Throat Chakra Girl

After the success I had finding a reiki practitioner through a referral on Facebook, I went back to find some meditation classes.

I received a reply from S, who runs a small yoga studio out of her home. I would describe her as a hippy, earthy type from England. She told me she had an autumn equinox meditation and sound bath event on the beach that she thought I may be interested in. It sounded lovely, and then she told me the date—September 25th. That was intriguing. That just happened to be the day I was supposed to see my oncologist. It sounded like a lovely coincidence, and a nice way to cap off a day that might be stressful.

A few days later, she messaged me again. This time she told me that she was also hosting a half day retreat in October focused on the throat chakra.

“Okay, what is happening?!” I said to my husband.

“First she has an event on the day of my oncology appointment, and now a throat chakra retreat?! That is literally what set me on this path.”

“You should go.”

“I don’t see how I can’t. I am starting to think this woman has been put in my path for a reason.”

So I signed up for both.

September 25th had finally arrived. My husband and I set off for my appointment. Half way to the destination, my phone rang. If you know me, you know I never answer my phone. My ringer is always on silent. I watched it ring, and then checked my voicemail afterwards, like a true geriatric millennial. It was then that I discovered that the day before my oncologist’s office had called to cancel my appointment.

“Hi there, this message is for Amanda. We have to cancel your appointment for tomorrow at 1pm. Please call and let us know you have received this message. We will call next week to reschedule.”

“What the fuck?!”

At first my husband was annoyed with me. I hadn’t checked my phone. I never answer it. We had both taken the day off for this. We ended up pivoting fast though. We veered off the highway, and went to buy plants for our fall planters.

I called back when I got home and may have been a bit passive aggressive since I was still annoyed. Annoyed that I couldn’t call back until I located their extension code. Annoyed that I had received a phone call, email and letter in the mail for this appointment, just for it to ultimately be cancelled. Annoyed that I would have had to pay them $50 if I had cancelled less than 24 hours before, but there were no ramifications for them. Lastly, I was annoyed to still not have any answers.

I did still have my beach meditation to look forward to. The weather was iffy that day, and it was decided 2 hours before that it would still be held on the beach.

45 minutes before I received an urgent message. The meditation event was being rescheduled due to an accident on the highway. It was showing as an hour drive from my house to the beach, when it should have only taken 17 minutes.

“What is going on today? Everything I was either anticipating, or looking forward to, has been cancelled.”

“I know, babe. It just is what it is. You will have to wait and see when they both get rescheduled for.”

The beach meditation got rescheduled first, for the following week. It ended up not being held on the beach due to a schedule conflict for the spot. I ended up going to that beach myself, that day, and meditating for some time.

As I headed over to S’s house, the new location for the event, I couldn’t help but wonder why she was crossing my path. When I arrived I met the woman who ran the sound bath portion, L, and another lady who would be joining us. It turned out it would just be the 2 of us participating since 6 others were unable to make the new date.

It was the most magical sound bath I had experienced. It almost felt like a private night, just for me. Under the stars on S’s deck, set amongst big, beautiful trees. We were tucked in with blankets sprinkled with essential oils, we were repositioned with bolsters, and it was just dreamy.

At one point, I felt S kneel behind me.

“It’s just my hands,” she whispered.

She gave me what felt like a scalp massage. There was something a little emotional about it for me. It felt motherly. A feeling I hadn’t had in the almost 14 years I had been without one.

I felt something shift in me slightly that night. A willingness to be more open. A tentative thought about maybe letting some people in, and not being afraid of disappointment. The last few years had been riddled with new friendships that were highly dramatic, and painful. So when S & L went to hug me after the sound bath concluded, and prefixed it with “We are huggers around here”, I hugged them back.

A few days later, I still hadn’t heard back from the oncologist’s office with a new appointment date. One of my occasional regulars, R came in that morning. R is a fierce old bird. In her 80’s, and a total no nonsense type. Months prior she had booked in with me by chance. Her usual RMT is a colleague of mine, but that particular day, she was in pain, and waitlisted herself for any of us. I had a cancellation, and gave her some relief, so she began seeing me. During that time, she told me about her thyroid cancer. She knew I had a nodule that led to an oncology appointment being booked.

