is where I am right now... except I'm dipping my toe in the water to test the temperature while I know Spirit is behind me ready to give me a rather large shove into the invigorating depths!  My spiritual eyes are veiled with a self-inflicted fog that is so very ready to feel the wind of activation blow away my old beliefs, thought processes and anything which makes me feel unnaturally vulnerable or scared- all that which holds me back from tapping into Spirit with a clear and open connection.  I know my ability is strong and I'm learning, being taught, how to let it shine.

So my dream... the above picture is a very good rendition of what I saw in the message I was given {I added the bright coloring and sunglow to a very pretty picture I found online at devinatart.com.}  It was a simple dream but so utterly breathtakingly beautiful, and as is their way with me it included an animal.  They use animals as symbols for me, and I love it!  I was in a boat {I'll assume because it was as if I was looking through my eyes and I wasn't aware of why or how I was in the water- I just was} on the ocean, way out in the middle of the water as sunset.  The golden apricot glow of the sweet light of sunset was strong and glorious and I could feel its heat on my face, warming me to the bone.  I was gazing out over the water when suddenly a huge whale breached, jumping vertically straight up into the air before me... it was magnificent and something I've always wanted to experience but haven't yet- except in my dreams as a gift from my guides.  The whale was so close that I could feel the spray from the waves it created on my face, and it played out before me in a melted butter-smooth slow motion.  One huge aspect of the dream was color- the colors were exceptionally bright and stunning; as the whale leaped from the water the light of the setting sun reflected off the waves it was bathed in creating a magical effect, like the northern lights were dancing in the waves.  Another large part was the whale song!  Oh it was soooo moving!  I sat there stunned and thankful for being shown such a majestic gift.  It was a short dream but moving.  I woke up feeling revived, invigorated, excited and very thankful because I had asked for a message and received one.  Light, color, sound, "breaching," water {as most of my dreams are of the water,} and a truly ginormous either humpback or blue whale {of the baleen category} were the main concepts I knew to concentrate on as I worked to figure out the message- and boy do they know how I love working out the meaning behind their symbolism, makes me feel like a spiritual Sherlock Holmes figuring out an unfolding mystery.

As you might suppose I have been avoiding my writing {including the blog, so sorry!} my photography and my bead and jewelry making.  I have taken photos of my son to file for later editing but damn my inspiration went bye bye and I dislike that empty lethargic feeling.  Creating is my magic and manifestation and Spirit knows this; I am most healthy when I am being a creator... of art and of life, my life.  The symbolism behind Whale is:  Creation, Power of song, Awakening inner depths and its cycle of power is year round.  Now if anyone recalls a past dream I wrote about here it concerned frogs and their "song."  Music, sound and singing are very important to me.  Always have been but has become increasingly more important for me here lately.

Whale is associated with the ocean as being a symbol of ancient creation.  Their song shows us how to create through song and sound, that sound is a creative force in life which is very true for me.  Music inspires me pretty much more than anything else.  Whenever I work I listen to music, and I have created some of my best pieces while listening to specific music that has allowed my creativity to flow freely- I can't really explain it but music for me is linked with the power of creation; the power of sound can be used to accelerate the manifestation of goals.  Whales are also symbols of concealment, going "inner," only to be reborn later, like Jonah and the whale.  He lived inside the belly of a whale and was later "reborn."  This is process very much near to my heart as my entire life is changing for me.  I feel as if I am being reborn, at nearly forty years old.  Whale shows us that it is okay to go inner, deep inside of ourselves.  The creativity that awakens with a rebirthing process can resurrect our lives if we let it.

And then there is the "breaching," busting through, coming forth- leaping out from under in a majestic display. I have a tendency to retreat when I am scared of the unknown and this is not always a good thing.  The whale in my dream was showing me it is time to explode from my hiding: hiding my skills and my abilities.  I haven't been very social either- and it is time for me to breach, not be afraid of the power of my own creativity even when it means creating new friendships {I have a tendency for shyness at times.}  Creation is not only meant to make "things."  It is a power that can transform life, create a future, if we utilize the manifestation-energy properly.  I have not been concentration on manifesting my future because I've largely been keeping up with the present.  Now that I have room to breathe, another key element with Whale due to the breathing hole, I have the peace necessary to embrace the gift of intention and manifestation by creating the life I envision for myself. 

