Monthly Archives: October 2016

Impermanence and the Journey

Today’s lesson in impermanence:  I wake up in a different room, in a different city; a different car brought me here. I’m typing on a different computer.

I wake up and say good morning to a different dog. And I notice how being in a woman’s home is different than being in a man’s home.

Everything feels different today. The demarcation is pronounced: that life is now ended. Life has made itself abundantly clear.

In one way I’m nonplussed.  All of this doesn’t touch who I am.  The me that is far greater than Elizabeth’s body-mind experiences all of this as Life’s happenings and unfoldings; shifting, creating, dissolving. The stillness of me rests with this and watches while some amusement arises.

In another way I’m both sobered and excited. There’s quivering – lots of unknown. Brief (and occasionally longer) moments of fear show up and dissolve. There’s a bit of shock present.  The grief and confusion have passed, and I feel the impact of this huge life shift. I’m rebalancing. The separation from my friends– with whom I explored consciousness for four years – has the sense of a wound that is repairing and healing.

There is a force to my work. The unfolding of my business Conscious Communion is moving through me with powerful surges and the desire to create, manifest and explore.  This is the exciting part, and while unknown, it’s here now. It wants to happen and is happening, and this is exciting and fun and motivates and inspires me.


I’ll periodically miss my beloved Miata convertible that was flooded in a hurricane – especially on a warm and bright sunny day.  And I’ll periodically wish I had some particular piece of data from my melted down hard drive, I am sure.

In April of 2015 I knew I was moving to Georgia. Despite the fact that I refused to acknowledge or believe it for a long time, inside a part of me knew. And in October of 2016, I knew it was time to leave. Once again, I’m trusting the knowing. That has never failed me.

It seems distant now – how for many years I would have been very happy to know that my life would be over soon. I rarely had the urge to end it on my own, but when I did, that same knowing always said, “it’s not time.”

I never could have imagined the life that is in front of me today. Now that I’m starting to taste vibrant health and mental acuity again, I am able to imagine a future in which I’m thriving, rather than surviving – one in which ease, connection, working, and contentment are my experience.

And along with that, I take the poignant knowing that it’s all passing, all in transition, all fleeting.


Experience Life in the Moment of its Unfolding



You know that very cool thing that happens when we sit around the campfire, and get lost in the magic of the fire?  Sometimes, a different thing happens – we become immersed in each other, or in a story, and it seems compelling… we’re drawn into a shared space. It can feel amazing and beautiful.

We-Space – The New Paradigm

What is a we-space? It’s the campfire on steroids… it’s exponentially more potent because it’s a conscious space. It’s the field between/among two or more people which includes the people.  It’s the intangible, underlying essence of a group that one can sense.  We can experience that intentionally, simply by putting attention on it.

In this field, or space, the combined wisdom and creativity of those who are participating becomes enriched (by the other and the field) and accessible in a new way, as the awareness of those in the space opens into the infinite field of Being in a very particular way.  This shared consciousness offers a space of profundity and aliveness.

The we-space is a space of exploration.  It’s a place of not-knowing.  And it’s a place where one can access a deep wisdom that will show you what wants to be known next.  It’s not fortune-telling.  It’s experiencing Life in the moment of its unfolding, it’s awakening, and aware-ing.

Learning to listen to this space opens one up into a deeper awareness of their true nature, as well as bringing more joy and delight into experience.  Knowing the liminal space of “coming into existence” is knowing a source of infinite possibility and potential.

How do we access the we-space?

Simply by placing attention here, with no agenda, we can access the we-space.  This field of awareness is waiting for us. In my experience, it wants to be known, and it comes to us as we move towards it. By shifting perspective from me to we, one can be continually surprised and delighted by what emerges. Through this space we become aware of Life showing us what is unfolding right now.  And right now.  And right now.


What will I experience in a we-space?

Initially, an experienced explorer helps make the journey more accessible. And, you can’t do it alone – it’s a we-space. For some people it’s a profound healing place. For others it deepens access to a wider, broader consciousness and knowing.  For some it’s about the powerful human connection that happens.  For most people, all of these things can unfold.


Are you simply compelled to explore this?

I am. My entire life has been a quest for connection, love, and peace. Now that I know these things profoundly, life has shown me a path in which to share it – the we-space.

In a we-space, I get to hold unconditional acceptance for people, a very gentle, spacious loving field, which enables people to feel safe and free, often in a new way.

I’m especially familiar with loving trauma into wholeness, as well as the exploration of intimacy in all its forms.  Curious?  Step into the we-space with me.

As part of my launch, I’m offering a complementary we-space session, along with a 25% discount on my 2 short term session programs. Let me know if you’d like to work together! – I have a limited number of complementary sessions available next week.

Are You Sensitive to Light and Sound Too? Part 2 of 2


It doesn’t have to hurt so much.

Do you avoid concerts and movie theaters because of the  noise?  Do you stay away from parties? Do the lights of the city at night bother you?  That was me for much of my life. Now there are things that you can do so it’s not so painful.

Let me begin by saying that being very sensitive is a gift and a blessing, but most people in our society don’t know it yet, including people who live with it.

Several months ago I heard a podcast in which a physician spoke about sensitivity to lights and sounds while he was discussing nutritional deficiencies.  This was a watershed moment for me.  It was then that I realized that a lifetime of painful sensitivity was no longer necessary. I was completely unaware that there were simple steps I could take to reduce the suffering.

The doctor said (paraphrasing), “This is a situation of nutritional deficiency. There is no moral failing here.”  And in that moment I felt a 50 lb. weight had been lifted off my shoulders. For much of my life I felt ashamed and guilty for being so sensitive. Decades of shame dropped away as tears of relief flowed. There were physiological reasons for my lifelong pain, and what’s more, I could address it and heal.