“So how was your appointment?”

“It didn’t happen. He cancelled on me the day before.”

“You’re kidding! Listen Amanda, take down the name of my oncologist. He is world renowned, and he works out of Princess Margaret. He is the best of the best, and if he thinks he can help you, he will.”

I took what she said to heart, and I called my endocrinologist’s office after work and asked for the referral to be sent.

The next day they called me back to let me know the previous oncologist had called them with a rescheduling date—-October 23rd. My mother’s birthday. She would have been 70. I wasn’t sure if that was a sign, but I decided to wait and see if I heard from the other oncologist before making a decision. Once again, all I could do was wait.

I had noticed a shift in my meditations. I was not experiencing as many visuals as before. I would have my guides come through at the beginning of each session, maybe see some lights or shapes, but that would be all that I would remember.

I had a few significant sessions early on. One involved my mother coming through, and the other was an inner child encounter. Seeing visuals, or having encounters felt constructive. Being in darkness, or even worse, remembering nothing at all, seemed like a step in the wrong direction.

I may have not been retaining anything, but I wasn’t unconscious. I was somewhere inbetween consciousness and unconsciousness. Unfortunately for me, my desire to have control, mixed with curiosity, had me fighting to be present. I could have been in the spirit realm learning all the lessons, healing emotional wounds, but I still had to know. I simply couldn’t trust the process.

During my next meditation, I asked to remain present. I asked to retain what was happening during my session, and boy did I get what I asked for. I had a very vivid, dreamlike meditation. It was about a young boy who got separated from his parents during a street festival. He waits, and waits for them to return and then it starts to rain, as the sun goes down. No one ever showed up. It was unsettling, it had me thinking about childhood memories that just made me uncomfortable.

Later that morning I sent a voice note to my friend Megan while I walked my dog. She has been involved in the metaphysical world for 10 years. It is important to have people you can speak openly with when you start your spiritual awakening.

In my voice note I talked about my meditation and how it was unlike anything that had ever happened to me before. I had begun to question whether or not I had fallen asleep. All of my crystals had remained in place. Had I gotten what I had asked for, or had I simply fallen back to sleep?

As soon as I fired off the voice note, questioning my experience, I heard a rustling in the trees above me. I looked up just in time to see a crab apple coming directly at my face. It narrowly missed me and rolled along the wood chip trail, before coming to a haul. The timing was incredible. Questioning the process, yet again, with my silly, overly analytical brain.

I went to take a picture of the apple and fire off another voice note to Megan telling her how funny the timing of it all was. As I went to send her the picture, I noticed something.

In the bottom left corner was a leaf shaped like a heart. I sent the photo to my husband and asked him what he saw.

“I see a heart.”

“Me too!”

“What does that mean to you?”

“I think it was my guides way of saying “wake up!” You got what you asked for, and we come from a place of love.”

Launching an apple at my head was a bit much, but I had found it amusing. So much energy in my life had been devoted to questioning instead of just accepting and receiving.

That night I tried out a meditation class. I wasn’t sure what to expect since I found most metaphysical classes have very vague, and fluffy descriptions.

There were 4 of us in the class, and one instructor. The instructor proceeded to tell us that the class was divinely lead. Beforehand she would channel and certain archangels would come through. We spent the first half of the class discussing the angels that had come through, their characteristics, and what you could call on them for.

I didn’t really feel as though the class was for me. There was a man in the class that was rather overwhelming, with an air of being judgmental. I found myself annoyed with his constant interjections, and that simply wasn’t the mindset I was looking for.

We passed around a bowl with some strips of paper on them. Each piece of paper had a word on it that we were meant to use to describe our current place in our journey. The other three went before me. After they were done, the instructor would say which archangel she saw standing behind them. Each angel had been one that had come through that evening.

