Waking Up: More IVF Resolution

It’s 7:30am. I’ve been awake for two hours.

I meditate every night before I go to sleep. And, what I mean by that, is that I am asleep within minutes of putting the meditation on; I usually don’t get beyond the first few breaths and comfortable position lol. So, I also meditate when I wake. This morning I didn’t because I was lathered in kisses from an excited puppy before my eyes were even open. However, I still practiced gratitude and set my intentions for today.

It’s a glorious way to start the day: in calm and at peace, lavished by love.

I have set today’s work, put the washing on, stripped the bed, organised my healing work, done the dishes, watered the plants, and dissolved the emotional charges on my failed IVF procedures (started yesterday).

The benefits of doing IVF:

~ I was enabled to support others in their journey

~ I have no regrets about not trying

~ I felt the excitement of selecting donors, loved the many needles, loved the routine, loved the process, loved learning, loved the promise

~ greater empathy for the struggles of pregnancy and miscarriage

~ I experienced another version of myself

The drawbacks of doing IVF:

~ I didn’t give birth

~ I miscarried

~ I was a different person for a few years

~ I struggled in alone-ness

The benefits of not holding the pregnancy and giving birth:

~ I just worry about me and my fur kids

~ I travel

~ I complete learning courses

~ I meet new and incredible people all of the time

~ I am free

~ I am soul happy and fulfilled

~ I started my businesses

~ I reignited my passion for teaching through tutoring

~ I still impact a whole heap of people’s lives positively

~ I am healing all of my baggage and have the time to do it

~ I can be selfish

The drawbacks of not holding the pregnancy and giving birth:

~ I have not been a birth mum this incarnation; however, I am a mother (albeit a bad one a lot of the time) to Amanda and a mother spirit to countless others

I am grateful for the experience, and I am equally grateful I didn’t become a birth mother.

I am feeling a deep sense of blessing, love and gratitude again. This is such a powerful method for bringing balance.

I need to dissolve the charge on the miscarriage. That will be my next venture. Some of it will be similar, but I need to look at the balance of support in that one too. The universe always provides.

Now, I’ve blogged too, and it’s only 7:52am.


Have a great day!


Demartini and Gratitude

I have mentioned the Dimartini method before. It is a method, that when used, brings the body, mind and spirit into balance by dissolving the emotional charge that memories have created.

The main purpose for me in taking this year off from my full time job was to heal my mind, body and spirit after the events of last year. Not just from the investigation, but everything that I have chosen in my life to this point. I wanted to leave 2017 in balance and healthy, emotionally, physically and spiritually. In light of this intention, I pledged to myself that I would answer every call that I received.

I have done that. Even when I haven’t understood why or have been terrified or uncomfortable, I have answered the call.

This has been the best year of my life.

It is the first best year of many, many more best years to come. Every year from now on will become the best year of my life.

Today I answered another call. When Peter Bliss started talking about the Dimartini Method during our mindfulness sessions at Yulara, I felt that it was the missing piece for me in my life journey.

I listened intently to everything that Peter and his beautiful wife, Mai Mai, had to say about this method and how it worked. I started to incorporate the language into my vocabulary – the principles I sort of understood because they weren’t far removed from where my own healing journey and work has lead me thus far this year. Mai Mai possesses a beautiful and still energy that I was drawn to and I resolved to book in for a session when we returned home.

My first session was today.

I went a little nervously, armed with my list of memories of events that still trigger emotions today because of their connection to the past. It is a fairly long list, but not as long as it would have been had I not worked so hard on myself all these years. A big hug started and ended our session; how blessed am I to be in this woman’s energy.

I talked about my post this morning, and how I keep having epiphanies and ah-ha moments. Mai Mai explained how emotions and charges work, and outlined what we are striving for.

Most people do not grow very much and experience the extremes of emotion; imagine a straight line across the page with sharp, jagged lines up and down on both sides of the line, similar to a heart monitor, that shape. The straight line is the person and their lack of growth, and the jagged lines are the emotions, a never ending cycle of ups and downs.

What I am aiming for is a diagonal line from left to right to indicate growth, with soft undulating waves just above and below the line. This is growth with balance, as I understood it.

