I really liked Torey.  He was this huge guy, probably 6’4”, muscular build, he was even sporting facial hair, which back then made him look much older than a high school student.  Many people in school called him a Dumb Giant and referred to him often as The Beast, but I saw a gentleness in Torey that belied his size.  We would talk often during class and pass notes to each other, and I remember sensing a great deal of sadness in Torey.  When I asked him what was wrong he never told me, but I knew he was haunted emotionally in some way.  Torey came to really like me and was really protective of me. If I ever had a problem with someone, Torey would go tell that person to leave me alone and I never had a problem with that person again.  He always had my back.  I felt completely safe around Torey.

Matt was a different story.  He was thin, wiry, and exuded a sleazy energy.  I didn’t like talking to him, sitting next to him, or interacting with him in any way.  He was arrogant, aggressive, and conniving.  Just a bad vibe all the way around.  I was glad he didn’t sit behind me because he gave me the creeps and I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate knowing he was staring at me during class.

What I didn’t know about either of these guys, however, was that by the end of 10th grade, both of them would be on trial for pre-meditated, first degree murder.

It happened a few months before the end of the school term.  Both Torey and Matt were absent for 5 days in a row.  I knew they sometimes ditched class, but not that many in a row.  Then I started hearing rumors that Torey and Matt had murdered someone and were evading police.  No.  Just a silly rumor started by stupid high school kids with nothing better to do than gossip.  Then I saw it on the news and couldn’t deny it was real any longer.  Torey and Matt had been arrested for the murder of Torey’s mother.  I was in shock.  Complete and utter shock!  It didn’t seem possible.  It took a while, but I eventually got the entire story.

During his entire childhood, Torey was the victim of physical and emotional abuse by his mother.  His mom was single, abused drugs and alcohol, and often sold herself to men for money.  Sometimes when Torey was a little boy, his mother would lock him in the car while she went into bars to pick up men who would pay her for sex, or who would accept sex in exchange for drugs.  Torey sometimes sat in the backseat while his mom had sex in the front seat with her men.  Even though Torey grew to a great size, he was completely cowed by his mother’s power over him. 

Torey had a little brother who was 8 years old at the time of the murder.  Torey loved his little brother desperately and often took beatings for him so the kid wouldn’t have to suffer like he had at that age.  There was no question that Torey was wrecked emotionally.  It didn’t matter that he could easily overpower his mother.  She had his spirit licked and broken.

Matt apparently knew about all the abuse and told Torey he should take matters into his own hands.  Torey revealed that his mother was planning to kick him out of the house when he turned 18, and that scared him because he would then be unable to protect his little brother.  Matt suggested to Torey that they kill Torey’s mom and try to make it look like an accident.  In desperation, Torey went along with the idea.  Their plan was to choke Torey’s mom in the middle of the night, put her in her car, send it down an embankment, and make sure it caught on fire, so the body would show no evidence of how she really died.  But they ran into some difficulty.

The night of the murder, Matt and Torey went into his mother’s room in the middle of the night.  Matt held a pillow over her face, while Torey climbed on top of her and wrapped his big hands around her neck and started choking her.  They did this for a while before she went limp.  Unbeknownst to them, she was only unconscious, not dead.  While they were preparing to get the body into the car, she woke up and started screaming bloody murder.  This woke Torey’s little brother who came to see what was going on.  Matt subdued the 8-year-old boy and tied him up with ropes and gagged him.  Meanwhile, Torey tackled his mother.  Matt ran and got a shovel from the fireplace and they used it to club her over the head until she was dead.  Brutal!

They put the mother’s body into her car, wrapped in the bloody sheets from the bed.  Their plan was for one of them to drive to the embankment while the other followed in another car.  Then they would push the car over the side, make sure it caught fire, and go home in the other car.  That was the plan before, but they quickly realized they had a little problem.  What to do with the little brother?  Matt said they had to kill him too since he was a witness.  That’s when Torey put his foot down and said that no way was he going to allow his little brother to be killed.  But Matt insisted it was the only way to keep them out of jail.  Torey put his protesting little brother into the trunk while Matt prepared the mother’s body.  Torey loosened the ropes that bound his kid brother and made sure the trunk wasn’t closed all the way.  He explained to the frightened child to wait until they pushed the car over the edge of the hill, then to climb out before it caught fire and hide in the brush until they were gone.  Thankfully, the terrified child somehow managed to escape and do just that.

Torey and Matt were caught by the police when the little brother told the cops everything he knew.  Torey and Matt were arrested quickly.  Torey was 17 but it was decided that since it was a pre-meditated murder, he would be tried as an adult.  Matt was 16 and was tried as a minor.  Matt turned on Torey and gave evidence against him in exchange for a much lighter sentence of 2 years in a Juvenile Detention Center.  It was found out later that Matt wasn’t even who he said he was.  He was already a wanted criminal in other states and had adopted an entirely new identity when he came to my high school.  After a lengthy trial where Torey’s little brother testified to the abuse and also testified to the fact that Torey killed his mother, Torey was given a sentence of 25 years to life in a maximum security prison.  He escaped the death penalty only because he saved his little brother from certain death.

I remember feeling like all of this was terribly wrong.  Yeah, he brutally murdered his mother and deserved to go to jail for that.  But Matt got off way too easy.  Torey wasn’t some hardened violent criminal who needed to be locked up for the good of society.  He was trying to rescue his little brother from an abusive life.  But he made a deal with the devil, and made a really bad choice, all because of Matt’s encouragement and planning.  If Torey had opened up to someone else, things could have gone differently.  I was sad for Torey.

After his arrest, Torey was spurned by everyone at school.  Only I and one other friend felt Torey didn’t deserve the severity of his punishment.  They just didn’t know him like we knew him.  My friend told me we were allowed to write to Torey and send him gifts, so we immediately sent him letters, books, and sweet treats to help him endure jail.  He wrote back to us often and told us the entire story of what happened, which is why I know so many of the details. He told us he was getting along okay in jail because he was a pretty big guy and most people assumed he was tough because he was in jail for pre-meditated murder so they left him alone.

The oddest thing about Torey was how happy he was.  He told us he finally felt free (ironically), because his mother couldn’t hurt him anymore.  And he was extremely happy that his brother had gotten away from the car and wouldn’t have to endure the abuse he suffered as a child.  To protect his brother, he killed his mother.  It was a sad story all the way around.

My friend and I continued to write to Torey and send him anything and everything we could think of to make his incarceration more bearable.  Torey was grateful for every communication and gift we sent him.  I remember him joking that he was glad he wouldn’t have to take the Geometry final. 

In class there were two empty seats: one in front of me and one behind me.  I remember people asking me questions like, “Are you freaked out that you were sitting between two murders for months?  Torey could have stabbed you in the back just for the hell of it!”

No.  They didn’t understand Torey.  But I did.  A lost, broken soul, doing everything he could to protect his baby brother from harm.  The murder was the decision of a desperate person.  I don’t think he deserves to spend the rest of his life in jail.  I believe true justice was lost in the letter of the law in Torey’s case.

I sometimes think of Torey and wonder how he’s getting along, if being in jail has hardened his gentle soul.  While I’ve gone on to have a wonderful life full of blessings and kindness and love, he’s been locked up, staring at gray walls and prison bars.  My mother made me stop writing to Torey when she found out I was regularly corresponding with a murderer.  Even she didn’t understand that I would never see Torey as a murderer.  He was my friend.  He was kind to me.  And he had my back.

That happened 25 years ago.  I wonder if Torey is free now.  I hope so.

© 2009 by Erin Pavlina.

I was at the mechanic’s shop getting my car repaired.  It was going to take a couple of hours so I decided to just sit in the waiting room and read a good book, a rare pleasure for me.  The television in the waiting room was on but I was tuning it out.  There was an elderly couple in the waiting room with me.  The husband was slouched in his seat, eyes closed, arms crossed, and it looked like he was doing his best to nap in a really uncomfortable chair.

His wife was yabbering on about what was happening on the television which was playing the game show, The Price is Right.  Everything coming out of the woman’s mouth was negative though.  “Oh that guy was so stupid, I could have gotten that question right.”  “That model has really fat thighs.  Look at them honey.”  Her husband would periodically crack an eye open, nod noncommittally and go back to napping.  She kept at it, even during commercials.  “That restaurant has the worst food. I would never eat there.”  “That car constantly breaks down.  Those people are crooks to sell those cars.”  I never heard one positive thing come out of her mouth.  Her mouth never stopped moving and nothing positive was coming out of it.

After a short while, one of the mechanics came in to get some coffee.  He was humming and smiling.  I perked up for a second and smiled at him.  He smiled back, stirred his coffee, and walked back to the shop area.  I went back to reading.  The elderly lady went back to casting insults at the people on the television who couldn’t even hear her, and her husband tried to slip away unnoticed into naptown.

Another 30 minutes passed and the mechanic came back into the waiting room.  This time he came in singing a loud, cheerful song.  I put my bookmark in my book and set it down on a chair.  The mechanic made eye contact with me and said, “Hey there, young miss.  How are you this fine day?”  I replied with a smile, “Quite well, thank you.  How about yourself?”  He said, “Oh it’s a good day and I’m feeling fine.”  He started singing again. 

The elderly man opened his eyes, sat up in his chair, and shook off his dazed look.  The mechanic said, “And how about you folks?  You doing alright?”  The elderly man nodded at the mechanic.  The woman crossed her arms and “hmphhed” in his general direction.  The mechanic shrugged and started singing again, then left to go back to his repairs.

Once he left the room I picked up my book and started reading again.  The elderly man said, “Nice fellow that guy was.”  The elderly woman said, “I found it really annoying that he was singing.  He’s not being paid to sing, he’s being paid to fix our car.  He should get back to it and stop messing around.”  The elderly man said, “Yes, dear” and went back to sleep.