When it was my turn, I pulled the word ‘delight’.

“While I wouldn’t say this is a word I tend to use, I have found myself pleasantly surprised during this new journey I am on. It started with some health related issues, that are still ongoing, but mediation has really helped changed my mindset.”

“Well Amanda, the archangel I see behind you is Archangel Raphael. He’s the angel of health.”

My inner skeptic came roaring out. I found myself thinking ‘Oh come off it lady! I finish saying I have health related issues and the archangel of health just conveniently happens to be standing behind me.‘ He hadn’t even been an angel we had discussed that night.

At that point, I was ready to go home. I had been on a search for a great meditation class, and this just wasn’t it for me. We did our guided meditation, and then class was over.

“Before you leave, you are welcome to take an oracle card.”

On the floor, on a mat, were 6 oracle cards in each corner.

To my right had been a card I had noticed throughout the night. It was slightly overlapping another. I went up to it and took it. When I flipped it over, my breath caught in my throat.

“What the hell is happening”, I whispered.

“What card did you draw, Amanda?”

I showed her.

“Oh wow! You know, he wasn’t even one of the archangels that came through when I was channeling, and yet he was here.”

The next morning, I was telling my oldest daughter the story. Right as I finished, I went to grab my coffee. We have a fancy machine with the milk foam, and when I went to pick it up, something caught my eye.

A heart was indented in the foam.

“Oh Mom, Raphael loves you.”

“Ya Mom, he wants to marry you, because he loooooves you.”

My youngest daughter is quite the character.

“Trust me when I say this isn’t where the angel comes down to earth and impregnates a human. I’ve read books like that, and this isn’t it.”

All joking aside, I was receiving signs and messages that I just couldn’t brush off as being a coincidence. My brain wasn’t quite sure what to do with that information. All I knew is I was strapped into this rollercoaster seat, and I had no clue where it would take me next.

I dove head first into all things metaphysical. My crystal collection was growing at an exponential rate, I was signing up for classes, and courses. I was soaking up all the knowledge, all while building my meditation practice.

Crystals had been my first love. What started with a single lapis lazuli, became having crystals to place on each chakra. I was drawn to palm crystals, in particular, and found myself continually adding to my collection. I would be drawn in by their beauty, but ultimately, it was their properties that intrigued me most.

My most interesting encounter happened by chance. My husband had asked me to look into whether Akasha’s Den had a few particular crystals when I went in next.

I didn’t see them put on the floor so I went to the front desk to ask. Jess, who works there full time, had started to become a familiar face.

“My husband asked me if you guys carry a couple of crystals. Do you have something called moldavite?”

“Oh yeah we have moldavite.”

Between the tone in her voice, and the tinkle in her eyes, I was intrigued.

“The problem with moldavite is that TikTok caught wind of it during Covid. It caused the prices to go up and the supply to go down because everyone wanted to get their hands on it. So it is under lock and key.”

“I don’t know much about it, but I’ve heard it disappears on people.”

“Yes, it is a flighty stone. Mine disappeared on me for a while and then randomly showed up one day. It tends to disappear if you aren’t meant to be using it at that time. It is the stone of change and transformation. It helps remove the things that are no longer serving you.”

She brought me to the cabinet to see it. It was very unassuming crystal. It is a dark, almost charcoal colour until you hold it up to the light. Then you see the sea glass green shade it has. It was formed from a meteorite that hit our planet approximately 14.8 million years ago, in what would now be considered the Czech Republic. In other words, it’s not from here.

“Do you want to hold a piece?”

“Sure, why not.”

She placed it in my left hand. She started talking to me, but I quickly realized I was struggling to pay attention.

“Umm, my hand started tingling and it is moving up my arm to my elbow.”

“That’s moldavite for you. They call that the moldavite flush.”

Her lips were moving in front of my face but I just couldn’t seem to focus on what she was saying.

“Okay, now I have the most contradictory feeling. My feet feel grounded in cement blocks, but I also want to run. I’m torn between wanting to give this back, and never letting it go.”