We started work. The need for control in my life has emerged from a misperception from my childhood that I wasn’t worth very much. One of the key incidents that resulted in my lack of belief in me as an attractive person stemmed from a message I received when I was young. I have written about it here a few times (yep, it needed dissolving).

My sisters and I were standing together whilst mum spoke to a hairdresser friend of hers. The friend commented on how pretty my two blonde sisters were.

Mai Mai asked me who gave me support in this situation. The idea is that when there is a situation where we feel attacked or unseen or unheard (you get the drift), there will also be someone providing balance by giving the opposite action.

Initially, I was struck dumb by the question. I received no support from anyone, that’s why it impacted. Mai Mai kept digging. Then I thought of Aunty Ann who had validated my other-ness my whole life. No, it had to be someone there … processing the memory, reliving it (with my dodgy arse memory), perplexed, then realising, I didn’t feel disconnected from my sisters or my mum. In that moment, I still felt a part of my family, and my mum may even have touched my arm. Ah. There was support as well as derision; my narrative hadn’t empowered me to remember this or focus on it at the time.

Then, Mai Mai asked what the drawback was for me (felt like I was ugly), then what the benefit was (yikes!). Well, she was a bitch. There could be no benefit. Could there?

Yes. There could be a benefit; a whole stream of benefits. As a result of my early awareness that I was ugly, I focused on developing my intelligence, and my compassion and empathy for others. As a result of this, I excelled at school, went to university (hold a Masters degree), have taught successfully for twenty five years, am well regarded, fondly remembered and often told how strong my impact on others is, run a very successful business and am a lifelong learner, as well as fucking attractive (swearing for emphasis of the gains).

Mai Mai then asked me to consider what my life might look like had this incident not occurred. Oh my.

A light bulb sparked for me. I literally felt the negative emotion dissolve away to intense gratitude and love for this woman that I have scorned for decades. I had no words. I had tears rise. I could not believe the gift this woman had given me by ignoring me that day. In part, everything I am in this moment is as a result of this memory, now diffused.

My perception of the incident is now balanced. The charge is gone. And, then the most bizarre physical reaction occurred. In my belly I could feel the cells re-pattern and reorganise themselves, similar to how I feel the BodyTalk sessions; butterflies but not.

In my mind, young ugly Tina (😜) put her hands in prayer and thanked the woman, like we were reliving the moment again with the wisdom now accrued.

And so, thank you woman in the salon, many times, THANK YOU! Your negativity empowered and inspired me to be better and to be rounded. It also ensured my underlying philosophy for teaching, all children will be included and reminded that they are perfect just as they are.

And Tina, thank you for heeding the call. What an incredible journey this life is, and it will only get better as you continue to grow and dissolve charges.

And, Peter, thank you for the retreat that lead me here, for your wisdom and love.

Mai Mai – thank YOU for being you and for embracing me in all my imperfection and perfection. I am so excited to share this part of my journey with you.

Blessed. Grateful. Empowered.


Letting Go: Failed IVF, the Investigation, Fear and Control

Hi. My name is Tina and I am a recovering control freak.

As a child, I felt so out of control so much of the time, that as an adult I have tried to control everything.

I figured that if I had control, life would be good and I would become blissfully happy. I have spent my entire adult life controlling or trying to control everything. I have never really just let go.

Until now.

Thank you, Uluru, for your sacred healing energy that infused a trust for the divine into my soul. I am still, still. There is a calm and a peace in my depths that tranquilises any fear or anxiety that may arise.

I am very zen.

And as a result, obstacles are dissolving.

I only know this because I know the other side, too intimately.

For the best part of five years I tried to control falling pregnant and having a baby. When I did fall pregnant, my fear of not having control expunged the foetus from my body.

This was an opportunity to learn a strong lesson, that I failed to learn. The lesson was that I needed to trust the higher powers, whatever and whoever they are. I needed to trust the flow of life and the contract I made with myself prior to my birth into this incarnation. I needed to trust, full stop.

I then didn’t trust my family and friends to be there for and with me, and I tried to control that too. And so, I was alone.