I love the last line in the whale section of "Animal-Speak" which is my go-to book for figuring out the meaning behind my dreams.  "Creativity for the sake of creativity is not what whale teaches.  It awakens great depths of creative inspiration, but so it can add color and light to your outer life to make it more wondrous."  I have to sit back and shake my head, have a good chuckle, over how AWESOME my spiritual peeps are for offering me "a-ha" moments!  Light and Color!  Both huge elements in my dream.  Light because, well I could write a whole separate blog post on Light, but because it illuminates the darkness.  The warmth of the nurturing sun- life giving properties.  Also because I looOooOove sunlight as it pertains to photography.  I notices the nuances of sunlight or lack thereof.  Lately when I meditate the "sun" peeks through in my mind's eye.  The element of color is literally half my life.  My art is such an important part of who I am.  Working with beads, glass, inks, paint... all deal with the manipulation and beauty of color.  One of the first things I notice wherever I go is color, as necessary to me in life as breathing.  God very much wants me to live a colorful life as He does us all. 

The definition of breaching is:

a. An opening, a tear, or a rupture.

b. A gap or rift, especially in or as if in a solid structure such as a dike or fortification.

I was allowed time to go inner, retreat inside fortification, while working out portions of my life, time to heal.  I needed that, and at times still do.  I enjoy my quiet time.  But now Spirit is telling me it is far time to open that enclosure, burst forth from hiding, expose my skills and abilities just as the whale did in my dream, leaping out of the water.

I feel that many people are going through a similar process right now as world-wide more and more people are being shown their own spiritual abilities and gifts so we can all work together to make the earth a more loving place.  It is time to breach, to tear through that which holds you back.  I hope you are all able to access your inner Whale, your true personal majesty, and bring forth whatever it is you have locked inside of you that deserves to see, feel, experience the Light and this rebirth will enrich your own life and the lives of those around you. 

Love and Light to all~

Jennifer  

        

 

An Apocalyptic Nightmare

I knew that we were in trouble in May when I was doing a National Radio show and the host asked me what my prediction for the 2012 Presidential Election was.

“Well, there are two things I don’t like doing so much – giving predictions and talking politics,” I answered, laughing.

“C’mon, Kristy, give us a glimpse into your crystal ball.”

I sighed. I didn’t have a crystal ball and I really didn’t like talking politics. I never followed one party over the other and if ever there was anyone impartial, it was me. “I see Obama winning, but it will go to the 11^th hour and be a close one.”

Click.

“Hello?”  I was astounded that they actually hung up on me.  

The last few weeks of constant political talk had me feeling out of sorts. I stuck to my prediction even when my husband asked me yesterday afternoon when it showed Romney up.

"You still sure, Kristy?”

“Yup,” I answered, my mind elsewhere, trying to avoid political talk.

Even Facebook didn’t gift me a vacation from it. The fighting and name calling was like recess bullying. I just shut the internet down to write.

Oh, I was, and am, grateful for the ability to vote, and I do vote, but I have always believed that in the end our votes don’t really matter anyhow.  Call me a Conspiracy Theorist or paranoid, however I do have a strong feeling (a psychic feeling?) that many of the so-called democracy decisions aren’t voted with a democracy at all - Big Brother deciding, perhaps.

Maybe this is why I had the nightmarish night, since waking up at 2:20 a.m. (Eastern Time for those that analyze that type of thing), I have had a difficult time shaking the dream/premonition, one that I have had several times over the course of six years, but this gave way to the feeling as if it was all nearing. 

Because I am intending on writing a book on this, I am leaving out many details, but the premise is still there.

“They are coming,” I heard my husband whisper to me. “We need to hide.”

I could hear the shuffle of men outside, on the street.

“What are they searching for?” I asked, swallowing the fear.

“They aren’t searching,” he replied, “They are taking us all.”

Before we could find a place to go, the front door was kicked in and a group of men dressed in military uniforms grabbed each one of us, chaining us to others of the same sex. We were being segregated. Large military vehicles were outside the subdivision where we were caged in, like animals. Before getting into the back of the barred vehicle, I could see every street going through the exact same process.  Thousands and thousands of uniformed men, grabbing men, women and kids from their homes and imprisoning them. We knew that we couldn’t talk, or else something bad would happen to us, and the silence was deafening as we awaited our fate, and the fate of our loved ones. It was only about thirty minutes and the vehicles stopped, the back door opened and we were taken like a chain gang to a large University where we were registered and given an implant in our left hand  and left foot with our number.

I tried to shake myself from the nightmare, but couldn’t seem to get out of it. Is this perhaps a past life, I asked myself. Maybe I was in Germany in the concentration camp. But I was answered by the lady who was in the dream with me. Her black hair pasted to her tear stained face. “No, this is 2014. Here and now.”