After another short while, the mechanic came back, and yes, he was singing.  Only this time he was singing loudly and dramatically, with gestures, like he was in a Broadway play.  He wore a huge smile on his face and started dancing around a little too.  I was terribly amused.  The elderly man sat up in his seat and was openly smiling.  The elderly woman seemed stunned.  At first it seemed like she was going to say something nasty, but then she just shut her mouth and stared at the mechanic in apparent shock.  The mechanic kept singing and as he got to the end of his song, he knelt down right in front of the lady, held his arms out to her like he wanted to hug her, and finished his song.  The woman looked embarrassed, but after a moment her face cracked and she broke into a smile.  I could actually see tension leave her body as she relaxed into her new feeling.  The mechanic stood up and said, “What a beautiful smile you’ve got there.  Makes you glow!”  Now she was really smiling.  She reached out and touched him on the arm.  I thought it was a lovely connecting gesture.  The mechanic smiled and started whistling as he left the waiting room and went back to the shop.

I said to the couple, “That was fun!”  The elderly man said, “I like that guy.  He’s got something special.”  We both looked at the woman.  She said, “I suppose if you have to sit in a waiting room then having someone singing at you isn’t too bad.”  I think that was the closest she was going to get to a compliment.  I noticed after this little exchange that she stopped making negative comments about the people on the television.  She just grabbed a magazine and started reading it quietly.  After just a few minutes, she started humming.  I don’t even think she realized it.  And I’m sure she didn’t notice the smile tickling the corners of her mouth. 

What could you do to raise someone’s vibration today?  Look around for someone in your office, school, community, or home who could use a little pick-me-up.  Don’t say a word, just start singing or humming around them and see what happens.  Hold your vibration, don’t let them bring you down.  You can raise the energy of a room simply by being in a high vibrational state.  Try it today and see.

© 2009 by Erin Pavlina.

First let’s make a list of the people in your life so we can identify the fangsters.  Start with the people you interact with on a daily basis, then a weekly basis, then on occasion, and so forth.  Next to those names you’ll have three columns.  First column reads “uplifts me.”  Second column reads, “neutral.”  And the third column reads, “drains me.”  Then get busy putting check marks in the appropriate column for each person on your list.  If you’re having trouble figuring out which column they belong in, think about your last interaction with them and ask yourself if you felt better, the same or worse after that interaction. 

Once your list is done take a long hard look at it and see who you’re hanging out with.  Any vamps?  Yes?  Let’s see about neutralizing their power.  I know what you’re going to say… “But some of these vamps are my friends, my family, my BOSS!  How am I supposed to just get rid of them?”  You have three options on how to deal with an energy vampire, including how to handle it when escape seems impossible.

First, figure out if you could cut the person out of your life.  If it’s a friend, write him a letter letting him know you simply can’t be friends with him anymore as you no longer like the person you become when you’re with him.  It’s hard, yeah, but keeping these people in your life is going to drain you dry.  It’s not worth it.  Once you kick them out of your life, new more upbeat friends will fill the gap.  If it’s a boss, find another job with someone you’d prefer working with.  I know, this may take time.  So take the time.  It’s your life, your power, make a change!  If the vamp is a relative, begin curtailing your contact with them.  If the relationship is seriously abusive consider cutting them out of your life completely.  There’s no law that says you have to be friends with your family.

Second, if you can’t cut them out of your life you’ve got to learn to shield against their attacks.  Never go into an interaction with the vampire until your shields are up and your emotional armor is on.  How do you do this?  First, acknowledge what’s about to happen.  “I’m going to my mom’s house, she’s going to complain about how short my hair is.”  Or “My boss is going to denigrate me in front of my staff at today’s meeting.  He always does.”  Then, prepare your response ahead of time.  “If my mom complains about my hair, I won’t defend my choice.  I’ll just let her talk herself out or change the subject.”  “If my boss complains about my performance I’ll just make a joke and deflect the negative energy.”  This is also called, “Don’t let anyone get under my skin.”  Do not sink to their level.  Let their attack hit your shield and bounce off.  Do not let them make you emotionally bleed.

Third, try to uplift the vampire to a higher vibration.  Also known as “sprinkling some fairy dust on their heads so they stop being schmucks.”    This is difficult, but it can be done.  The next time an energy vampire attacks you, try responding with love, kindness, compassion or empathy.  They hate that; takes the wind right out of their sails. “Mom, you know I still love you even when you complain about my appearance, right?”  Or “Mom, it seems like when you complain about my hair you want me to feel bad about how I make decisions in life.  Is that your intent?  To make me feel bad?”  Sometimes holding up a mirror to the vamp is enough to conquer them.  If it’s your boss, you could take him aside and say, “It seems as if during our staff meetings you often say something denigrating about me in front of everyone.  I’ll tell ya, that doesn’t feel too good, and I was wondering if you were going to continue doing that or not?”  If your friend is bringing you down and you haven’t cut her loose, say, “Girlfriend, blaming others for the problems in your life isn’t going to solve them.  Why don’t you sit down with me one day and let’s have a long talk about how we might actually pull your life together and get you to a happier place.  I really care about you and I’d rather see you happy than complaining all the time.  What do you say?” 

Energy vampires only have power if you give them power.  If you can’t stand up to a vampire, if you can’t cut their energy out of your life, or if you can’t uplift them to a new place, you’re going to suffer greatly under the onslaught of their darkness.  You’ll find your own self esteem falling, you’ll stop feeling empowered in areas where you used to feel great, and eventually you’ll be a puddle of emotional jelly and everyone will step on you.  If you need help staving off the advances of an energy vampire, ask a high vibration friend to help you.  Set up an intervention on the vamp.  Be honest and clear about what they do to others, maybe they don’t realize it. 

Work on your list until at least 90% of the people on it are in the uplift or neutral column.  Don’t suffer the energy vampires.  You’re not obligated to be their punching bag.  You can’t rescue someone who is drowning by jumping into the water with them.  They’ll just pull you down too.  Throw them a life preserver, encourage them to grab it, offer to pull them to shore, but do not let them pull you down.

And whatever you do, don’t feed them after midnight.

© 2009 by Erin Pavlina.

***

There were 33 of us in the first group.  We had been summoned.  It was with excitement and a measure of trepidation that I and my companions entered the Great Hall.  What did God want to tell us?  What task were we to be assigned?  What quest was there to engage?

We gathered in the Hall and waited.  I recognized all of my companions.  We shared knowing and reassuring smiles.  And then His presence filled the Hall.  Love and warmth magnified to infinity bathed us all.

“It is time to return,” God said.

There was a murmur in the group.  I sensed many were reticent to return.  I know I was.  I could also sense excitement and hope from others.  Someone spoke.

“Why now?”

God said, “Because they’ve forgotten Love.”

“How are we supposed to remind them?  Their hearts are closed.”

God replied, “What is closed may be open.  You know the way.”

“We are guiding from here, isn’t that a better place for us to help them remember?” someone responded.

“You must show them the frequency so they can hear it again,” God said. “They’ve forgotten Love.  They are listening to fear.”

I said, “When we incarnate we too forget Love.  It is too hard to bear.  This causes great anxiety and despair to be disconnected so.”

God said, “That is the way of the Lightworker.  You will remember in time, and then you will remind others of what they’ve forgotten.   I would not ask this of you if it was not of great importance.  Others will follow to help you, and still others are already there to remind you of what you already know.  You will be cared for.”

“Is there really a way for us to bring the people and the planet back to love?”

God said, “Yes.  Remind them of what they’ve forgotten.  Resonate at the frequency of unconditional love.  There is nothing more you need to say or do.  It will be enough.  Wake them to the frequency.  Show them the way back to Love.”

And then God said, “I have great faith in all of you.  You have my Love.  Please take it with you and show anyone who has forgotten.  There is too much fear in the world.  Be the light that cuts through the darkness and fear, and show them the way Home.  Remember, I am with you, always.”

God stepped out of the Great Hall.  I and my companions formed a circle and held hands.  We held tight to each other and someone said, “We will go forth with courage and compassion.”

Another said, “We will not forget our Way.”

“We will remind people of the Love they’ve forgotten.”

“We will overcome our own fear of disconnection.”

“We will support each other and work together.”

“We will carry only the frequency of love in our hearts.”

“We will love unconditionally.”

“We will remember when the time is right.”

“We will stand against fear wherever it is prevalent.”

“We will not judge those who have forgotten the light.”

“We will bring comfort to those who suffer.”

“We will have faith.”

We went around the entire circle this way.  I gazed into the eyes of my fellow lightworkers and vowed to remember as soon as I could so that I could help guide the planet back to Love.  I knew there would be challenges to my faith.  I knew there would be times I felt alone, and times I would feel so overwhelmed that I would cease to care what happened to others, but I resolved to get past those feelings and remember why I was there.   I would seek out the support of other Lightworkers who could empathize with my plight.  I took great solace in knowing that no matter what happened, I was loved, and would someday return Home.  I knew that my journey would be safe, even if it was uncomfortable.  And I vowed that my time there would make a measureable difference.

We headed out of the Great Hall to make our preparations.  There were Guides to recruit, parents to pick, plans to be made.  I carried in my heart all of God’s Love.  Yes, with this Love I could help them remember what they’d forgotten.  I was ready.

© 2009 by Erin Pavlina.

Whenever something really cool happened to Melissa I remember saying in my mind, “I wish I was Melissa.  Her life is so much better than mine.”  These thoughts continued for a long time and repeated every time Melissa was happy or excited and I wasn’t.  Then one day something different happened.  Melissa came to school excited because she and her family were going to take a road trip to the Grand Canyon.  Instantly, the green-eyed monster of jealousy reared her ugly head, “Darnit, I wish I was Melissa!”  But this time a voice in the back of my mind replied and said, “No you don’t.  You wish you were going to the Grand Canyon.  There’s a difference.”  Pardon me? I thought.  Who’s talking?