Fear is a great controller. Broken, from failing to control everything, fear seeped into the wounds and kept me bound. I couldn’t move forward, or even see behind me. There was just the moment, and not in a zen way.

Failing at pregnancy, I turned to fostering. Again, trying to control, I wasn’t enough; my reason for fostering wasn’t enough. I was confused and broken, belittled and worthless. Again.

All the while, I was being bullied at work, reliving aspects of my childhood I thought I had resolved years before. I was used by people whom I trusted. I was belittled and betrayed. I tried to fight back without conflict, with understanding and compassion I told myself, but really, my fighting was fear manifested. I tried to control from a very weak and inauthentic place, and that resulted in poor choices.

The fear resulted in a ten month long investigation. Ten months of fear and anxiety, and a strong, visceral reminder that I control nothing. Subconsciously this fed the I am worthless narrative I had been telling myself my whole life. My desire and need for control was really just me trying to feel like I was worth something and trying to prove that to everyone else.

“I’m pregnant, look everyone. I belong. I am normal. I am one of you.”

“I’m a head teacher, look everyone. I belong. I’m normal. I am one of you.”

“I’m a foster parent, look everyone. I belong. I’m normal. I’m one of you.”

Years ago, at a crossroads professionally, I went to a medium. She acknowledged my crossroads. She told me my two alternatives. Promotion at work, or book signings as a healer and teacher.

Fear, manifested as control, kept me bound, until the investigation and then India. Prior to the investigation, the universe had started to untie my bounds. I had paid my deposit for India. I had completed many natural healing courses. I had registered a business name and received an ABN.

Last year, paradoxically, I had my worst professional year and my best. I was amazing in the classroom; I was exemplary. I was an amazing mentor slash healer. I loved teaching and being with the kids. But, my life and my soul fell apart.

I was forced to relinquish control. I needed to find trust that I was being redirected. I was coming home.

But, in the midst of anxiety and fear, I couldn’t see this. Almost a year after the investigation concluded, I can see it. Clearly. And today, I can feel it. Freedom. Bliss. Purpose. Fulfillment.

I am a healer. I am a teacher. I am a writer. More than that, I am me. A recovering control freak, a survivor of childhood dysfunction, and a braver scaredy cat.


To Tattoo or Not To Tattoo


The Project last night reported on a survey of people. They said that most women love a tattooed man; however, most men would not date a tattooed woman.


This fascination in first world society to tell others how to live, and what is or is not acceptable, is so unenlightened. I realize that tattooing is a personal taste thing, but the ignorance of some people still astounds me.

It doesn’t matter in the broad scheme of life whether you like tattoos or not; no one is forcing you to get one. It does matter though, if you demonstrate prejudice or ignorance towards the choices of others, and make sweeping generalizations about a person’s character based on their choice to have tattoos.

One lady made negative assumptions about people who choose to have neck and hand tattoos. Really?! I have birds on my neck, and symbols for wisdom and connectedness as well as Buddhist life symbols on my hands.

Tattoos are my voice. I didn’t realize at first, how significantly tattoos empowered and enabled me an avenue of permanent expression. It seems very logical now. As a child I felt unheard. I felt that what I thought and felt was erasable. Rightly or wrongly.

As an adult, I choose to express my thoughts and beliefs on my body. Not for attention, not from ignorance, but for me. I empowered my voice, and ultimately, that journey enabled me to empower my whole self.

People who spend time with me at the beginning of Spring will attest how much I dislike and feel awkward about the attention my tattoos garner. I cringe. Positive or negative, the attention and being in the spotlight is something I do not crave. However, I accept that it is a byproduct of being a heavily tattooed female in a misogynistic society (lol – that last bit is a bit of a tease only).

I respect your right to not like or to not have tattoos; please respect my right to have them. I am grateful that society is not as ignorant as it once was, but there are more important human rights issues that need attention.

Same sex marriage/equality

Rising illiteracy rates

Increasingly violent and aggressive children

Childhood sexual abuse

Domestic violence

Housing and heating costs

Homelessness and disconnection

Increasing rates of depression and anxiety

And the list goes on …

The Gift of Teaching

Possibly ironic as I prepare to leave the profession; however, timely in my life as a reminder that my years as a teacher have not for a single second been wasted.