The bile again crept into my throat as I realized that what we thought was freedom, was nothing of the kind, only a façade, much like a movie set.

Over the loud speaker we heard an announcement that we were going to meet on the lawn, but would be shot dead if we tried to escape. We were released from our chains, and led group by group to the meeting place, a football field sized lawn.  I could see my husband and kids, each in a section with like kinds. I couldn’t find my dad, and felt in my heart that he was gone, and thought that was probably best. He was in a better place, while we would have to deal with this nightmare. The speaker came out, dressed in a suit, and thanked us for being there. As if we had a choice. Someone in the crowd screamed, asked what was going on, and he was shot.

I woke up to the gunshot.

This dream/nightmare/premonition never ever changes, but it has gone further than it did last night, with explanations of what will happen in the next year plus and hints of experiments in the past, from weather (storms) to medical issues. They always show me intense storms for the next year along coastal regions, as if munching away at the people, their spirit and psyche and thinning out the population.  Fires in the west and intense tornadoes in the Midwest in the summer of 2013. Those that survive the storms, the financial fall-out, the medical plagues – well, they become prisoners. Only I never see what happens afterwards to me, or the rest of the prisoners. I only pray that this is a nightmare.

___________________________________________________________________________

Note that this in no way a political view of one party over the other, and had nothing to do with who was elected (or not elected).

Hello Hollywood!! Goodbye Hollywood!!

My last few months have been insane! Between radio segments, print and radio interviews, television and the array of events, it didn’t surprise me when I ended up in the doctor’s office sick with walking pneumonia. He blamed the plane trip to (or from) Los Angeles. I blamed that along with lack of sleep for well over 30 days.  

When I received the call that I was going to be on The Ricki Lake Show, I went through a gambit of emotion, most of all nervousness. I only had a couple days notice and I couldn’t possibly have liposuction, or a face lift (oh, don’t think I didn’t search out feasible ways of doing this!).  I had my best friend who came over and helped me choose outfits (I had to bring several choices), a husband who was telling me that I was beautiful and to stop fretting, and another person in my so-called entourage negating just about everything else.

“Don’t bring pants that make you look heavier.”

“Maybe you should color your hair another color.”

“Umm, maybe I need to coach you on what to say!”

I was ready to scream and my insecurities played out even more. Instead of being a confident forty-something year old, I felt like a freshman in high school all over again. How was a chunky - err...curvy, red-headed Midwest gal going to do a National Television program and not faint? I didn’t know. First I had to deal with my fear of flying.  

The beautifully haunted Culver Hotel

The plane trip there went smoother than I could’ve dreamed, except for the hard landing that actually made the whole plane say, “Oomph!” But we were on the ground and ground was good. Trying to figure out how to get to the car rental place was a bit of a fiasco, but after almost an hour, we found the right shuttle, got a beautiful white beater up car (I was on a budget) and headed out to find The Culver Hotel in Culver City, California. 

We had been warned that LA traffic was a nightmare, but we didn’t’ find it much different than rush hour in Michigan, and definitely not as bad as Chicago traffic. Thank goodness for Mapquest on the iPhone, which made it simple to find our way.

The Culver Hotel is a gorgeous hotel and well known for being haunted, and for being the home to the many Munchkins as they filmed The Wizard of Oz. We were given our key to a top floor room and instructions on where to park (a block and plus away). Although it was only noon LA time, it was 3:00 p.m. our time, and we hadn’t eaten and had been traveling since 3:30 a.m. our time. We were exhausted. It was also our 6^th year wedding anniversary, so instead of napping like I really wanted to, we ran over to a Mexican restaurant where the food was good, but much different than the Mexican we were used to, and then headed out to see some of the sights. It was just a few hours later that both of us were ready to drop from exhaustion and we just headed back to sleep, the sun still high in the LA sky.  We woke up in the middle of the night to our hotel phone ringing. I answered, only to hear breathing. After no response, I hung up and called the front desk.

A crystal clear day!

“No, Ms. Robinett, there was no calls to your room, but this is a common complaint. We are so sorry your sleep was interrupted.”

Darn haunted hotels.

An hour later I was awakened to the noise of footsteps next to my side of the bed, and when I opened my eyes, I found the mirrored amour door opening.  I threw a pillow at the door and muttered, “Come back tomorrow night when I can talk to you – I’m tired!” Nothing else happened that night.

Both Chuck and I woke up at 4 a.m, which would’ve been our normal Michigan time, and did what every anniversary couple would do – played Words With Friends. No, really. That is until breakfast which was granola, yogurt and fresh fruit, and then a walk around town, and finally back to our car where we decided to go sight seeing some more. The show wasn’t until the following day, so we were pretty excited to have an entire day to just chill and relax, or at least try – I was still a nervous wreck.