The doctor was talking about autism and developmental problems that happen in children, but clearly he was also speaking about me and many other adults as well. I was never diagnosed with ADD, or autism. I just lived with being sensitive and suppressed it as best I could.  (This also led to self medicating/self regulating with marijuana, caffeine and alcohol starting around age 14.)

My Protocol

In the past several months I’ve been experimenting with dietary changes and supplement additions.  I’ve found that my sensitivity, while still finely honed, is no longer painful, and not a problem when my brain and body are properly nourished.

This became quite clear to me when I had an accidental extended toxic mold exposure a few weeks ago, and my sensitivity increased dramatically, and was quite painful by contrast to how I’d been feeling the days and weeks beforehand.

What resolved it was an intense protocol of glutathione, PQQ/CoQ10 (Unfair Advantage), chlorella, activated charcoal, and oxaloacetate.

Within 24 hours of realizing the mold exposure and starting the protocol I started to feel better, and within 72 hours, my sensitivity to lights, sounds, and life in general was down to manageable levels.

These particular products are not just for mold management. While the chlorella and charcoal chelate and absorb toxins and move them out, the other products – glutathione, PQQ and oxaloacetate are super-nutrients that have a targeted dramatic effect on the liver, heart and brain. Under times of stress, (physiological, emotional, psychological, etc.) these three nutrients can make a difference. I’ve noticed how I shift from “coping” to “normal” to “thriving” with use.

Sensitivity is okay!

The links in this article go to the Bulletproof website because these are the products I use and depend on, and that have literally saved my life. This is no exaggeration.  The company owner Dave Asprey is uncompromising about quality control with the supplements because of the health issues he’s overcome in his life.  In fact, these products are a direct result of the years of research he’s done to heal, and then hone, his body.

This week I saw a full page ad in Time Magazine that said in big letters, “I am very sensitive to lights and sounds.” At the bottom of the page it said in smaller font, “Sensory sensitivity is a sign of autism”. It was an advertisement for the group Autism Speaks. From my perspective, it’s good for awareness, but it’s also putting sensitivity into a box that is unnecessary and sends a message that sensitivity is not okay. Once we heal the painful aspects via toxin removal and optimized nutrition, the gifts that sensitivity brings are immeasurable.

If you’d like more info about my experience with sensitivity, these products or you have other questions about what I’ve learned on this 9 month health journey, I would love to hear from you in the comments below, or the contact form on my website, or by PM on Facebook.

Are You Sensitive to Sound and Light Too?


Today I walked along the Savannah River.  I usually avoid this because the highway traffic creates a noise and energy that are generally disturbing and uncomfortable.  This is too bad because it’s the one place near my house that has abundant nature to walk/jog/bike through.

Today as I walked closer and closer to the highway noise, I thought to myself, what if it’s okay?  What if it’s not painful? What if it doesn’t hurt? My body relaxed a little bit.

I’ve recently noticed that I don’t just hear sound. I feel sound.  I feel the vibrations and tones and places where it touches the body, including the organs, the bones, and what is sometimes called the energy body. Discordant or loud noise doesn’t just hurt my ears, it actually affects much more of my experience of being.

Today I was able to let the highway noise/energy be exactly as it was, and relax in it for a little while.  As I stood with my bare feet in the cool Savannah River, I felt the wind blowing gently on my body, and the bright sun, radiant and warm on my skin. Noticing the textures of the rocks under my feet, I experienced the highway noise as moving through my body, vibrating my cells – and for a little while, I became aligned within that frequency.

And then I was done. And I wanted to get out of there pretty darn quickly.  I headed back to the car.

What’s the Balance?

When I was feeling very sick about two months ago, I noticed that the noise of airplanes overhead was enough to deeply shake my state – to make me very uncomfortable.  When I felt physically better the next day, I didn’t even notice planes on the same flight path. Because of this, I’ve pondered the balance between honoring the exquisite sensitivity of this being (me) and relaxing into what’s previously been uncomfortable, even painful.

“Ow, that hurts!”

When I was about 6 years old, my family went to Florida on vacation. The first day we were there, the sky was a brilliant blue.  The sun shimmered on the water of the aquamarine swimming pool, glared off the white-painted cement, glistened off the sandy beach, and danced on the azure ocean.  I was incredibly uncomfortable.  It was way too bright for me. I couldn’t see and I had to keep my eyes closed. I was in pain.  In response to my attempt to get help, I was told to “stop being such a baby”, and “only grownups need sunglasses”.  I tried to play inside the condo, but was quickly thrown out… “it’s beautiful outside, go play by the pool or the beach”. Of course these were the hardest places to be.

I learned repeatedly that sensitivity is not acceptable, it’s inconvenient, and unwelcome. I think many people experience this type of response to their deep sensitivity. Much of society is still in the “toughen up and take it” phase – and while there’s certainly something to be said for that (at the right times) there’s also a place for recognizing, and embracing, keenly acute sensitivity.

Appreciating the Gifts

These days I’m welcoming my sensitivity, and noticing places where I turn away from it, suppress it, shut it down.  Doing so has enabled cultivation of its gifts – including fine discernment of subtle expressions, sword-like clarity, and heightened ability to precisely describe nuanced distinctions.

I’ve come to the understanding that noticing my resistance, and relaxing into it, may make some of what has been painful less so. This is most likely the case when the “contracting away from” sounds and light is due to habit and/or fear of the effect it will have, rather than being with what is happening in the moment.

The deeper level of acceptance of my own sensitivity, and the gifts it brings, is an ongoing journey.

And, that said, I’ll be posting soon about what I did when I was sick that made so much of a difference that I didn’t notice the planes the next day.  For me that was a big deal… Stay tuned for Part 2.