I continued my dialogue with this new voice.  “But Melissa is so lucky.  Her parents take her everywhere!”  The voice said, “You didn’t think Melissa was so lucky when her mom cancelled trick-or-treating because she hurt her little sister.”  “True,” I conceded, “that really sucked for her.” 

The voice continued, “You didn’t wish you were Melissa when you found out her mom makes her go to bed at 9pm and you get to stay up until 10pm.”  “That’s true too,” I thought back.

Then the voice said, “Melissa’s life is no more perfect than yours.  Stop desiring to be her and simply acknowledge that sometimes Melissa is going to enjoy things that you don’t get to do or have.  Why don’t you just be happy for her?”

I silenced the voice at that point.  It was starting to bug me because it was starting to make sense.  The next time something great happened to Melissa I didn’t have the same ugly reaction.  Instead of wanting to be Melissa, I was able to just tap into my real feelings.  “Melissa must be really excited.  I would be really excited if that was happening to me.”  And I could leave it at that.  I wasn’t at the point where I could be truly happy that Melissa was getting something I wasn’t, but at least I was at a point of understanding and empathizing with her excitement.

As I got older and more aware I started to tap into the feeling that we are all One.  We’re all connected, we’re all part of the same body of humanity.  We’re all pieces of Consciousness.  This brought on feelings of connection, empathy, love, and compassion with all living things on Earth.  When someone was in pain, I felt sad.  When someone was excited, I felt happy.  It was easy for me to tap into a person’s energy and feel what they were feeling.  I started to really appreciate all the experiences other people were having that I wasn’t able to have.  I began to see other people as pieces to a vast puzzle of which I was just a small but integral part. Whenever I encountered someone I would think, “Ah, there goes the piece of me that is a male high school football player.  And over there is the piece of me who is having the experience of being a cheerleader.  And the other day I ran into the part of me that is living homeless on the street.”  I began to feel great compassion for the pieces of me that were obviously suffering, and I began to feel great excitement for the pieces of me who were millionaires or celebrities or highly successful.  But the thing is I felt like they were all part of me.  Their success was my success.  Their suffering was my suffering.

Once this shift happened I was able to feel completely and totally happy for other people’s joys even when I wasn’t experiencing them in my own life.  And I also felt complete and total compassion for those who were suffering when I wasn’t.  When a friend would share good news, I could honestly feel happy for them.  The jealousy wasn’t there.  It would be silly to feel jealous of yourself right?  And that’s how I thought of everyone … as pieces of me.  I can’t possibly experience every single thing that life has to offer.  I’ll never have grown up in Poland.  I’ll never have been a little boy.  But out there, other people have, and I can share their experience through my sense of Oneness.

Today I don’t have to say, “Darnit, I wish I was Melissa” because I’ve learned that I am Melissa.  Some part of me went to the Grand Canyon on a road trip when I was a kid. 

When you feel jealous of other people’s successes you’re just disconnecting from the collective consciousness.  Share in their joy instead.  And when something bad happens to someone else and you think, “Thank God that wasn’t me,” stop yourself, because it was you.  Send compassion and love to those around you who are suffering, as you would want them to do for you.

When you are comfortable with who you are and what you have, you’ll stop being jealous of others’ successes and rewards.  I have some friends who are genuinely happy for me when I share good news, and I have other friends who get quiet and can’t even muster an “oh, goodie goodie gum drops for you.”  It’s not the news itself that causes this reaction, otherwise I’d get the same reaction from everyone.  Invariably, the people who aren’t happy with their lives just can’t seem to be happy for me when something great happens, and the people who are happy with who they are and what they have are always excited for me.  Which kind of friends do you have?

More importantly, which type of friend are you?

© 2009 by Erin Pavlina.

Meeting Bryan
I met Bryan in junior high school around the age of 14.  When I met him he was already in a dark place, but I didn’t know it.  I knew his parents were divorced, but that’s all I knew.  I was attracted to his intellect, his love of all things sci-fi and fantasy, and he was really cute to boot.  My girlfriends and I hung out with him and his male friends, sort of a group thing.  Nothing much happened.  At graduation from junior high we went our separate ways.  He went to a different high school than I did and I figured I’d seen the last of him.

Char’s Prediction
When I was 15 I had a psychic reading with Char.  She came up with his name, including the fact that he spelled it with a “y” instead of an “I” and told me to watch out for him, that he would lead me down a dark path, not get along with my family, and that he was bad news.  I assured her that that was the past she was picking up on, not the future.  She seemed dubious, but what could she say really?  She’d given me her warning and I discounted it completely.

Sweet 16 Party
I had an awesome Sweet 16 birthday party.  Best party ever!  Instead of everyone going home at a reasonable hour, we all decided to pile into some cars and go carousing all night long.  No parental knowledge or supervision within miles!  At one point we hooked up with an old friend, named John, who mentioned he was just hanging out at a pizza parlor.  So we high-tailed it over to meet up with him.  Who was sitting with him?  Bryan.  At age 16 he was incredibly handsome, chiseled features, muscular build, he actually looked a lot like Matt Damon.  And I was on this incredible high from it being my party night.  I was quite flirtatious with him, enjoying being the center of attention.  I gave Bryan my phone number and told him to call me sometime.  Now that we were all 16 the distance between our homes was no big deal.  Bryan lived a 30 minute drive away from me.  At age 14, that’s too far to get your mom to drive you.  At age 16 with a driver’s license, that’s nothing!

A Slow Start
Bryan came back into my life.  I found out soon enough that he didn’t have his license.  Bryan would often ride his bike to my house, which would take him like an hour and a half!  Sometimes he was hanging out with John, who lived much closer to me.  There was a group of us, we’d all hang out, boys and girls alike.  We’d stay up all night talking about life, the universe, and everything.  All of us were smart, a little weird, and very open-minded.  Good group.  Bryan started putting the moves on me, just like I wanted, but apparently I was going a little too slow for him.  When I tried to put the brakes on a little, he gravitated to my best friend who was more than eager for a shot at this handsome hunk.  Before I knew it, she was doing things with him that I was only dreaming about.  I felt terribly jealous.  Going against my own instincts, I fought to win him back, and back he came.  Now that I had him, what was I going to do with him?

Darkness Reveals Itself
I turned 17 shortly after Bryan and I officially started dating.  Around this time I started to notice Bryan’s dark side.  He was angry all the time.  He was vain.  If his hair wasn’t perfect he wouldn’t leave his house, cancelling plans if necessary.  We argued a lot.  He never had any money, but I did, so I often paid his way to the movies and bought him dinner and gifts.  I thought I was making life easier for him, but in reality this made him feel ashamed of his lack of money.  He lived with his father, but I was never allowed to go inside his house.  He was ashamed of that too.  He lived in sort of a bad neighborhood so I never really pressed to hang out there anyway.  Plenty to do in my neck of the woods.  At this point in time I didn’t understand the depths of Bryan’s dark side.  I sort of felt sorry for him, though I think that just made things worse.  And I started to see evidence of violence.  He would throw things at the wall.  He would push me around a little when he was upset with me.  He was always brandishing his fists at me like he had to hold himself back from hitting me.

He wasn’t all dark though.  I was still totally attracted to his intellect, his creativity, his open-mindedness, and his love of role playing games (like Dungeons and Dragons).  We got along swimmingly when he wasn’t mad at me.  He was fiercely loving towards me, almost possessive.  At the time I thought it was cool.

The Rape
Bryan wanted to have sex and I didn’t.  I just wasn’t ready.  I figured I would be at some point.  I liked kissing him and making out a little.  He was already sexually experienced thanks to a single mom on his block who took it upon herself to deflower all the cute teenagers nearby.  He was getting tired of waiting for me to be ready while I demanded he be loyal only to me.  One night I was driving him back to his house and he was drinking beer in the car.  This was beer he was supposed to be bringing home to his father (long story, don’t ask), but he decided to drink the whole six pack on the way home.

When we got to his house he told me to pull into the alley around the back so we could make out a little.  It was late and I wanted to go home, but he insisted and I hated to say no because it would lead to a horrible argument.  To avoid that, I agreed.  So there we were, sitting in my car, in a dark alley, when Bryan said he was tired of waiting for me to be ready and wanted to have sex right there and then, in the car.  I protested saying that was not how I wanted to lose my virginity!  How horribly unromantic.  He started to get angry and I got really uncomfortable.  He got more aggressive and insistent, pulling down his pants to show me the goods.  But with all the alcohol in his system he seemed to be having a hard time getting an erection.  I laughed at him.  That was my fatal mistake.  Above all else, Bryan hated appearing foolish in any way, shape or form.  If you made fun of Bryan you were as good as dead.  Before I knew what was happening, he punched me really hard across the face.  I saw a blue spark of electricity upon impact, and then darkness.  As I came to, I noticed three things at roughly the same time.  First, I couldn’t move my arms at all.  My head was lolled to the side and I couldn’t move it.  Second, I noticed I was crying, that there were tears streaming down my face. And third, Bryan was having sex with me.  I tried so hard to move, but it was like the electrical system in my body was shorted out.  I couldn’t lift my arms or speak.  I could only lay there waiting for it to be over.  It didn’t take long.  He ejaculated.  That seemed to calm him right down.  As the moments passed, my brain was booting up, and I was finally able to move again.  I was so dazed, I don’t think I could even form a sentence.  I remember looking at him and he actually looked remorseful.  But that didn’t last.  He pulled up his pants, patted me on the head, opened the car door, said, “I love you.  I’ll see you tomorrow” and hopped the fence into his backyard, and off he went.