It was such an intense feeling. In fact, I felt it every time I walked past that cabinet from then on. My husband ended up buying a piece for me, and it has been wild to work with. I’ve never responded to another crystal like that.

After that experience, I signed up for a crystal course at Akasha’s Den. I took that class back in September.

The class focused on the main shapes of crystals, which chakras they work with, cleansing, and how to set intentions. Crystals are just pretty things to look at if you don’t set an intention, or give them something to do. Of course, that is fine if you simply wish to have them for their beauty. I have both statement pieces, and a large collection that I work with.

As my crystal knowledge grew, so did my desire to communicate with my guides. I was already calling upon them multiple times a day to clear my clients, and myself, but I wanted to learn more.

I bought myself an amethyst pendulum, and tentatively tried it. I started by cleansing it on my selenite plate, and setting an intention for it. My intention was for clarity and communication with my guides and the spirit realm.

I should also mention that it is important to ground and protect yourself before each session. I use crystals, and an opening statement to do this. You don’t want to invite any negative energy into your place, unless you enjoy the ouija board scenes in horror films.

Our guides are an extension of our higher self, the part of us that is still present in the spirit realm. Think of them as the ones aware of the master plan. Our lives are mapped out before we are born. Yes, we have free will, but nothing major that happens is a coincidence. We are here living the human experience. We are here to learn, and to grow as souls. Each life we live is to aid in that growth. Our guides have our best intentions in mind, and will nudge us in the right direction to continue our spiritual growth. My newfound relationship with them has been very comforting. I come to them with questions about my past, my present, and my future. I’ve asked about everything from my health, to whether or not they want me to pull cards from my oracle deck.

It starts as a positive intention, a curiosity. Learning how your pendulum responds. For me, I receive a clockwise turn for a yes, and a counter clockwise turn for a no. From there, the possibilities are endless. All you need is faith.

My reiki practitioner had told me to carve out some time for fun, so I did. Over the Labour Day weekend, I had decided to take my youngest daughter to Elora for a few nights.

I had been to Elora once before, for my husband’s 40th, and had fallen in love with its small town charm.

I booked us into a log cabin loft Airbnb, right in the heart of the downtown core. The location was incredible. Steps away from all the shops, with a separate entrance that allowed us to come and go from the main streets with ease. Below us was a cafe, which was the most convenient. We would head down in our pajamas each morning, order breakfast sandwiches, and head back to our space to eat.

It was the relaxing break that I needed. We didn’t stick to a schedule, we went for walks through the trails, ate good food, and snuck in a few naps.

It was also my first time bringing my crystals with me with the intent of meditating outside of my home. That likely doesn’t seem like a big deal, but I am a creature of habit, and I was unsure how it would go. Would I be able to concentrate?

Being away with a preteen meant I was up first. I took the extra comforter and laid it out in the living room. It turns out I had one my best meditations in that space. I’m not sure if it was the setting, or the lack of strict schedule, but I saw orbs and colours for most of my session.

I’ve since come to learn that the colours, shapes and images I see are known as clairvoyance. Not to be mistaken with psychics, which are also clairvoyant, but in a different, stronger sense than I am.

I’ve also come to find that many people chase the visuals that come from meditation. They associate the optics with being good at meditation. It is similar to how people chase the constant entertainment of their social media feeds. The trouble with this is that progression in meditation isn’t exciting. It is often settling into the quiet. The nothingness. The first time it happened to me I thought I was broken. In actuality, I was advancing.

I was also keeping up with my grounding. We had a sweet little garden space, steps from the crowds that had come in droves. It was a quiet little spot first thing in the morning.

Oddly enough, Elora seemed to have an underlying metaphysical element. At least 4 stores we went into, ranging from home decor to stationary and jewelry, had either bins of crystals, or sage bundles and Palo Santo sticks. I was intrigued. I inquired about the reasoning behind it, and one man told me:

“I grew up in Elora. Aside from most of the people being really cool with artsy chill vibes, all the old buildings are haunted as fuck.”

