Category Archives: My Story

Moving On

I don’t know anyone, anywhere on the face of the earth that has found home in so many places as I have. I am at it again.

Don’t get me wrong, I am abundantly grateful for every single one, whether it was a small nook in a cranny somewhere or a massive villa, no matter how big or small, short or long – the people, the lifestyle, the places opened new horizons and altered my reality forever. I feel eternally BLISSED with precious memories of each and every person into who’s eyes I have peered deeply and each place I have called home.

Never having left my small community, except to vacation in Jamaica and the Caribbean, I thought I had achieved homesteading when I purchased my first house at 17 years of age. Soon after, I was married and running the family business with my husband. Till one day, nine years later, life as I knew it, self imploded when my husband and our maid of honour became lovers. Marianne Faithfull wrote a song which says it all. Why’d ya do it? Our maid of honour gave me her album Broken English to mark the occasion.

Marianne Faithfull’s Ballad of Lucy Jordan catapulted me next into riding through the streets of Paris in a white sports car with the warm wind blowing in my hair, by the age of 27. I accepted a ride from a guy at a cafe in Paris who just happened to have a white sports car – I had never driven in Paris before – accustomed to northern Ontario law abiding 60 MPH speed limits – it was the scariest ride of my life – especially once we hit the speeds on the peripherique. Yet, in no time, with my international driver’s license in hand, I was shifting gears to keep up in my R5 and wasn’t scared at all.

I spent the next 10 years globe trotting, living in several different lands and working in various industries. I homesteaded again, remaining in the same house and blissfully paused for our son’s “education” for 12 wonderful years. His father had left already when he took his lawyer as his lover, and when our son left home, so did I. I Unplugged. I was on a mission.

In pursuit of shattering the limiting beliefs about wellness and sharing the healing phenomena I had discovered in practicing Auricular Acupressure to music with the world, I found home on Ibiza in 2008. Warmly welcomed in a myriad of places amongst some of the most astonishing people in the world, I feel right at home there.

I BLISSFULLY shared my art which was welcomed all over the island, until I fell and severed the tendon to my thumb halting my ability to share and practice rather abruptly and catapulted me back to my home land to have reconstructive hand surgery. I lost the ability to use my hand in 2013 for a solid 3 months while it healed in a cast.

I spent another 6 months rehabilitating it so that I could do things again. Retraining my newly constructed hand to do normal things like holding a hair brush in my hand, a toothbrush, a knife and fork, was long and tedious. My handwriting was eligible until about a year ago- now it looks almost like my original script, but i could type and talk so I worked in the machine typing and talking while i rebuilt my hand.

The greatest therapy for me however, was gradually returning to my art of reflexology where my right hand grew in synch with my left with each set of ears I’ve simultaneously squeezed. My left hand encouraged my right hand to keep up in my ability to open and close my thumb and index and then let go to squeeze. My hands are equally strong now thanks to the ears I’ve been squeezing up here in the north, where only the brave ones, who’ve tired to find relief in the medical system and failed have been my gurus. One set of ears at a time teaching me volumes about wellness. The time has come to get back to where I was in sharing that knowing with others

Now that my hand is strong enough to return to my art full time again, and the universe has mysteriously cleared the slate for me to do so, I want to squeeze people’s ears to music again. I need to go to where the music is, so it’s time to move on.  I am leaving the north for Toronto, where I’ll have access to some beats to work with and many more sets of ears to squeeze and share the self healing miracle we all have attached to our head.

I have lost count of the number of places I have called home since I left home when my son did, but I can fondly remember the feel of each of the people and places. Each offered a new entourage and environment for me to devour with great enthusiasm and learn and grow with. I welcome with tremendous appetite each new adventure. Whenever “things” get lighter I know I am about to bounce. It’s a law of nature, you can’t move around the globe with all of your worldly possessions in tow. You have to let go.

North Bay has served me well as an incubator for my hand recovery but the time has come to expand my services to reach more people so it’s time, once again, to move on.

Whether by choice or circumstance, moving on, every single time, makes me feel more than I had ever felt before, about stepping out into the Great Mystery in my chosen direction.  The unknown doesn’t scare the crap out of me – much – anymore but when it does I know I am right on course to fulfilling my highest good. A bit of an edge of fear for good standing, an adventurous amount of curiosity for excitement, a full measure of love for stability and a leap of faith is all takes!

I welcome your ears with open arms, strong hands and nimble fingers!


Sexual Healing

A greater understanding
Of forgiveness –
Of gratitude
Of heart emoticon
I’ll never forget the bitter bite of reality with my mother’s denial and my father’s profound awakening when I read them their letters. My father took his life. In denial, my mother continues to commit a slow suicide.
This letter of forgiveness written by Teza to her father should be heard by all because…
Thing is we aren’t special – we aren’t special at all. Every where I was, from the time I was a little girl, no matter where in the world I landed, I have experienced, witnessed or heard first hand accounts of the degradation of women and children by the men, and the mother’s and women who turned a blind eye to the sexual trespasses on the children.
It is not a new story – it’s been practiced at all levels of hierarchy for eons. In some cultures it is quite ok. If not by dominance, with porn. The taboo is that it be known the degree to which it permeates reality – the reality you live in – your preachers, your teachers and your politicians have it all pegged – just turn on the TV – women & men are now desensitized to the point they accept being objectified as a sex aids – from the fairy tales right on up. There is so much more life they are robbed of as a result. Their true identity, killing their life FORCE
Everyone who has had their sexual boundaries trespassed, or knows someone who has, would gain profound insight on so many levels by listening to this beautiful letter of forgiveness and heal deeply.
Thank you for your courage Teza
Eternally grateful for this ride!