My thought at that moment was, “What the hell just happened to me?”  I was sitting there alone trying to piece together what happened.  This is the part that’s going to sound crazy.  I wasn’t sure if I’d been raped or not.  Back in those days there was no date rape.  No one was talking about rape much at all.  There was no discussion of domestic violence back then either.  My only thought was, “Shoot, I shouldn’t have angered him so much.  Look what happened.  I’d better be more careful next time.”  My other thought was that he didn’t seem to think he’d done anything wrong, otherwise why would he tell me he loved me, pat me on the head, and take off like nothing bad had happened?

I pulled myself together, got into the driver’s seat, and drove slowly home.  By the time I got home I felt something odd going on down there.  When I looked, there was blood and semen pooled in my underwear.  I snuck into my house, hoping everyone was asleep, and took a shower.  There was a red mark on my face where he’d punched me.  I cried myself to sleep, unsure what tomorrow would bring.  I felt ashamed and humiliated.  I retreated into a shell, broken.

Classic Abusive Relationship Coming Right Up
The day after the rape he acted like nothing had happened so I just decided to forget about it.  I didn’t want to be a rape victim and deal with all of that so I rationalized it all away.  I stayed with Bryan for three and a half years.  Yes, you read that right.  For three and a half years, I was part of a violent, sexually and emotionally abusive relationship.  I learned what his triggers were and made sure I didn’t trigger him.  He was always careful not to hit me in places that would show the bruises.  He went to work on my self esteem, telling me I was no good and no one else would want me.  He isolated me from all my friends, until the only friends we had left were his.  He was possessive, jealous, and angry all the time.  He often accused me of sleeping with other people, though I never did because frankly, sex disgusted me so why would I want to have sex with anyone?  We continued to have sex very regularly, sometimes three times per day.  During sex I would just tune him out.  He was usually done in a minute or so.  My pleasure was never his concern.  I just wanted it to be over asap.  If I ever tried to refuse having sex with him he would either argue me into submission or just pull me into the bedroom and have at it.  Did I mention how muscular he was?  I was never a match for his physical strength.

But I had a few things going for me.  First, he was so conciliatory after hurting me, that he actually handed all the power back to me for a short while.  I would use this mercilessly to get him to do what I wanted.  This was not healthy, but it was the only time I had power in the relationship.  Second, I made all the money and he made none, so he was dependent on me financially.  This gave me some control since if he wanted anything he had to ask me for it.  I would use that to keep him in line sometimes.  And third, we lived in separate homes, so when necessary I could stay away from him for a little while. 

None of my family knew what was happening, but none of my family liked Bryan too much.  We were good at hiding our situation.  I thought this was how all relationships were.  My friends noticed he would sometimes punch me in the arm, but I would act like it was no big deal and they would keep quiet.  None of my friends ever wanted to challenge Bryan because his fists usually did the talking for him.  I would sometimes think about breaking up with Bryan but whenever I brought it up he would cry and get so upset, and he’d tell me he couldn’t live without me.  In fact, it got to the point where he told me if I ever tried to leave him, he would kill me and my family, and then kill himself.  I believed him.  He had no less than a dozen weapons in his possession from knives, to crossbows, and even a gun.

The Bright Side of Bryan
If things were all bad all the time, I surely would have left him.  But there was another side to Bryan.  He was very protective of me.  No one could hurt me but him.  If anyone gave me any kind of problem in life, Bryan would handle it.  He argued with my parents a lot.  They eventually banned me from seeing him, but that didn’t help as it only meant I had to sneak out of the house to see him.  I knew my parents wouldn’t kill me for doing that, and I felt Bryan might kill me if I didn’t.  There were times when Bryan put his own life in danger to protect me.  Uh, usually the danger was because Bryan was picking a fight with someone, or we were somewhere sort of seedy, but he was still willing to take a knife in the gut to protect me.

Bryan was exceptionally intelligent.  He blew me out of the water when it came to grades and studying, and I was no slouch!  His teachers loved him.  He was a prized pupil.  I loved role playing with Bryan and our friends.  We’d spend hours upon hours at a time just role playing.  As long as we were around other people, Bryan acted the part of a good boyfriend.  It was only when we were alone and fighting that things turned ugly.  I learned to just deal with it, afraid to break up with him.  I had such low self esteem, and I figured I was lucky to have a guy in my life at all.  Even though he was very possessive, I took this as a sign of devotion.

The Sorority
Bryan and I both went to the same college.  During my sophomore year I wanted to join the sorority that my twin sister had joined.  Bryan didn’t want me to be in a sorority because he felt it would take time away from him.  But I really wanted to do it so he relented (yes I had to get his permission to do almost everything).  He warned me, however, that if I got so involved with my sorority that I started to neglect him that I would have to quit.  I became my pledge class president, and I thought he’d be angry but he actually seemed proud of me.  What he didn’t realize was that the sorority would eventually lead to the escape of his most prized possession: me. 

There was a girl in my sorority who apparently was in an abusive relationship of her own.  We discovered each other’s secret one night when we double dated.  She asked me if my boyfriend hit me and I found out that hers hit her.  We commiserated together.  It was the first time I ever found someone in the same boat as me.  One day she came to me and told me she’d left her abusive boyfriend and that I should leave mine.  She explained what an abusive relationship was, because at this point I still had no idea I was even in one.  I got so angry at her.  It was like I was sitting in a jail cell with her, happy for the company, and she got up and tried the door only to find it unlocked.  She left our happy, safe little cell and encouraged me to leave too.  But I was too afraid.  So I pushed her out of my life and pretended she didn’t exist.  But it nagged at me.  This idea that you could leave the relationship was alien to me. 

The more time and energy I put into the sorority, the more power, courage, and authority I started to have.  My self esteem improved.  I took on officer positions and got things done.  People encouraged me, people praised me, and I started to find my will again.  Bryan started noticing that I would back talk more often, that I wasn’t in line anymore, and he started to hate the sorority.

The Ultimatum
Finally things were coming to a head.  One weekend, our sorority Rush weekend, I told Bryan I couldn’t see him at all because there were going to be tons and tons of parties.  From Friday to Monday I was going to be 100% committed to the sorority Rush events.  He said, “But I need you to drive me and Brandon to the opening of a new movie on Saturday.” (I was his ride everywhere he needed to go).  I told him I couldn’t take him and his friend to a movie because I would be fined $50 for every party I missed and to find his own ride or take the frakkin’ bus.  He said, “I don’t give a damn how much it costs you.  I want to see this movie on this day and time and you’re going to take me.”  I protested, “But there are 8 parties, so that’s $400 I’ll have to pay if I take you to a movie you can see any other day.  Is that what you want me to do?”  He said, “Make your choice.  It’s the sorority or me.”  He hung up on me, confident I would choose him, as I had always done in the past.  I spent the entire night awake trying to figure out what to do.  The biggest internal battle raged inside me.  I thought he was being completely unreasonable in his request.  I kept remembering his threats to kill me and my family if I ever broke up with him.  I cried, I freaked out, I didn’t want to let my sorority sisters down.  But denying Bryan his request would be inviting certain death.  What to do?

Finally I made my decision.  I called him at 5:30 in the morning because I couldn’t wait another minute.  He got groggily on the phone.  I said, “Bryan, I never want to see you again.”  He said, “What?”  I repeated, “I never want to see you again.  I’d rather be dead than spend another minute with you.”  I waited for the tirade.  I was actually prepared to die if I had to.  I was done.  He tried pleading with me, threatening me, and reasoning with me, but my decision had been made and I knew I wouldn’t change my mind.  He threatened to kill me and I told him that if he felt that strongly about it, to go right ahead.  Inside I flinched, but I stayed strong.  To everything he said, I simply replied, “I never want to see you again.”  It was like stabbing him in the heart with a dagger.  Eventually I had to tell him our phone call was over and hung up on him.  I immediately broke down crying, but I was happy.  I was free.  No matter what he did to me now, I would die free if that’s what it came to.

I called his friends and told them we broke up and asked them to please not pick Bryan up and bring him to my house.  I went to my sorority event, a total wreck from being up all night crying, and I came home watchful.  I looked over my shoulder for days, and then weeks.  He never came by.  He didn’t try to call me.  I thought maybe I was going to make it through the break-up unscathed.

The Letter
One day a letter arrived in the mail.  My mom intercepted it and read it.  Big mistake.  It was 27 pages of Bryan ranting and raving at me.  It started off with begging.  “Please come back to me.  I promise I’ll treat you better.”  And segued into “You god damn bitch.  Who do you think you are for leaving me?  If I can’t have you, no one will!”  My mom of course got really upset when she read this.  I assured her it was some prank and that Bryan wasn’t going to come and kill us all in our sleep, as he’d threatened in the letter.  But I was a nervous wreck wondering when I’d be on the receiving end of his knife or gun. 

Healing
I healed.  I slowly got my life back together.  One thing that helped me tremendously was finding out that Bryan had been cheating on me much of the time we were together.  I had no idea!  When we broke up, he went to her immediately, and found solace in her arms.  I think that girl saved my life, actually.  He had someone else lined up in case things went south with me.  I was so grateful he’d been cheating on me.  Crazy as that sounds.  I was 20 years old when I left Bryan.  By the time I was 23 I had found my personal power, confidence, and strength.  I’d dated a few guys, but nothing terribly serious.  And I met Steve.  Over the years, Steve helped me heal the damage my relationship with Bryan had done.  I had sexual hang ups, anxiety, and control issues.  I used to have dreams that Bryan would sneak into my home and kill me and my husband and children.  Steve patiently helped me deal with the aftermath of the abusive relationship, and he helped me understand how I ended up spending three and a half years with an abusive boyfriend.

The Understanding
It took me years but I finally understood what happened.  The piece of information I’ve yet to reveal is about Bryan’s mother.  When Bryan was a young boy, I think he was 9 if I remember correctly, his mom left home with Bryan’s sister, in the middle of the night.  Imagine it.  Imagine your mom taking off with only your sister and not you, in the middle of the night, without saying good bye.  That crushed his spirit.  He must have been wondering what was so terrible about him that his own mother would leave him behind and take only his sister with her.  For many years he had no contact with his mother, so angry was he at her.  Bryan suffered from extreme abandonment issues.  This is why he clung so possessively to me, why he threatened to kill me and kill himself if I ever left him, and why he had other women lined up in case I should leave him.