Well that explains it.

I also noticed a strong connection to the indigenous community. Often you can find the metaphysical, and indigenous ways, overlap. A strong sense of spirituality, love of the Earth, and all of its elements. In fact, we even had a small Indigenous shop located across the street from us called Ancient Ways. We popped over and bought a clear quartz palm for my oldest daughter, that had been etched on by a local tribe member. For the sake of recognition, Elora is located on the treaty lands of the Anishinaabe and Haudenosaunee peoples.

One of the highlights of our trip was an unexpected one. The day we arrived, a young guy was out singing on the corner. My daughter asked me if he was going to stop playing the same song over and over. I had zoned him out as we put our belongings away, but it was then that I noticed he had been playing the Frays “How to Save a Life”, on repeat. Maybe he figured that with the constant flow of traffic, no one would notice. What he hadn’t considered, was the 2 people in the loft above the him, would be privy to his entire one song show. Eventually he stopped, which I assumed was because someone had tossed his ass in the river.

The next morning, an Indigenous man, adorned in purple velvet, with a matching hat, and dreamcatcher necklace on, set up on the corner. He had a set list as his feet, and feathers in his hat. A harmonica, and a guitar were his instruments of choice. He was amazing. I sat on our balcony and listened to him play. His day was long, and his voice was good. He sang through Neil Young, Fleetwood Mac, and the Beatles hits. He even played some old Tom Petty, before he was with the Heartbreakers.

I left Elora feeling rested, and with the lightest heart I had in some time.

The next few weeks went by in a blur. I fully immersed myself into meditation. Every morning began the same. I was meditating before I got out of bed, and the Barenaked Ladies had played their final encore. Each meditation was capped off with grounding in the backyard.

My mind was suddenly quiet at times. It was profound. I had never experienced that in my life. I was also getting up earlier, with intention. I was not a morning person, in fact when I talk about this with clients, I always tell the same story.

As a teenager, my Mom always insisted I shower in the morning. High school started at 8:20am, so that meant 6:30am wake-ups. My body was simply not having it. I was groggy, I was freezing. The last thing I wanted to do was shower.

I would turn on the water, and under the ruse of needing to wait for it to heat up, take a towel, curl up on the bathmat and cover myself up. This almost always led to me falling back to sleep.

My mom would eventually coming knocking, I would cup my hands over my mouth to make it sound like I was in the shower, and then rush to get washed as fast as possible. She eventually caught on and I was busted.

So now, as an adult, I was actually setting my alarm for 6:15am, and looking forward to getting up each day. Just 6 months ago, I was struggling to get out of bed by 7:30am. Surely I was going mad.

I was walking more, noticing things in nature. I rescued a few bumblebees, moths, and caterpillars from being squished. Carefully carrying them to safety, like I would have as a child. My heart was lighter, and mind didn’t feel so overwhelming. I was finding joy in the little things, literally.

Life seemed slower. I was carving out time for myself. I had been recommended to a little yoga studio that also offered breath work and meditation classes. It had been years, and years since I had attended yoga, and I can tell you it was quite humbling to try classes again. My flexibility, or lack of it, made me feel well beyond my years. I also discovered that breath work, while fulfilling, is really quite hard. Still working on enjoying the process of learning it.

My love of crystals was also growing. I was accumulating quite the collection, of mostly palm stones. I wanted to have one to place on each of the 7 chakras during meditation. I had tried meditating without them, but I quite enjoyed the sensation of them, the weight of them somehow felt comforting.

The biggest change I had noticed was my mindset. I wasn’t worried about my potential diagnosis, not really. That, in itself, was a testament to a change in my life. I had always been a worrier, my anxiety and overthinking only increasing with age. I often joked that I don’t seem like an anxious person, because I come across as an exhausted pigeon, and yet underneath that laidback facade, my feathers are almost always ruffled.

My closest guy friend, M, had shown up on my doorstep the day I told him about my biopsy findings. I had hardly registered who was at my door before I was enveloped by his bear hug. I was highly emotional, and yet trying to keep that under control.