I caught up with an ex-student for breakfast this morning. She is now 34 and the universe conspired for us to run into each other at a library last week. There are no coincidences.

She wanted to say thank you to me. This morning she articulated the impact my existence had made on her; humbling and beautiful. To offer any child some semblance of hope or inspiration or something positive at all is why I became a teacher and what drove me for twenty four years.

She has lived her life in service and she has fought many difficult battles to be accepted for this and to be able to do this. She is truly inspirational. And realistically, what I gave her was permission to be her and to follow her bliss.

What an amazing gift. And one that good teachers provide for their students every single day.

We all fulfill a role in this world when we follow our bliss and live our best life.

Those of us who are agitators and disrupters of the status quo have a hard road to follow in some respects, but man, the rewards, like this morning’s catch up, make the bumps and ditches worthwhile.

Ultimately, we all need validation. If we say we don’t, we are lying to ourselves. I received that again today. And I gave that today.

Who can you validate today?



I have no idea where to start with this. You know when you have an experience and you feel that you and your life will never be the same again, but you can’t articulate how.

That’s where I am.

I left Uluru and our wellness team over a week ago. I have been waiting for the words to come. They are there, but haven’t come through properly yet.

Our last morning together was powerful. Quidong in the gorge at Uluru followed by our last breakfast together. That feeling when you don’t want to leave … the place or the people.

Ken rose to express some final words of gratitude. By the end of it I don’t think there was a dry eye around the table; mine were definitely wet, as were my cheeks, my neck and my t-shirt lol.

Uluru is a sacred place. Her energy is palpable, and she is unexpected. Photographs do not show you all of the grooves, holes, caves, gorges, quiet places. In fact, photographs delude you into thinking the rock was just placed there. And her changing colors – only presence and your own eyes do this justice. Such a magick there, a healing and stilling magick.

And we were so blessed to spend so much time there, bathing in the majesty of something truly otherworldly, with people impacted as much as I was.

What a charmed life I lead. And how blessed am I that last year was so yuck I needed to take a year to rediscover who I was and explore our world. I’ve been to some incredible places, and I’ve met some beautifully incredible people, and caught up with amazing friends.

Peace. Blessings. Gratitude.

Road Kill?

Margo, don’t read this post.

I am still processing and assimilating the changes and shifts from my Uluru Wellness Adventure. Insights will start to come through over the next couple of days, I am sure.

However, after we left Barcaldine on Sunday, we realized we needed to go back to get some petrol. It is funny the way events become connected throughout our lives. A Sliding Doors moment; if we had risked it and kept moving forward, this would not have impacted our lives. It was the only sour moment of the entire trip.

As we left Barcaldine for the second time, an oncoming vehicle hit a kangaroo and left it lying, anguished, in the middle of the lane.

We are animal lovers. Our animals are worshipped like gods and spoiled rotten. This scenario was only a notch down from us hitting the roo ourselves; the only aspect to reduce the trauma we both felt.

We stopped. We leapt from the car. Two city girls with no idea what to do, but with an urgency to do something for this defeated animal.

I instantly put my hands up, sending energy, speaking in soothing tones, as I approached slowly. Blood was pooling in the roo’s mouth and dripping from the side, its left leg immobile under a shaking body. Margo was shielding the roo from potential oncoming traffic.

We knew we needed to move the roo from the road. In truth, we knew we needed to euthanize the roo; a kangaroo with a broken leg cannot survive the pecking crows and vulturistic hawks always lying in wait of road kill.

Thankfully, a car with P plates pulled over. The young girl asked me the condition of the roo and then told her male friend to get his knife.

My heart stopped: would I be able to witness this. Did I love animals sincerely enough to be able to put one out of its torment and honour its life with a humane death?

The young male pulled the roo, by the tail, from the road, out of the path of oncoming traffic and a sure squashing. Another car pulled up and looked at the roo, he told us there was no hope of survival and it was kinder to kill it. At this point, I thought that was under control. He left.

The girl was pregnant, and decided she could not slit its throats in case the roo attacked her. Their attacks can be lethal, this much I know. Her friend said he had never used a knife and didn’t feel confident that he could do it without causing more pain and anguish.