I came to a point in my adult life where I completely understood how Bryan and I ended up in an abusive situation.  He was angry and afraid, which led to the violence. He couldn’t bear to be left by someone who loved him.  He did what he had to to keep his relationship with me secure.  He used control, violence, emotional manipulation, and sometimes even devotion, loyalty, and love.  And I stayed in the relationship because I had low self esteem, I was a rescuer, and couldn’t imagine abandoning someone in pain.  We were a total vibrational match for that relationship.

Forgiveness
Steve helped me understand that it takes two people making a choice to be in an abusive relationship.  Initially I blamed Bryan for everything.  Then I blamed myself for staying with him when I had the choice to leave any time I wanted.  I was all for giving up control of my life to someone else, and Bryan was a perfect match to take control of my life and my will.  Eventually I came to realize that we were both young and inexperienced.  I couldn’t rescue him and he couldn’t overcome his feelings of anger and abandonment.  He needed professional help but got none.  I went through a process of forgiving Bryan for everything that happened between us.  I no longer blamed either of us.  I just had understanding.  Then came the compassion for the little boy whose mom abandoned him in the middle of the night and went off and created new children without him.  His father also remarried and had new children.  Bryan had no one.

Getting Closure
In my 20’s I had a chance contact with Bryan, thanks to some mutual friends who were discussing me with him one night at dinner.  On the phone with me he admitted to raping me and apologized sincerely for it.  That he even admitted it was a big part of my healing.  In my early 30’s I thought about contacting Bryan to tell him that I had forgiven him for everything and to show him I understood why things went down the way they went down.  I knew he lived in Portland, but I couldn’t find any contact information for him anywhere.  I figured that one day we would eventually have our conversation.  But that wasn’t to be.

Death Comes Marching In
In February of this year an old friend contacted me to ask if I’d heard the news.  Bryan had killed himself during a police stand-off.   Here is the short version of the story as it was relayed to me.  After we broke up, Bryan went to graduate school and became a social worker who did wonderful things with war veterans related to post traumatic stress disorder.  He fell in love with a woman who had three children and married her.  He helped her fight to get sole custody of her children.  This put him in significant debt.  He decided he wanted to leave his job and go become a fiction writer (something I think he would have been enormously successful doing).  But the stress of debt and the custody battle, and possibly some depression, caused him to check himself into a mental institution for a little while.  When he left after a few weeks he was just getting back on his feet.  His wife was on her way to the pharmacy to pick up medication for him after speaking to someone on a mental health line.  The mental health line worker decided to initiate a suicide check, so police were dispatched to Bryan’s home to “check on him.”  Bryan wasn’t a big fan of the police.  He was really into survival, so he was always prepared in case he needed to survive after a nuclear war or to run from the police.  So when the police arrived he got upset, afraid, and angry when they wouldn’t leave.  He barricaded himself in his house, got out one of his rifles, and trained it out the window towards the cops. 

The cops decided they had a “gunman” on their hands, cleared the street, and called the SWAT team.  Bryan called his wife who was on her way home.  She tried to calm him down, but the police took the phone away from her, shoved her in the back of a police car, and refused to let her try to talk him down.  This agitated Bryan even more.  He held his position for 8 hours, and finally gave up, shooting himself and ending his tumultuous life.  He was 39 years old.

Coping With Bryan’s Death
When I heard the news I became very sad.  He didn’t deserve that kind of end.  All he wanted was to be loved, unconditionally, by someone who cared about him.  I couldn’t even imagine what kind of fear he was feeling during the 8 hours he was alone, isolated, and holed up in his house.  He probably figured he was going to jail no matter what, since he’d pulled a gun on the cops.  At the very least, they’d probably commit him to an institution for treatment or monitoring.  You never wanted to back Bryan into a corner.  He’d take the extreme way out if he had to.

I’ve sat with this news for weeks.  I spoke to our old friend, John, who helped me put together many of the pieces of Bryan’s final years on Earth.  I’m told Bryan received awards and accolades for his work with war veterans.  His memorial service brought more than 100 people to his side, eulogizing him for the caring, compassionate person he’d been to them.  I’d like to think Bryan finally found love in his life.

The Afterlife
So the first thing on my mind was trying to connect with Bryan on the other side to see how he was doing.  In the case of suicide I sometimes find people who go to a very dark place and rehash their suicide over and over again.  But I couldn’t find him.  I know other mediums have mentioned that when people close to them die it can take months or even years to get communication.  I think it’s hard when you’re so close.  But I kept my antenna attuned for Bryan.

Yesterday I finally had the communication from him that I’d been seeking.  He is definitely in a good place mentally.  He radiated wisdom, understanding, compassion, and a little bit of chagrin.  He is whole again, totally reintegrated with his higher self.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in such a state of peace.  We talked about our relationship.  He told me that I probably saved his life back then because I gave him love so unconditionally.  No, it wasn’t a healthy love, but he told me I probably saved him from committing suicide in his late teens.  This gave him the chance to go on and help so many others in his work, and to get to a place where he could understand compassion and love himself.  He thanked me for anchoring him to this world during a troubled time in his life when he felt completely unworthy of love.

The last thing he did was to carefully lift away the energetic cord that connected our heart chakras and let it fall gently to the ground.  He smiled and told me our karma was complete and that I didn’t need to carry that heavy weight around anymore.  We shared an energetic moment of love, and then he was gone.  I don’t know if I’ll have more contact with him in the future, but I’m grateful for the contact we did have.

And so I close that chapter of my life.  I have no regrets.  I learned important lessons from my relationship with Bryan.  Lessons about love, understanding, compassion, and forgiveness.

Rest in peace, dear one.  You will not be forgotten.

© 2009 by Erin Pavlina.

Do you have a friend or relative who seems to be hanging on to life even though they are suffering terribly or are in such a state of decline that their quality of life is practically zero?  What can you do to help them?  Pour over medical books and try to find a cure for what ails them?  Push them to persevere despite their pain and suffering?  Maybe.  Or maybe you need to have a conversation with them and let them know that it’s okay to go.  Sometimes that’s all people are waiting for, the green light, the go-ahead, the thumbs up.  Can you give them that gift?

On a soul level, people choose their time to die.  On some level, we know when we’re done.  But sometimes people hang on long after they’ve chosen to cross over.  Why would they do that?  One reason is fear.  Many people simply fear death.  Some people fear God’s judgment, while others who don’t believe in an afterlife cling to their life because they don’t want to disappear forever.

Another reason people hang on is because of family.  Sometimes people don’t want to leave their loved ones because they believe their family will be lost without them (financially, emotionally, etc.).  But when it’s time to go, it’s time to go.  You can delay it for days, months, or even years, but usually you’re suffering needlessly.  Get your affairs in order and pack your bags.  You’re going to the other side at some point.  Go when you’re ready, but don’t overstay your time here.

If you are the relative or friend of someone who is hanging on beyond their time, you can help them make their transition by giving them permission or encouragement to cross over.  Let them know you’ll be okay without them.  Let them know they don’t need to stay.  If they’re afraid, help them understand that they will be met on the other side by loved ones and the most intense love and joy they could ever imagine.  Prepare them for their journey.

Years ago I helped my grandmother make the decision to cross over. She resisted it for years.  She suffered through cancer and a heart attack, and was living in a retirement home.  Her husband was already dead.  At night, he and I would have conversations with her soul and let her know it was okay to cross over and that her time in this incarnation had come to an end.  She was afraid to let go.  She was afraid to die.  We encouraged her many times, but she just wasn’t ready.  Finally one night she gave us a different answer.  She had made her decision and told us she was ready to go.  Three days later we got word that my grandmother died, in her sleep, no discernible cause.  She just slipped away.  She joined my grandfather on the other side, whole and complete, no longer afraid or suffering.

One of the kindest things you can do for another human being is to give them permission to die when it’s their time to go and they are suffering.  There is no need to rail against the dying of the light, because what is on the other side is like going home.  It’s beautiful, loving, and whole.  Don’t anchor people’s energy here by keeping them on life support for months or years.  You’re keeping them from peace.  It’s hard to let go, yes.  But remember that they’re not really going anywhere.  They’re just sloughing off their physical shell.  They are intact and whole on the other side.  You can still communicate with them, still love them, and one day you’ll see them again.

Honor those you love by releasing the emotional tether that holds them to Earth.  Honor those you love by giving them permission to let go and cross over.  Let them know they have nothing to fear and that you’ll be just fine without them.  You will.  In time.

© 2009 by Erin Pavlina.

First, I announced on my blog that I was developing my psychic abilities to a point where I could actually begin doing readings for people.  I blogged about my awakening and my experience on the Criss Angel MindFreak show.  I was off and running, I was happy, congruent, and really proud of myself.  At the same time this was happening, I was still running my online magazine, VegFamily.  I was also doing web consulting and programming, and I had an independent publishing company.  I announced on VegFamily that I was a psychic medium and that if anyone wanted a reading, to go to my new site.  This was the beginning of the end of my naiveté.

I immediately got a bunch of nasty emails from readers who told me I was doing the devil’s work, and that the Bible expressly prohibited them from interacting with me in any way, shape, or form.  They told me they were going to stop reading the magazine, even though they’d been loyal readers for years and found the information great.  That surprised me. 