Weeks later, when he called me to check in, it was very different.

“Hey buddy, just wanted to call and see how you are doing? Anymore news?”

“This is going to sound strange, but I am good. I have started meditating, and went to reiki, and my mind is in a much different place than when you saw me. I’m not worried, or making myself sick analyzing the shit out of this. I’m also not emotionally shut off either, because I know what that feels like, and this isn’t it. I should know more next month when I see the oncologist.”

I’m still struggling when I hear that word.

“Well, I’m glad you’ve found something that is helping you during this time.”

Me too, buddy, me too. I had found solace in the space between consciousness and unconsciousness. Peace in the swirls and orbs of colours, and images behind my eyes. The hum of energy moving up my limbs.

I felt like my old, desktop computer of a brain was starting to change. It had been long overdue for an upgrade. But like any upgrade, I hoped I wouldn’t regret it. With any change in life, sometimes we have to have faith, even if it might be met with failure. I was taking the leap.

The day of my reiki appointment had arrived. I walked into Kirsten’s lovely space with no expectations.

She was excited that it was my first time trying it. She explained that she hadn’t wanted to know much about my background, because a lot of what she experiences is intuitive, and she wanted it to be authentic.

She explained that prior to my treatment, she sat and thought about me, and was drawn to 3 things—an oracle deck, palm crystals for each hand, and an essential oil. Every part of that was optional. In addition, while touch during the treatment is minimal, you could opt out of that as well.

She showed me the oracle deck, and told me I could shuffle, or spread out the cards and choose one.

“I can’t shuffle, so should I just spread them out? Then I just pick one? I’ve never done this before.”

“Really?!”

“I’ve never dealt with oracle, or tarot cards, for that matter.”

“Well that is interesting. This isn’t a beginner’s deck that I was drawn too.”

I didn’t really know what to say to that. I spread the cards out, and chose one.

Next she presented me with the crystals I would be holding in each hand. One was a bluish turquoise colour, but the other, a mixture of pink with flecks of black and grey, stopped me in my tracks.

“What is that?”

“It’s rhodonite.”

“Well that’s interesting. My dad brought me home a stone rabbit from a business trip when I was a child, it looked like that.”

That rabbit had sat on my shelf for years. In fact, I was tucked away in a memory box at my home. I wondered if that was somehow significant.

The essential oil she was drawn to for me was lavender. Not my favourite, but I trusted the process.

I laid down on the table, covered with a blanket, with crystals in each hand. Kirsten had me inhale deeply and I closed my eyes.

She made her way to my toes and that was when it happened. I felt pressure between my eyes. It wasn’t painful, but it was intense. It was coupled with an almost blinding white light. It was so intense that I was struggling to keep my eyes fully closed. In fact, at several points I thought I was going to have to open them.

‘What the hell is happening’, I asked myself.

I had never felt anything like that before. I fought to keep my eyes closed, and eventually it lessened.

I was in and out of consciousness during the treatment. I wasn’t sleeping though. My crystals stayed firmed in my hands, pulsing. I felt my throat constrict a few times, and a guttural sound came out. Energy radiated throughout my body.

When the treatment was over, I was simply amazed that my Mother had tried this before and felt nothing. And I was the one that joked I was dead inside.

At that point I went to sit on the couch and Kirsten discussed what she had noticed.

“Is there a female in your life who has absolutely exhausted recently?”

I laughed. She was bang on. To avoid any further drama, I will keep that person’s name to myself.

“That was the first thing I noticed when I touched you. Your heart and solar plexus chakras were shuttered. I get the impression you have been making decisions purely with your mind, your third eye, and bypassing your heart and solar plexus, intuition centre, all together.”

Third eye. That was where I had seen the white light. I thought about her words and realized there had been many times recently where I had ignored my intuition, dove right in, and had to backtrack out again, slowly.

“Your crown chakra is completely closed. I’ve seen a lot of that lately. It is often open with people who are spiritual, or have a faith, or religion of some kind.”

