Speaking Your Truth

Written by Keith Varnum


I should have been enjoyingrepparttar soothing caress ofrepparttar 123318 playful breeze as it wafted its way through my hair on this balmy evening inrepparttar 123319 Hollywood Hills section of Los Angeles. Instead, I was too self- absorbed to noticerepparttar 123320 sweet, spicy fragrance of spring blossoms inrepparttar 123321 wind. I was brooding over what I should say in my speaking engagement due to commence in about ten minutes insiderepparttar 123322 East-West Institute meditation center. In a muted voice, I was practicing my speech aloud when I was startled by a shadow invading my private corner ofrepparttar 123323 porch. The sudden appearance of a tall, swarthy stranger looming over my anxious figure temporarily seduced me out of my self-indulgence. Obviously sensing my mood and malady,repparttar 123324 lanky, dark-skinned man tried to coax me out of my funk in a soft, gentle, yet assured tone, "What'srepparttar 123325 matter, cat got your tongue? Didn't I hear you rehearsing some lines?"

"Yes, I'm preparing my presentation for this evening. I can't decide what to talk about. I don't know if people really want to hear what I have to say aboutrepparttar 123326 subject. Maybe I should just quote fromrepparttar 123327 published research onrepparttar 123328 topic and let it go at that," I replied despondently.

"It's none of my business, but why don't you just speak from your heart what you've encountered personally?" "Oh, that would be too easy!" I laughed. This bold, mysterious advisor had shifted me out of my doom and gloom. I was grateful for that. "Besides, people don't care what a twenty-year-old knows about healing. I'd better adhere to whatrepparttar 123329 experts and professionals have to say."

"Suit yourself, but I've fared much better sticking to what I've discovered firsthand. May I tell you a story?" I nodded agreement. I was thankful for any distraction at this point. A tale sounded likerepparttar 123330 perfect antidote torepparttar 123331 seriousness that had overtaken me. Through a personal story, my candid friend offeredrepparttar 123332 most precise and useful advice regarding communication I have ever received.

"Most of my early life growing up in Morocco, I was sickly," Michael began soberly. "After years of searching and experimenting in my quest for health, I came across a book by George Osawa,repparttar 123333 originator of a philosophy of healthy living called macrobiotics. Encouraged by my discovery, I devoured allrepparttar 123334 books by Osawa I could find. By eating, thinking and livingrepparttar 123335 macrobiotic way of life, I transformedrepparttar 123336 ailing youth I once was."

"I felt robust and alive again," Michael enthused. "My recovery was so miraculous and complete, I decided to devote my life to helping others inrepparttar 123337 same way George Osawa helped me. With great exuberance, I began to give public presentations aboutrepparttar 123338 macrobiotic system of eating and living. I described in detail how sickly I'd been. I expounded uponrepparttar 123339 vitality I now enjoy and how blessed I am. Hundreds of desperate North Africans were attracted to my talks- people seekingrepparttar 123340 restoration of fitness that I achieved."

Michael's poise and sincerity in recounting his tale to me explained his immediate popularity onrepparttar 123341 lecture circuit. His compassion and dedication was palpable inrepparttar 123342 cool night air.

"But as more and more people came to my talks and my reputation grew throughoutrepparttar 123343 Arab world, I began to develop a severe throat problem, " Michael continued. "At first, my throat would just itch. I coughed a lot during my speeches. As I continued to address larger and larger crowds,repparttar 123344 tickle in my throat became an acute ache. My voice gradually became harsh and grating. I was stubborn and intent upon my holy mission to help others. I insisted on keeping up my hectic speaking schedule. Finally, inrepparttar 123345 middle ofrepparttar 123346 evening lecturing torepparttar 123347 largest audience I'd ever assembled, my throat started to bleed. Of course, in my arrogance, I attempted to keep going. Eventually I was coughing up so much blood, I had to stop talking forrepparttar 123348 evening."

