Wanting More

I'm here now on the cusp of creating a whole new life. I saw a meme that read, "Ask for more, the universe isn't on a budget." It's one of those breadcrumbs that was meant to stir in my mind until I got it. And it has.

Some of us are conditioned to believe abundance isn't meant for us. Some of us hide behind limiting beliefs that are meant to keep us small and unhappy.

The truth is that we were never meant for lack. We are made for growth, expansion and possibility.

Wanting more isn't greed. It's alignment with our higher selves and everything God's promised if we dare believe. It's saying yes to life's fullness instead of rationing ourselves into scraps.

What we see and can touch in this world holds no real value in a spiritual sense. They are just tools that help us to create and elevate. Abundance is the universal flow of fuel to ignite our souls and help us serve the collective as we are intended. We merely need to convince our minds to remove the guardrails and self-induced limitations.

The universe doesn't do "bare minimum" and neither should we.

So now I unapologetically ask for more.

More peace,

more love,

more joy,

more creativity,

more freedom,

more opportunities to grow and help others grow.

What it takes to bring all that into fruition is not my burden to carry. I know now I just need to hold my higher vibration and believe in the vision I have for my life. The universe will provide.

And as I now dare the universe for more, I encourage you to do the same. There is no budget when it comes to building a life of self-fulfillment and divine purpose.

"Trust and believe and you shall receive." That's God's promise to all of us. You, me... all of us.

Holding On and Moving On

It's been 208 days since Tony took his last breath. Not a lot of time in the grand scheme of things, but it has felt like a lifetime to me.

I was already on a slow journey of self-discovery. His death catapulted my slow awakening into a crash course of survival and surrender.

In these 208 days, I've learned so much about myself. I've learned more than I ever could have imagined about our spiritual reality and how to connect with God and the universe.

I now know that hell isn't some fiery destination. It is a level of consciousness that is so raw and dark. A place where you live in void of hope, light, or faith. I lost myself, my place in this world and I lost my connection to everyone that I loved and everything I was expected to do. I sat with my soul screaming continually due a pain that is so completely indescribable. I literally felt myself being ripped apart, bones and tissue tearing and shredding, because that's the only way I could be separated from him.

One night after hours of gut wrenching crying, I did manage to fall asleep and I found myself in a dark pit. I saw a tiny light come into view. It continued to grow and then I saw a hand reach down for me to pull me out. It was Tony's hand. He saved me.

I've had so many validations of him being with me and supporting me. His presence is undeniable in my life still today. So I've learned to accept that transformation. His energy remains close even though the physical no longer exists. He's with me. Full of his love. Full of his own brand of tenacity pushing me to get on with my life.

So here I am... trying to learn how to move forward without letting him go.

God has shown me what my purpose is and I do have a lot of work yet to do here. There is life yet to be lived and love yet to be shared. I can walk into that more confidently knowing that Tony lives in me. He will be a part of me for the rest of my days here. If another man should choose to love me, he will love me, in part, because of who Tony pushed me to be - in life and in death.

I know that Tony wants me to be happy and have the things that he can't give me now. I'm starting to think that it's possible. I'm starting to feel the excitement of sharing this new me with someone who can appreciate it and wants to enjoy what's left of this life with me. Someone who can accept that there is a space in my soul that will forever be Tony's and only Tony's, but that someone can also see the depth of who I am and how much I still have to give.

So I smile,

take a deep breath,

muster all my faith,

and ask the universe to show me how good it can get.

Your First Day

I used to joke with Tony every time he expected me to be surprised about his behaviors. I'd say, "Not my first day."

In the wake of his death, the conditioning to cling to what was lost - the regrets of moments never realized - danced through my mind. That famous song resonated, urging you to live like you are dying. But what did that mean? How would I do that?

The universe gave me that very answer in the way of a video clip that challenged that narrative. A deeper shift in perspective. Rather than the typical thoughts of quitting your job, spending all your money and living a life without guardrails - what if we set our intention at living like it's our first day?

Time isn't running out. It's inviting us forward. Adult life can make us lose sight of that. We aren't meant to give up the sweeter things that bring us joy, curiosity, playfulness - the things that energize our inner being.

What made you smile or feel good as a child? Do that again!

Did you love art?

Did you love to build?

Did you lay in a field and watch the sun move across the sky?

Did you play in the rain?

Life isn't about abandoning happiness or saying goodbye. It's how we show up for the hellos. It is our birthright to feel joy in the life that meets us each day. It's our soul mission to share that in whatever way possible.

Each day is a gift of hope. It is your first day to be the person you choose to be. Choose love.

And despite all that has happened, I'd do anything to go back and have that first day with Tony - to learn him all over again. That's where I find my joy - in the remembrance. Unrealized moments can't have power over what was lived.