Then I got an email from a woman who had contributed several articles to the site over the years – a  woman I had exchanged many pleasant emails with – who asked me to remove all of her articles from the site because I was going against the Lord and working for Satan.  I wrote back to her for clarification since I had no awareness of what she was talking about.  She sent back a lot of quoted scripture and there is indeed a passage in the Bible that says you’re not supposed to truck with mediums and you should stone them on sight.  I’m glad she lived in another state.   I got into it with her for a few exchanges because I wanted to sincerely understand how she could be my friend one day and the next want to shun me. For her, what it came down to was that she was a devout follower of the Bible and the Bible expressly stated to her that she could not have any contact with me.  I wished her well in her life and we parted ways permanently.  I think what shocked me most was that I felt I was being unfairly and harshly judged by vegans, who were no strangers to harsh judgment from family, friends, and society.   Shouldn’t they have known better?

Next, a couple of my web clients stopped doing business with me because I was a psychic.  And some members of the vegan community with whom I’d been doing business suddenly stopped responding to my emails.  None of them called me devil-spawn, they just drifted away or gave me the cold shoulder.  So coming out publicly as a psychic negatively impacted my businesses and to some extent my income. 

Then there were the friends.  I don’t have many religious friends so I wasn’t expecting any kind of negative response from them regarding my new profession.  I was wrong though.  There was a new problem to contend with.  It took me a while to figure out why some of my friends and acquaintances were treating me so coldly.  I found out quite by accident that they were wondering why I’d turned to a life of crime.  Yes, crime!  Apparently, and I’m not sure you’re aware of this, all psychics are frauds, charlatans, and criminals who prey on people who are gullible enough to think that psychic abilities and talking to dead people is even possible.  Yes, that’s right.  These people thought I was actually, and quite deliberately, turning to a life of crime.  I can’t blame them for not wanting to associate with a criminal, except for one problem, I wasn’t a criminal!  This actually hurt me a lot more than the religious issue.  I’m used to some religious people turning a blind eye to their own intuition in favor of what’s fed to them via holy scripture.  I’m not used to being thought of as a criminal though.  That took some time for me to digest.  Rather than try to understand how I was developing my psychic abilities, they found it much more believable that I had simply decided to rip people off.  Some friends, right?  I recall one day asking one of my friends if he thought I was fraudulently ripping people off and he said, “I know you believe you’re psychic, and I know you’re not trying to rip people off, but everyone knows psychic abilities aren’t real so I think you’re probably deluded but not intentionally trying to hurt anyone.”  Gee, thanks.  Over the years he’s really come around, though, and thinks I just have an uncanny ability to accurately name people’s dead relatives and tell people what they do for a living without them telling me first.  He uses words like “lucky guess” and “coincidence” a lot.

I started to have concerns about even calling myself a psychic because of all the negative connotations built into the group.  To be fair, there really are a lot of frauds, charlatans, and criminals in this industry, and that’s a real shame, but let’s not throw the baby out with the bath water.  Not everyone who claims to be psychic is a criminal or fraud.  It reminds me of when I joined a sorority and my non-sorority friends thought that all sorority girls were vapid sluts only interested in hair, make-up and the size of frat boy bulges.  Lordy, people. 

So, long story short, I lost a lot of friends and apparently credibility when I came out as a psychic.  It wasn’t all bad though.  There were some unexpected positives.

My family has been incredibly supportive and proud of my work as a psychic medium.  My dad is so cute, he tells everyone about his psychic daughter.  He carries my cards around with him and gives them to everyone: the dental hygienist, the mail carrier, his business contacts, and friends.  In fact, my mom had to tell him to tone it down a bit as they came to find what I found, that some of these people thought I was a criminal too.  I think my dad was just as surprised to find this out as I was.  They started having uncomfortable situations with their own friends when my name was brought up. 

My sister has run into this problem too when she tells her friends that she has a psychic sister.  They all want to know why I haven’t won the lottery yet.  So for some, it’s just purely the fact that they know nothing about how psychic abilities work that cause them to suspect I am being less than honest.  I think the fact that my family has known about my psychic gifts for my entire life has helped them see that becoming a professional psychic was a natural progression for me.  They know I’m not a criminal or fraud and it’s hard for them understand why others think I am.

My aunt and cousin are also exceptionally supportive of me.  Sometimes when I’m in Los Angeles I do my in-person readings in their home.  Steve’s family has also been supportive.  I was concerned as they are very religious, but apparently their priest told them it was okay as I am using my gift to help others and because I believe my gift comes from God/Source, as I wrote about in my blog entry, But Where’s the Love?

I told Steve at one point that coming out publicly as a psychic medium must be somewhat similar to how homosexuals feel when they come out publicly.  You have to deal with and accept the fact that some people will shun you because of their beliefs about your “group.”  I have great compassion and respect for people who proudly share their real selves with the world, knowing it will probably create a disconnect with some people in their lives.  But it is only by fully sharing who we really are that we can begin to bring down the walls of preconception and challenge people to get to know us before deciding what we are.

If you are a fellow psychic, what has been your experience of coming out publicly?  Or do you only tell certain people?  What reactions have you received, and how have you dealt with any negative judgment?  If you’ve come out as a homosexual or anything that is sometimes perceived as an abomination or against the Bible or social norms, what has been your experience?  What words of wisdom can you share with others who are considering coming out?

All I can say is that coming out of my own closet was really eye-opening for me.  I discovered that even intelligent people can make assumptions that are not based on personal observation but just on preconceived ideas about a group.  This is wrong.  It’s wrong for all of us.  Guard against this at all costs as it’s very damaging to society as a whole.

To the budding young psychics out there who are considering becoming a professional psychic, know going into this that you may lose some friends, that some people who claim to love you may disconnect from you.  But if your heart is aligned with this truth you have nothing to be ashamed of.  Let people have their reactions, let them walk their own path, but don’t hide who you are.  We can’t change people’s beliefs about psychics by staying hidden or underground.  Be honest and forthright in all your dealings.  Perhaps in time we can repair our damaged reputation, and help people see we are truly aligned with love.  Even with all the negativity, the loss of friends, the damaged relationships, the harsh and critical emails from total strangers, I wouldn’t trade my path for anything.  It’s been an incredibly rich and rewarding journey, really a dream come true.

Now where did I put that broom?  I’ve got some flying to do.

© 2009 by Erin Pavlina.

At our pre-Thanksgiving meeting we decided to do something different.  Instead of writing our own intention, we picked names out of a hat and wrote intentions for someone else in the group.  In order to write an intention for someone else you have to know them pretty well.  Since we’ve all been together for a couple of years now, it wasn’t terribly difficult.  Hearing an intention that someone else has thought of for you is incredibly revealing.  Think about what you might intend for someone in your own life.  Do you think you know them well enough to know what their heart truly desires or what they really need in their life?  We read our intentions out loud.  It was empowering, creative, and even a little frightening.  The intention I read for my secret member involved her taking massive action on something I felt she had pushed to the back burner.  She received it well and has taken incredible action since I cast the intention for her.

After going around the room, we did another exercise.  On a piece of paper we wrote all of the things we wanted to accomplish in 2009.  Then we went outside and our hostess gave us a bunch of electric, flameless, votive candles.  For each wish, we put a votive candle on this special light tree.  By the time we were all done, that tree was decked with beautiful lights.  Then we sat around a bonfire and released our intentions (threw the paper) into the fire, with a prayer that 2009 be our best year ever.  It was a beautiful and empowering night, and I left that meeting feeling wonderfully uplifted and inspired.

By the way, the intention written for me was that I make all my wildest dreams a reality.  It’s very powerful when you think about it.  Wildest dreams huh?  I don’t know, I can think of a lot of wild dreams.

Now fast forward to December where we decided to do something special for the holidays.  This time, we printed out small sheets of paper with the following written on them:  My Holiday Wish For You …, Thank You For …, What I Love About You …, and then we answered all three questions for each person in the group.  We brought a festive container to collect our holiday wishes from the others.  We sat in a circle and put our holiday wishes for each person into their bucket, tin, or box.  Then we went around the room and read them out loud.  I can’t tell you how beautiful this experience was for me.  If you’ve ever read my blog entry, Three Wishes, you’ll know that my three wishes in life are to know myself, know another, and to have another know me.  This exercise I did with my Mastermind group tapped into those wishes.  Hearing how other people feel about you is a gift, especially if you’ve impacted them in a positive way.

Some of my favorites were:

What I love about you is that you dare to be brilliant.  You dare to share your brilliance and you dare yourself to be a woman of substance and heart.

What I love about you is your excitement about life and new adventures.

What I love about you is your compassion for others and your committment to your clients, family, and friends.

What I love about you is that you have absolutely gorgeous hair.

What I love about you is your sweet, gentle, spirit that continues to illuminate those around you.  You bring light wherever you go.

Thank you for showing us how to live a more light-filled life.

Thank you for bringing your angels and guides to our meetings so that we may learn and grow.

I could go on but I think you get the gist.  I think we all left that night feeling loved and cared for.  I know I did.  My Mastermind group is a wonderful support for me.  Mastermind meetings allow me to share insights with the group and receive wisdom from them.  You learn a lot about yourself and what you have to offer in a such a group.  I’m blessed to have these wonderful, wise, women in my life. 

Even if you don’t have a Mastermind group, you can still do these exercises with your family and friends.  What would happen if you did?

Bright blessings to you all!

© 2009 by Erin Pavlina.

Answer:  People ask me variations on this question all the time so an answer is obviously in order.

When it’s okay to give a reading as a gift
There are only two appropriate circumstances where you’d want to buy a reading for someone as a gift.   If the person has specifically said, “Boy I’d love to have a reading with Erin Pavlina one day.  Maybe someone will give me a reading with her as a gift.”  Because then you know the person actually wants the reading, is familiar with how I work, and is probably open to hearing what their guides are going to tell them.  The second circumstance is if you know they want a reading with a good psychic and you want to surprise them with a reading with me because you are familiar with my work and you know they’re going to get a good reading.