Asrepparttar 123349 tenacious stranger paused, I drew a quick, halting breath. I feltrepparttar 123350 need to bolster myself before he resumed. I was visibly rattled byrepparttar 123351 focus of his story. I was about to lecture onrepparttar 123352 same topic of macrobiotics to several hundred anguished souls also searching for help. The similarities were remarkable;repparttar 123353 coincidence unnerving. My hands and legs were trembling. I grabbedrepparttar 123354 wooden railing ofrepparttar 123355 stairs to stabilize myself. Why was I reacting so strongly to his story? I asked myself. I was afraid to know.

"After a frustrating week of saving my voice and waiting for my throat to heal, I began lecturing again," Michael carried on with his cautionary tale. "The same problem appeared after just ten minutes atrepparttar 123356 podium. This became a pattern forrepparttar 123357 next few months. I'd reluctantly take time off for my throat to heal. Then I'd return to my speaking schedule. Shortly into my next talk, I'd begin coughing up blood again and be forced to stop. It was extremely frustrating, to sayrepparttar 123358 least!

"I consulted many medical doctors. No practitioner could find anything medically or physiologically abnormal with my throat. I saw I must look elsewhere for relief. Needing to gain my own insight intorepparttar 123359 problem, I'd have to heal it myself.

No Invitation Needed: Sacred Children Series - 3 of 3

Written by Skye Thomas


No Invitation Needed Sacred Children Series - 3 of 3

I had my first two children on either side of my twenty-third and twenty-fifth birthdays. I had always assumed that byrepparttar time I was forty, I'd have a ton of freedom to finally push forward with my dreams of becoming a motivational writer and speaker. It really looked like that wasrepparttar 123317 way my life was going to go too.

I fell in love with a man when I was in my mid-thirties and he was in his mid-forties. We were very much in love and planning to get married. I actually found myself wishing I could have his baby. I hadn't felt like that in many years. We were discussing whether or not to have a child together. We both lovedrepparttar 123318 idea, but we were also looking atrepparttar 123319 reality of our lives, our finances, our circumstances, and especially our ages. Was this really something to even consider so late inrepparttar 123320 game? Could we say yes to another child? Could we say no?

As it turned out, I got pregnant despite using two forms of birth control before we could even make up our minds if we were going to have a child together or not. We decided that it must be fate that we'd have one more. We agreed that I'd work from home on my writing career while carrying our child. I was nervous about having a baby when I was so involved in my work, but I was also so grateful thatrepparttar 123321 decision had been made by a higher power than me.

I had been talking with guardian angels for many years by that time and felt a spiritual calling to become a writer and to tellrepparttar 123322 stories that my angels wanted told. I had been told which books to write and was working on an outline for one of them when a little voice whispered to me. It told me to go lay down onrepparttar 123323 couch and meditate because it had something to tell me. I thought it was one of my angels, so I raced over torepparttar 123324 couch to hear what they had to say to me.

The entity told me that he was my unborn child. I saw a vision of a darling two-year-old boy with magical eyes. He looked at me like he had delicious little secrets. He said that he was going to be a boy and that we used to know him as Michael. He then told me what his new name would be. He also assured me that when they ranrepparttar 123325 tests to check for birth defects, that I'd see that he was going to be strong and healthy. I had nothing to worry about.

Afterrepparttar 123326 vision was over, I looked uprepparttar 123327 name he'd given me inrepparttar 123328 baby names books. His name is an old Celtic name meaning fiery. That made me laugh aloud. His father and I both have a decent amount of Irish blood in our heritage, and we both have always dreamed of going to Ireland to seerepparttar 123329 castles. Our very first conversation was about Ireland. Our relationship was very heated and passionate. Of course our son would have a Celtic name meaning fiery! When I told his dad that night, he agreedrepparttar 123330 name fit perfectly. Who are we not to call him byrepparttar 123331 name he chose for himself?

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