“I am beginning to learn that I was taught something that has been a disservice to me. I was taught that being spiritual, and being religious, were one and the same, and I’m starting to realize that isn’t true.”

Without arguing religious beliefs here, I will simply say that I grew up going to church, and have no use for organized religion. The man made elements of churches, and places of worship, is not something I wish to be involved in, for a variety of reasons.

“You can certainly be spiritual, without being religious. You can have a relationship with yourself, and with Source, independent of the church.”

How freeing.

“I also feel your throat chakra is fine. It is open, and I saw a blue butterfly flying from it.”

Maybe this thyroid stuff was leading to some sort of transformation.

“I also see meditation being a big part of your journey.”

I scoffed at that. “I’m horrible at it. I tried recently and I couldn’t get my brain to be quiet.”

“Your mind is very powerful. The energy coming from your third eye was immense. Often that leads to frustration, because our mind is constantly going. You may only get moments of clarity from your sessions.”

Amongst suggesting meditation, she also suggested grounding. Going out and standing on the ground as much as possible. Apparently my feet are portals where energy exchange happens. My always cold feet were horrified at the idea.

She told me she saw something around Thanksgiving that was fun and full of fall colours. It hit me that I was planning a hiking trip with my oldest daughter that weekend.

“It is good you are going to have some fun because I sense an imbalance between your feminine and masculine sides. Your masculine side—your structure, and routine—is quite strong. The feminine side, the side that comes from nurturing, fun and self care, is stagnant.”

Once we finished talking, we flipped over my oracle card, and I laughed.

“What about that card makes you laugh?”

“It reminds me of my meditation journey. I am very new at it, and like I said before, not very good at it.”

“These things will come. I sense your curiosity. Keep trying the things that interest you, without getting overwhelmed, and give yourself some grace will doing it. A lot has happened to you in a short period of time.”

The next morning, I returned to meditation. Knowing which chakras were unbalanced gave me something to focus on. Afterwards, I went and stood in the grass. It was the true beginning of my practice.

This time I felt cold when I walked into his office. My nerves were shot. I had spent the last 6 days trying to make sense of my results. Chastising myself for only paying attention to the words I had been hoping to hear, and zoning out the rest.

“Amanda, I will be frank with you. These aren’t the results I was hoping for.”

You and me both, buddy.

“Your cancer risk with the discovery of a nodule is about 2-5%. With your results, it jumps to 20%.”

Say something. “Okay, so what is next?”

“Well we need to book you in for a follow up biopsy, and with a surgeon.”

“Why another biopsy? The sample was good. I don’t really want to go through that again if I don’t have to.”

“Well we could skip it, I understand the reasoning. Unfortunately, some surgeons require a second one before operating.”

I just wanted this thing gone.

“Of the people you have seen that presented like me, how many of them had cancer?”

“I don’t want to answer that. It won’t do you any good to be thinking ‘cancer, cancer, cancer’ over the next few months.”

He obviously didn’t know me. I would likely spend the next few weeks thinking “cancer” in several different languages.

That night I laid in bed. I felt my chest tighten, and my breathing become rapid and shallow. Anxiety was an old friend, but I could count the anxiety attacks I had in my life on one hand. I felt like I was teetering on the edge of one. My heart pounding, wondering if I should wake my husband. I closed my eyes and concentrated on my breath. I managed to keep it from becoming full blown. I knew I was in trouble though. My head was an absolute mess.

The next week was taxing. My boundaries were being tested. People wanted to talk to me, but I only had the energy to engage with a few. I knew who was good for me, and who wasn’t. I struggled to work. Sometimes cancelling home clients several times. My days were a blur, and I was exhausted.

I was lying by the pool when my endocrinologist’s receptionist called. She wanted to confirm my appointments. My biopsy wouldn’t be for 5 months.

“Your oncology appointment is scheduled for September 25th. Did you get that email.”

I froze.

“What did you say?”

“Your oncology appointment. Did you get the email?”

