Are you First Nations? Our memory is a more perfect world than the universe: it gives back life to those who no longer exist.  ~ Guy de Maupassant Although there are a few experiences I’ve written about, I don’t share much of my work related to indigenous peoples publicly. They include my initial relationship with the Navajo, how it intensified when partnering with their Slayer of Alien Gods, and how a dead Ojibwa-Cree came into my world and changed it forever. I’ve held clos

Today’s question is from an email received last night. DM wrote: “Are you reiki trained? What us your academic training. I am reiki 2 but would never make claims that you do”  (Yes, it’s unedited). My response: Nope. I’m not reiki (or any other modality) trained.  This was a gift that pretty much fell into my lap about four years ago  during a a Quantum Touch class of all things.  I never took another class.  (Skip to the bottom to read my academics!) How I ended up in that f

Stories can be instructive on a multitude of levels. Here, I share a real one about ugliness and how we may be missing something critical when ignoring what we don’t want to see or see as unpleasing. I’d ask folks to consider how it influences our communion with the invisible, the expectations of how life *should* be, and our relationships with other people. For more like this: check out http://www.ingridoliphant.com #mentalhealth #ugliness #mystical #storytelling #Troll #Rel

I’m asked with some frequency if I believe in reincarnation, past lives, life after death, the afterlife, Heaven, and such.  Invariably, my answer goes a little something like this:  “There are, at the very minimum around seven billion expressions of life  (7, 122, 966, 300 by today’s population clock at 8:05EST) that flux and flow between breaths.  It seems to be there would be that many experiences of death and post-death.  Although there may be some similarities, they are

“As a child I felt myself to be alone, and I am still, because I know things and must hint at things which others apparently know nothing of, and for the most part do not want to know.” ― C.G. Jung I was on the phone with a potential client last week and after she ran through some of the things she was seeking help with, I asked, “Why me?  Why now?”  Without hesitation she said, “You are the first person I’ve really connected with because, well, it just seems like you’re hone

On June 3, I posted this on the UnCommon Touch facebook page: “Are we *so* sure that we’re not “being real” or our “authentic self”? Are we really looking for “the Secret” of it all? Seeking ‘messages’, a truth, THE truth? What are you really looking for?” I wrote this the day after watching “The Master”, the same day where a new client shared horror stories connected to her own involvement with multiple “Masters” and the day before watching Kumare.  “The Master” was just, we

The string of events in the last few months that makes my life uniquely mine  continue at an amazing rate.   What others call ‘ecstatic experiences’ are, for me, quite normal.  Until, well, they are not. In An UnCommon Experience and On Fear and Stepping Up I shared two of my most striking ‘conversations with the universe’. Two Tuesdays ago, I had the most profound yet.  Two Tuesdays ago I went for an hour massage. I walked out three and a half hours later with something much

Inspired by Rumi, blog posts about hate, love and god; and 24 hours steeped in connection with all that is. In Between Stories ~ Rumi Did you hear that? It’s the man who was looking for treasure. He wants me to finish his story. You didn’t hear him? Then, he must be inside me yelling, “Over Here! Come over here!” Don’t think of him as a seeker, though. Whatever he’s looking for, he is that himself. How can a lover be anything other than the beloved? Every second he’s bowing t

There are those who think of me as ‘merely’ naive when it comes to things of spirit.  Here, I ask they consider their own limitation of expression that appears bound by others’ ideas & ideals. The string of logic posed by quite a few is that I’ve not studied spiritualism, metaphysics, any aspect of any religion, and not living/speaking/healing/BE-ing within the bounds of someone else’s playbook.   I’ve not sought out sages or saddhus, not read from mystics and mages, not wors

When I woke up this morning, I felt my body pulsing in a manner not entirely my own.  It’s not an unusual thing for me.  I always know I’m connected to you, he, she, that thing both within and without that connects us all.  It’s not unusual for me to feel another’s heartbeat alongside mine, feel another’s pain in my own body, know another’s joy in some quiet moments.  Today, though, the rythmn that moved in and around me developed a special meaning that I could not divine or

My boyfriend’s daughter asked him this past weekend what I do. As in what’s it called. Her mother apparently mentioned that it should be called something. As happens a lot of late, I said, “I dunno, really.” Not that I don’t sometimes think the same thing. That ‘it’ should be given a title so that people understand what I do in a word or phrase. Doctor, accounts manager, hedge fund analyst, therapist and the like. We ‘get’ those things. I generally call myself a healer

So, last week a friend sent a text that went something like:  [Wife] wants to know about that electric-shock-therapy-thing you do”.  And, of course, I had no choice but to just giggle because I’ve heard it called all sorts of things but not that. The fact that a side-effect of the healing work can be the receiver feeling a little ‘electric’ (insert “Boogie Woogie Woogie” and let that get stuck in your head!) and shock-prone, notwithstanding. This falls in line with the genera