Picture Perfect Venice Beach. No editing needed!

We made our way first to Venice Beach where they were filming a television show, then to downtown Hollywood – where they were filming a television show. And then to Rodeo Drive – where… they were filming a television show.  One of the prominent things that I took back with me from our sightseeing was that I was astounded at the magnitude of homeless people.  And how there would be a multi-millionaire dollar home right next to a slum neighborhood.  But, I have to say that everybody that we ran into was so friendly and polite – even the homeless.

We had a quick bite to eat for dinner, and then hung out at an outdoor café, drinking raspberry iced tea, and enjoying the breeze and California sun, and once again crashed early.

The studio was walking distance from the hotel, and Chuck and I walked over in the morning so that I could get my hair and makeup done, my wardrobe chosen and miked up. Everybody with the show was absolutely awesome – I can’t say enough about how lovely and friendly everybody was. As soon as I got into the studio, a gentleman came over and said, “You must be a Midwest girl – Michigan, maybe?”

I just laughed and nodded.

“I’m from Detroit!”

Small world!

Everybody with the show reassured me that everything was going to be okay, and they prettied me up enough where I started to feel confident. Until I walked out on stage. I knew I was doing a séance, but I didn't have a clue with whom, and I didn't know how it was going to work on cue. And I didn't at all expect that they would have celebrities at the table, one being a comedian. So while I was trying to do a serious segment, Loni Love, dressed as Honey Boo Boo’s mom joked and I had to roll with it. Thank goodness it went well (and from what I could see, nothing was edited out), and although I was shaking and a nervous wreck, it didn't look like it (I hope). In a blink of an eye, it was over and Chuck and I were hurrying back to the airport to fly home. Just like that.

On the plane ride home, I had a lot to think of, thanks to the lady next to me – the one person on the entire humongous plane who decided to leave her light on for the entire plane ride, and who drank wine and chomped on chips, making it impossible to sleep. Yeah, thanks to her, I had time to think about what my priorities were. The first thing was that you should never ever put sand in a water bottle and put in your suitcase. TSA doesn't like it. But more importantly, I pondered how I always wanted the Hollywood life. Or I thought I did. And although my time in LA was fabulous, I realized that I am a Midwest gal through and through, and proud of it. My nose is mine, my chunk is mine, my boobs are mine – there isn't a facade like a movie set, and I don’t want to change that (well, maybe some of the chunk). I am grateful for the experience, and grateful for everybody who helped me get there, but most of all I am grateful for the new found perception because without it, I might’ve been wishing on Hollywood stars that were put together with unglued glitter waiting to be blown away.

Believe,

Kristy

From Grudge to Gratitude and Pieces to Peace

“To be wronged is nothing, unless you continue to remember it.”
― Confucius

 

“You suck!”

“I don’t love you anymore.”

“I am so disappointed in you.”

“You are ugly!”

“You aren’t at all talented.”

 

Those unkind words, and sometimes truthful words, can certainly hurt, but what hurts even more is hanging on to the words and that hurtful moment, as if they are ghosts of the past continually haunting you. By replaying it over and over, it becomes poison to your confidence, your self esteem and your soul and causes that grudge and a whole other array of emotion to play with your mind and your heart. It stops people from loving again, trying new things, and growing. Like a butterfly stuck in a mason jar, unable to experience the world, the more that you hold on to the grudge, the more you disassemble your life and your true purpose.

 

“Let today be the day you stop being haunted by the ghost of yesterday. Holding a grudge & harboring anger/resentment is poison to the soul. Get even with people...but not those who have hurt us, forget them, instead get even with those who have helped us.”
― Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free

 

As we enter November, the month of gratitude, take the time to write out your list of resentments.  It could be that your biggest resentment is you, yourself. In order to make room for love, you need to remove the hate. Maybe you need to email or call the person you are upset with, just remember to not remove hate with more hate. If you don’t like confrontation, or they have crossed over, simply take out a notepad and start writing. You can burn the letter, releasing the bitterness and sadness. As you watch the smoke rise, think about all the hurt and anger being carried away within the smoke. With each breath you take, you release your hurt and disappointment. It isn’t necessarily forgiving or accepting, it is removing the coal from your hand and your heart. Instead of feeling as if you are in pieces, feel the peace that comes from letting go.

 

"Forgiveness is a sign of positive self-esteem. We no longer identify ourselves by our past injuries and injustices. We are no longer victims."

 

Believe,

Kristy Robinett