When it’s NOT okay to give a reading as a gift
Do not sign someone up for a reading if they don’t believe in psychics.  Skeptics will put up walls and barriers, and they won’t get a good reading no matter what you tell them in advance.  Fear of what a psychic might see often causes people to clam up their energy.  If my sitter isn’t open to getting a reading, I don’t want to push and probably couldn’t get past their wall anyway.

Also, don’t buy someone a reading because you’re hoping their guides will set them straight, for example, “My mom is really fat.  I want the guides to tell her to go on a diet.”  We don’t decide what the guides get into.  They may not even address what you’re hoping they’ll address, so don’t count on a reading doing the convincing for you. 

Don’t gift a reading to someone who isn’t ready to hear what the guides have to say.  I’m not a laundry list psychic and my readings are not entertainment.  The guides have a short time to convey the most important things you need to know to get your life back on track.  Sometimes that means going deep into the past where we might find abuse, neglect, shame, or guilt.  Don’t force that on someone who isn’t ready.  It’s like buying a person a gift session with a psychologist.  “Oh just go hear what she has to say.  I’ll pay for it.   It’ll be fun.”  No.  This is serious business.  If someone isn’t ready to “go there” they won’t get the benefit from the reading.  That isn’t to say that all the readings go deep into someone’s past, but it’s entirely possible and in many cases probable that we’re going to “go there” right quick!  It happens all the time.

Summary
In summary, you should never force a reading on someone who isn’t ready and willing to hear some major life information.  However, if you’re certain they would benefit from a reading, send them to my blog to get to know me, or email them some articles I’ve written that you think might help with their particular situation.  Once they warm up to me and know what my readings are like, ask them if they’d like a reading, and then feel free to purchase one for them as a gift.  Changing someone’s life for the better is quite a gift indeed.

© 2009 by Erin Pavlina.

Expressing gratitude is one of the highest vibrational energies you can create.  When you tune in to your blessings you can almost feel a tingling energy inside your body.  Try it now and see.  Think of something you’re truly grateful for and express that gratitude in your mind or out loud.  I’m not talking about, “Well I really hate my neighbor but at least she’s out of town this week.”  No, no.  Think of something you are truly grateful for.  “I am so thankful that I have friends who care about me.”  Really plug in to the feeling.  Imagine seeing a ripple of energy spreading out in waves from your body and going out into the world.  Your thought of gratitude is like a pebble in a pond, sending ripples of positive, loving energy out into the world.  It has an effect even if you can’t see it right away.

When I do intuitive readings, I meditate and end up in my White Room, where Bob, my conduit guide, awaits me.  One of the first things I do before I tune in to my sitter’s guides is thank all of my guides and my higher self for being present with me and helping me connect to do readings.  I sometimes even imagine handing them all roses.  The first time I did this it was very spontaneous, but I was so surprised to discover how it made ME feel to simply give thanks and show my gratitude.  I am certainly not alone when I do readings so why not thank the guides for helping me, right?  When I saw how much it raised my energy I started expressing my gratitude towards them each and every time I get to my White Room.  This higher vibration helped me connect better to my sitter’s guides so it was a win for everyone!

When was the last time you told someone in your life how grateful you were to have their love and support?  Would it make you uncomfortable to express that?  If so, try doing it just in your own mind.  The ripple will still go out and impact them on an unconscious level.  Imagine what would happen if everyone expressed gratitude and love instead of annoyance and anger.  I think that sort of ripple effect could change the world.

This Thanksgiving I am eager to express my gratitude, love, and thanks for all that I have, for all that I am, for all that I can give, and for everything I receive from others.  What are you thankful for this season?  Take a minute and really think about it.  Share it in the forum if you’d like, write it down, give someone a call, or just send out a thought ripple. 

Thank you for reading.  I am grateful for the opportunity to share my thoughts with you.

© 2009 by Erin Pavlina.

Who are these people and how do they know where to go, and when, and what to do when they get there?

First of all, these people are typically unaware that they are being sent to guide you.  So if you say to them, “Oh wow, are you one of my guides?” they’ll probably look at you like you escaped from the mental ward.  No, they’re just being themselves, but they are usually “coincidentally” in the right place at the right time to offer just the right piece of advice or information that allows you to take a big leap forward in your spiritual development, or maybe even to save your life. 

How do they get there?  They’re guided by their own guides to be in the right place.  Perhaps your guides put a notice up on the spiritual bulletin board in the ether, “Wanted, someone who can knock some sense into this bloke we’re trying to guide.  He’ll be at Starbucks on Saturday, the 12th, at 8am.  Can anyone help?”  And maybe another guide reads this notice and says, “Hey, my charge, Suzanne, is going to be in that vicinity.  I’ll see what I can do.”  The next morning Suzanne wakes up with the sudden urge to go grab a coffee at Starbucks, which is something she never does, and at the last minute decides to bring along her copy of oh, say, Personal Development for Smart People.  So she’s sitting there chugging away at her latte while reading up on love and oneness and suddenly she sees a sad sack of a bloke sitting at a table all alone.  Without hesitation or a second thought she leaps from her chair and goes right up to the guy.  Handing him her book she says, “You look like you could use some help.  This book helped me a lot, and I’ll bet it will help you too.”  The guy kindly accepts this out-of-nowhere gift and the girl walks away, unknowing of the fact that she was a catalyst and just changed this guy’s life forever.

That’s just one example of how something like this could go down.  There are many other ways.  Perhaps you’re suicidal and walking down the street when you realize you’re lost.  By the time you look up from your haze of emotional pain you realize you’re standing right in front of a church.  A kindly priest invites you in and by the end of your chat you don’t want to kill yourself anymore.

Earthly guides come in all shapes, sizes, and species.  Sometimes it’s an animal that comes along at just the right time to provide you some comfort.  Or maybe it’s a child that captures your attention, or who comes up to you and says, “Excuse me, sir, you look like you could use a hug.”  Out of nowhere.  It’s good stuff.

Earthly guides don’t have to be hit-and-runners though.  Sometimes a special person comes into your life and sticks around for a while.  You develop an instant and special bond, and before you know it, your vibration is increasing rapidly.  Maybe it’s someone who helps you work out that issue with your parents, or maybe it’s someone who gets you on the road to addiction recovery.  Maybe it’s a business contact who helps you take your business to a whole new level.

I had a special guy friend in high school who was an earthly guide for me.  He was very wise and really good at teaching, and he was only 17.  We would spend hours talking about life and I would ask him dozens of questions.  He had a special way of teaching me without giving me answers, but drawing me to my own conclusions.  Many years later when I told him what a profound impact he had on me during that time in my life and how he really steered the course of my life because of it, he said, “I was your teacher?  No, I think you have that wrong.  You asked me the most amazing questions and I learned more about life from your questions than you could possibly have learned from my answers.”  Huh, who knew?

Be on the lookout for these guides.  Accept their help, advice, wisdom, support, love, whatever they have to offer.  How can you tell who is a guide and who is a just a nosy, butter-inner?  By the way they make you feel.  Is what they’re offering helping you in some way?  Receive it lovingly and willingly.  Be on the lookout for the drive-by earth guides.  These moments of contact have a special quality about them, the kind you remember years later, the kind you look back upon and realize, “Interesting, that day at Starbucks this random woman handed me a book, and now that I look back I realize it was that moment that put me on the path I’m on right now, helping others.  Fascinating.”

Yes, fascinating indeed.  The world works in mysterious ways. Your guides are putting up your information on some cosmic “Help Wanted” bulletin board.  Maybe one day, you’ll be the guide for someone else.  Pay it forward.  When you feel a strong urge to help someone, don’t hold back.  You could be the one that makes a difference in his or her life.

© 2009 by Erin Pavlina.

In our P.E. class, Sophie never changed into her gym clothes.  The teacher would give her unsatisfactory grades for her non-compliance, but she seemed resigned to that.  I figured she had a body image issue and just didn’t want to change in front of the rest of us.  One day I noticed someone had erected a sheet in the girl’s locker room and Sophie and her group of friends would go change behind the sheet.  Sophie was then able to participate in P.E.  But her other problems remained.

I didn’t think much of it until one day I saw something that horrified me.  I’m not sure how it happened, but Sophie and I were in the locker room alone together, and the sheet fell down while she was changing.  I saw her naked back.  I saw a burn in the shape of an iron on her back.  There was no mistaking what I saw.  When Sophie realized that the sheet had dropped at an inopportune time, and that I saw the burn, she started crying.  “Please don’t tell anyone.  Please.  I’ll get in so much trouble if anyone tells.”

I was stunned.  I just said, “Uh, okay.  I won’t say anything.”  She was begging me, what could I do?  But I was haunted beyond words.  Suddenly I realized, even at the age of 12, that Sophie was the victim of horrible physical abuse.  I couldn’t ignore what I saw but I wasn’t sure what to do.

Later that day a couple of her friends came up to me and told me that Sophie had told them what I saw.  I asked them if they knew about it and they said yes!  They told me that Sophie’s mom was abusing her all the time, and neglecting her.  Often she wasn’t fed or allowed to take a bath, and sometimes her mom arbitrarily kicked her out of the house to go sleep on the street.  Her friends had all banded together to give her some of their lunch each day.  I asked them why they didn’t tell someone, and they said that Social Services had already been there, but Sophie’s mom covered up the abuse and then abused Sophie even more for getting her in trouble.  They had determined that the best thing to do was just help Sophie cope.

I was so troubled by what I knew.  I started seeing Sophie in a whole new light, that of a victim.  When I offered to give her some of my clothes or food she told me she couldn’t take any clothes or her mom would find out and want to know where she got them and why they were given to her.  Sophie was carrying around this secret and her friends were helping her stay out of trouble the best way they knew how.  I really didn’t think this was the best way to help her, but I was afraid that Sophie would just get in trouble if I interfered, plus I wasn’t sure what to do.