I could not do it because I did not know how. I also could not wring its neck because I did not know how. I have been carrying guilt about not being able to euthanize the roo.

I have focused on the benefits and drawbacks for every aspect of this situation, and have been dissolving the charge as much as I can. Quite clinically, I have appraised what was realistic and what was not. I feel that I am mostly at peace with it.

Road kill is inevitable in the outback. I was surprised that with over 7000 kilometers travelled in a Hyundai i30 we did not come close to hitting an animal. This was the closest.

I have always said a ‘prayer’ for the souls of road kill that I have seen on the side of the road; in the last two weeks I think I have said more prayers than I ever thought would be possible. Seeing an animal in their last moments of life on the side of the road humanises the experience to a much deeper level.

It really forces you to confront who you are.

It would have been hard to watch the roo die, but I think it was harder to leave it partially alive. I sent it healing until I felt it had passed. It took about twenty five minutes, maybe a bit longer. My energy and my mind were with it. I thought helping Harry was hard; this was next level.

When you see so much road kill, it is easy to become desensitized. But, what I know for sure, is that every being deserves to live and die humanely, being honoured for their service during this lifetime, and nobody deserves to die alone.

I still feel a little guilt. I wish I had known how to humanely kill the roo. But I didn’t know how. The drawback to trying would be the infliction of more trauma. Epiphany. Just now.

Last year, when the investigation was finally over, an early investigator wrote in their report that I was “self-serving”. This has stayed with me. Self-serving strongly suggests to me that I gave no thought to the implications of my actions for others, and this was so not true. I think I became paralyzed because I was thinking of others.

This was my test. This was my chance to dissolve that charge. Self-serving, in this case, would have been to try to kill the roo so that I could assuage my guilt. Thinking logically, this would have caused more trauma to the roo.

There are times when I am self-serving. That’s not a bad thing. There are times when it is vital to be self-serving, and there is nothing wrong with that. This was not one of those times, and the action that resulted in the investigation was also not one of those times.

I was not self-serving. I was terrified.

But, I have grown and I have learned since then.

I was calm in the face of this situation. I did what I could do. And, that’s enough.

I am no longer the abused child living from a place of fear. I am a strong woman living from a place of love.

I am grateful and I am blessed.

Dissolving Charges

I am in the process of learning a new method (for me) for balancing emotions, and empowering the mind, body and spirit to return to balance. Interestingly, ironically, or whatever it is, I was practising the method with Margo (frustratingly for her I’m sure) in the car before we met Harry.

Interestingly etc, because I then applied the method, as I currently understand it, to Harry’s death and the grief I felt. I’m going to try to explain it here. It’s a valuable one if you are over the drama of life and just want peace. It’s a method devised by John DeMartini from years of study and research. I have gained this basic, yet very powerful, understanding from Peter Bliss and Mai Mai Lin. I will be doing more work in this area.

The basic premise is that we are human. We will feel intense emotions. That’s okay. However, so many of us hold onto those emotions so tightly that we move away from homeostasis (balance). Those emotions, and our refusal or inability to dissolve the charge (neutralize them), creates unnecessary drama and unhelpful patterns in our lives.

I’m going to use Harry as a basic example. Anyone who knows me, pretty much knows that I have a very idealistic view of animals; it is irrational in this scientific and logical world, but it is who I choose to be with no desire to change it. As a result, holding Harry (naming a wild thing only proves my initial point lol – remember, Holly Golightly refused to name Cat because of the inevitable attachment that would form) inspired a deep soul connection for me.

Upon receiving the news that he was not going to make it (euphemism after euphemism here – the power of language), I felt grief struck. I cried and carried it with me for a couple of hours whilst my brain processed the events. Then, I tried to dissolve the grief.

I focused on the gratitude for the experience and what I had learned. When people or creatures die, we idealize them a little, focusing on the good and ignoring their very real flaws. I did the same with Harry; he was a wild creature we were going to save.

But, Harry was also a silly hawk. Harry flew near a 4WD on a major highway when he had miles and miles of other land to fly in. Harry also died a humane and dignified death, receiving reiki for his pain and not being pecked at by crows on the side of the road (like too many others). I learned from my connection to this wild thing and I humbly received the message from the universe that his entry into my life signified.