Then Sophie missed a week of school.  I remember the teachers all acting like she was this horrible kid who just wasn’t smart and didn’t want to participate, but I and her friends knew she could be in real trouble.  My imagination ran wild with thoughts of her being hurt by her mom, so I told her friends we had to tell an adult.  They threatened me, and I honestly understood why.  They thought telling someone would hurt Sophie more because they had seen that apparently adults had no power to help her so why make it worse. 

Then Sophie was back in school, with her arm in a cast and sling.  She let slip that her mom had dislocated her shoulder and broken her arm for accidentally dropping a dish on the floor that broke.  I burst into tears. I just couldn’t imagine my mom hurting me like that, and I just couldn’t imagine someone having to live in fear that something like that could happen.  I told my mom everything I knew about Sophie.  But I begged my mom not to tell anyone because I really thought it would be worse for Sophie.

My mom knew better though. She called the school first to let them know what was going on, and then she called Social Services.  I remember being in class one day when some “people” came to take Sophie away.  She was freaking out, she didn’t want to leave her mom, her only source of “love and protection.”  There was a big scene.  After she was gone, her friends advanced on me like they were going to kill me.  They all knew who had probably spilled the beans because they knew they hadn’t.  I protested my innocence, frankly because I was afraid they’d beat me up.  We had no idea what happened to Sophie and everyone blamed me.  I was sick with worry myself.

But I knew in my heart I had done the right thing by telling, and I was secretly glad my mom had taken the step I wasn’t strong enough to take on my own.

And then one day, a few months later, the most wonderful thing happened.  I was playing out in the yard during lunch when a car pulled up alongside the fence.  A beautiful little girl got out of the car.  She was wearing a pretty spring dress, her hair was beautiful, and there was a huge smile on her face.  It was Sophie!  I rushed to the fence to greet her as did many of her friends.  She let us know that someone had indeed called Social Services on her and her mom.  She was put into foster care and her mom was put in jail and convicted of child abuse.  She was placed with a family who cleaned her up, gave her new clothes, and gave her food and proper care.  She told us she had never been so happy in her life and she thanked “whoever” had told on her.  A huge weight lifted off my shoulders that day.

That experience taught me never to stand idly by while someone was being hurt or taken advantage of.  It isn’t always easy to know what to do to help someone, but ignoring them and their plight is wrong too. 

We can’t just stand by when someone is being harmed.  Get help, even if you can’t provide it on your own.  Don’t harden your heart to the suffering of others.  Take action.  When we ignore the suffering of others we condone the actions of the perpetrators.  As a society we must take action as well.  True compassion is stepping in when injustice is present.  Help others because one day you might need help.  How would you feel if people turned a blind eye to your suffering?

I wonder what Sophie’s life is like today.  I wonder what her life would have been like if no one had stepped in to help her.  I wonder if she would have survived her childhood.  I wonder how many other children, and even adults, are out there right now in the same situation, with friends who know of their suffering but who are too afraid to take action.

Don’t be a bystander.

© 2009 by Erin Pavlina.

The other day I was in the car with my 8-year-old daughter, Emily and we had an interesting conversation.  Here is roughly how it went. 

Emily:  Mommy, did you know my heart locket has a little jewel in it?
Me:  No, I didn’t know you put anything in your heart locket.
Emily:  Well I put this little jewel in there.  Yesterday when I was at school I opened my locket and took out my jewel and asked Claire (her angel) to help me cast love energy at my classmates.
Me:  You what?
Emily:  Yeah, I wanted everyone in my class to feel loving towards each other so I asked Claire if she would help me and I made a wish on my jewel.
Me:  Wow, you did that, really?  That’s incredibly wonderful of you to do that.
Emily:  I even told Claire to send love energy to the bad people, like the demons, so that maybe they can find their way back to the light.

I can’t tell you how my heart was swelling with pride at this point.  My little muffin, consciously casting love energy at people.  I said, “Where did you get the idea to do this, Emily?”

She said, “From you, Mama.  You taught me that putting love into the world was better than putting hate into the world.  And I just wanted everyone to feel happy and loved like I do.”

My eyes welled up with tears quite honestly.  It was definitely a moment I will never forget.  I didn’t realize that she had learned this from me.  I have had conversations with both of my children about the difference between love and dark energy.  I’ve drawn their attention to moments when I see them casting love energy at each other (”Kyle, I’ll read you a story tonight if you want”) and moments where they aren’t quite so light (”Kyle, if you take my sucker out of my bag again I’m going to bop you!”).  But I can tell that they’re both getting it; they’re both aware of when they’re using love energy and when they’re using dark energy.  Awareness of what kind of energy you’re casting into the world is an important first step to consciously choosing what kind of energy you will send into the world.

You can cast love energy at anyone anytime whether they are in your presence or not.  Lately as I go to bed each night I’ve been feeling so grateful and wonderfully blessed.  I take a moment to appreciate all that I have and all the people who tell me I’ve affected their lives for the better.  Then I think of someone from my present or past, someone who I think would benefit from some love, and I just cast love energy at them.  I think about them, say a little prayer for their wellbeing, send forgiveness if it’s warranted, send understanding if it’s needed, but mostly I just send unconditional love.  I take a moment to recognize my cosmic connection with them and send them the love I would want someone to send me.

There is so much power and energy in this act.  It raises your vibration instantly, and if you are in a state of fear there is nothing better you can do for yourself than to send unconditional love out into the world.  You’ll find it comes back into your heart a hundred-fold.

Cast love at others.  Open your heart and let the universe fill you with its love, and then pay it forward to someone else.  I believe on some level they will feel it come into them.  The more we create these tendrils of love the better our world will become.  Send peace, gratitude, understanding, whatever you need to send.  Open the conduit of love and keep the energy flowing.

Or get a little jewel, put it in a heart locket, and wear it around your neck like my daughter does.  Then make a wish for love, peace, compassion and harmony to be in your heart and the hearts of others.  Yes, even the demons… they need love too.

© 2009 by Erin Pavlina.

“The Golden Rule,” she explained, “means that you treat other people the way you want to be treated.  So if you want people to be nice to you, you must be nice to them.  If you want people to be your friends you must be friendly to them.  And if you treat people unkindly you are telling them that you expect to be treated unkindly in return.  If you don’t want people to be mean to you, stop being mean to them.”  Cool.  Got it.  Makes sense.  I can do that.  It’s all about being fair.  If I steal from someone I am telling them that I expect and am okay with them stealing from me.  After all, if I am not okay with that, why would I do it to them?  I tucked the Golden Rule into my heart and went on about my life, treating others with kindness, fairness, civility, and love because that’s how I wanted to be treated.

The Golden Rule worked pretty well in fourth grade.  Anytime a kid was the slightest bit mean to me I reminded them of the Golden Rule and they changed their behavior.  And anytime I even thought about being mean to another kid I asked myself if that’s how I would want to be treated.  It was a great check and balance system.  I always checked my behavior to make sure it was in alignment with how I wanted to be treated.  Sure I made mistakes here and there but for the most part I did pretty well with the Golden Rule and I was very happy to have such a clear cut way of behaving that felt good to me.

Then came high school.  Clearly some of these people had not had the benefit of being in Mrs. Cameron’s classroom because this is where I started seeing some of the worst behavior I’d ever seen.  I recall one day while waiting with a hundred kids to get into school that a guy turned to me, that I did not know, and said “I’m going to kick your ass after school you f***ing Jew.”  I turned around to see who he was talking to but he pointed to me and said, “I’m talking to you, b*tch.  I’m going to kick your ass.”  I had no idea who this guy was but apparently he knew all he needed to know about me.  I was frightened the entire day and made sure all of my male friends were with me after school to take me to my car.  I steered clear of that guy the rest of the school year, living in fear that he would remember his threat against me and one day make good on it.  There were the cliques, periodic and seemingly random sexual assaults, and fights that broke out over who got to sit where in the cafeteria.  It was chaotic, violent, and scary to be in my high school.  I kept my head down and tried to learn, but I lived in constant fear of the next random act of violence (physical, emotional, sexual, etc.).

I survived high school and went to college where I also enjoyed random acts of violence and sexual assault but this time committed by so-called “adults.”  A little freedom and independence can do wonders for your morality.

But even in high school and college things were tame compared to what I see in the world today.

It’s very easy to lose your faith in the Golden Rule when other people around you are breaking it all the time.  After all, why should you be nice, kind and loving when other people are taking advantage of you, stealing, getting away with murder, committing violence, and lying; especially when some of these people are your world leaders or clergymen?

Because I live very closely aligned with the Golden Rule I don’t understand things like guns, bombs, and war.  I know I don’t want anyone to shoot me, bomb me, or invade my homeland so I can’t fathom doing it to anyone else. 

Before I take any action towards someone else I always ask myself if what I’m about to do is something I would want done to me.  If the answer is no, I find another way to express myself.  I’m not perfect by any means, but I am usually aware when I’m breaking the Golden Rule and spend some time thinking about how to improve.

I am greatly pained when I see adults violating the basic rules of decency that we try to teach our children. 

Can you imagine what our world would be like if everyone followed the Golden Rule?  I think about this a lot.  There would be no need for prisons, there would be no war.  Decency and civility would be the order of the day, not back stabbing, violence, and deceit.  People would be more fair, just, merciful, and compassionate.  And there would be a lot more love in the world by far.

Do you believe in the Golden Rule?  Do you follow its tenet?  When other people mistreat you do you assume they are asking to be treated the same way, and if so do you comply by getting revenge on them and violating your own honor?  Even when other people mistreat me I still feel bound to adhere to the Golden Rule even if they aren’t.  Someone’s got to set the example.  Especially for our children and the future of our world.

I am so grateful to Mrs. Cameron for posting the Golden Rule in my fourth-grade classroom.  That was possibly the most important lesson I learned that entire year…

© 2009 by Erin Pavlina.