As a result, I have let Harry go in love. I have dissolved the charge of the grief, neutralized it. It does not lessen the impact of his life nor does it mean I didn’t care. Simply put, I don’t feel guilt or loss, I feel calm and balanced. The grief is not internalized, but neutralised.

It is very empowering.

Like I said, this is a simple example of my understanding of the method. And, I can’t wait to learn more.

RIP My Friend Harry

I am still very much processing the retreat and the impact it has made on my life; I am changed.

However, that is not what this post is about because today, my friend Harry died.

I met Harry at Erlunda Roadhouse this morning. Margo and I were getting petrol and a girl was walking around asking if people were heading to Alice Springs.

We were.

She asked if we could take an injured hawk to a vet there. They had been driving from Uluru towards Coober Pedy and Harry flew into the edge of the car, clipping his wing. Coober Pedy was five hours away; Alice was only two and a bit. Getting to Alice was his best bet.

Wrapped in a blue towel, it was touch and go already for Harry. His little brown eye looking at us wondering what on earth had happened.

An indigenous woman walked over to us as we were lying him in a box for safety for the road ahead. The crows were ravenously circling. She looked at him. She said we should put him out of his misery. I told her there was no way I could do it.

The crows, her, I knew he wasn’t going to make it, and I said as much to the people who gave him to us, “The crows are circling, they smell death.” I don’t even know how I knew this, but sometimes I go into that place where I just know (remember) things.

Still, into the car he came. I held onto his box tightly whilst Margo clutched the wheel just as tightly, hoping that with a bit of speed we could save him.

He moved and spoke a couple of times, squawking loudly and beating his wing. I bent my head down, and reassured him that he was safe, putting my hand over his lungs and willing him to keep breathing. His chest moved under my hand as he calmed down, reiki energy diffusing the pain that he must have been enduring.

He fell asleep.

After a while, I couldn’t feel his breathing, and scared, I gripped the box tighter.

We made it to Alice. I took him in to the nurse, “I’m too scared to check if he is alive.”

She opened the towel and reassured me that he was alive. She informed me that the vet would check him over, and if the damage wasn’t bad, he would be looked after and freed eventually. However, if it was bad, they would need to euthanize him.

I expressed my connection to him and asked if I could call later to check in. She said, “Of course. But if we have to put him down, don’t yell at me.”

Shocked, she explained that people do. I said I wouldn’t. I understood that his best interests overrode my interests.

The vet checked him and informed me that with a broken leg and a broken wing, there was no possibility of rehabilitation. I said thank you and walked out to Margo, crying.

Poor Harry (why the fuck do I name wild animals???).

I am grateful he was spared from the crows. I am grateful that his last hours were spent being loved and held. I am grateful that he passed humanely.

Rest In Peace my beautiful friend. I know that we will meet again. Soar high.


Food, Glorious Food …

Well. I love food. Not in a maniacal way, but if something tastes nice I fully appreciate it. Sometimes, too much.

I was just walking to our next session, after a predominantly processing day, and realised how heavy I feel today. I haven’t overeaten. Eggs and bread with fruit for breakfast, and a creamy mushroom fettuccine for lunch. A little while ago I had an orange. That’s it.

And, I feel heavy.

It’s the carbs. I’m convinced.

At home I have banned pasta. Here, unfortunately, as a vegetarian, I am at the mercy of others 😉. I have had a fair few meals with pasta. They have been nice tasting, but I have felt that my nutritional needs were not fully being met.

Courageously, yesterday, at lunch after another bowl of pasta, I asked what had been planned for dinner for the vegetarians. I was informed that it was a creamy mushroom pasta. I asked if it would be possible to ask the chef to make something vegetable based with protein. Yes.

Dinner was gorgeous. A roasted half capsicum filled with beans and quinoa on a bed of vegetables.

Best. Meal. Ever.

My body started to feel nourished and alive as the food and its nutrients were absorbed.

I went to the chef and thanked him with extreme gratitude.

What did I learn?

I am worth asking for what I need. I am worthy of nutritional foods. I am worthy …