“Oncology? I was told I was seeing a surgeon.”

I didn’t understand. I didn’t definitively have cancer, did I?

“He is a head and neck microvascular reconstruction specialist.”

That little bastard. He hadn’t told me I was seeing an oncologist, he just kept saying surgeon. He had his receptionist do his dirty work, and now I felt like I’d been slapped across the face.”

It was starting to become a theme to have these encounters, and then call my husband to have him talk me down.

“It’s a good thing Amanda. He covers all the bases. This way, if it’s cancer, you have already met with an oncologist.”

I envied his level-headedness. If left to my own devices, I likely would have lit myself on fire, and jumped off a bridge. Not dramatic at all.

Now I was left waiting again, and I wasn’t sure my brain would survive it.

It was my daughter’s 12th birthday when I got the call. My physician had my results in her hand and was going to go through them with me the best she could. She emphasized that this was not her area of expertise, and ultimately my endocrinologist would provide the most clarity for me.

She started reading, and I found myself scanning her words.

“Abnormal cells…atypical appearance…irregular nuclei…crowded cells…sample was good…no signs of cancer.”

There. There it was. What I was waiting for.

“So it’s benign then?” I felt the rush of relief wash over me.

“No. It doesn’t say that anywhere.”

Buzzing started in my ears.

“I don’t understand. It says there are no signs of cancer.”

“Yes, but it also doesn’t clearly say benign anywhere. It says the pathology is undetermined.”

Good sample, pathology undetermined. The cells don’t look normal.

“So it’s not cancer, but it’s not-not cancer?”

She laughed a little.

“I guess you could say that. You will have to wait and see what your endocrinologist says.”

I felt myself travelling back to 13 years prior, the worst time of my life. I had miscarried 6 weeks before my Mother died, 4 days after my oldest daughter turned 2. It muddled her birthdays from then on. A dark cloud overhead.

I found myself feeling the same way now. Distracted. Putting on a happy front so I could celebrate with my child. Feeling the chill at the idea that now it could be my mortality staring back at me.

I called my husband as my heart pounded in my ears.

“Why couldn’t it have been benign? What does this even mean?”

I had been manifesting the word. Wasn’t that shit supposed to work? Had I not believed it hard enough?

I was crying. My gut was telling me that having a good sample that came back with undefined pathology, meant I was leaning towards something precancerous.

“Don’t worry. We need more information. Don’t get yourself upset.”

On the other side of my door was a girl who was excited about her birthday plans. It was going to be a long day.

Waiting 6 more days for more information was going to feel like a lifetime.

I felt like M had planted a seed. In those weeks I spent waiting for my results, I found myself trying to meditate, and searching for a reiki provider.

I relied on good old Facebook for something useful, for once. I posted in a local Moms group asking for reiki recommendations. My knowledge of reiki had been limited. I knew a few practitioners, I knew it was as about energy work, but that was about it. My mother had been given a recommendation to try it when she was diagnosed with cancer, but she got nothing from her treatment.

Several recommendations came through, and I ended up choosing one, and booking an appointment for the beginning of August.

In the meantime, I had decided to try meditation. I had a slew of holistic things on my list to narrow down. I had decided that if I might be sick, it was time to focus more on my emotional and mental wellbeing. I had been focused on physical health for so long, and had simply lost sight of anything else.

I put a pillow under my knees, laid down on my bed, and placed my lapis lazuli in the hollow of my throat. Closed my eyes, and focused on my breath, as the intrusive thoughts rolled in.

‘Should I be breathing deeply, or normally?’

‘Bob is sniffing at the door’

‘Focus on your results being benign. Almost everyone you’ve talked to had benign results, but someone makes up that 3-5%’

‘I don’t feel like making dinner’

‘I wonder if Trump has said anything stupid today. Of course he has, that is a guarantee’

Thoughts pinging off of each other like a ball in a pinball machine, all set to a singular track.

“It’s been one week since you looked at me Cocked your head to the side and said “I’m angry”

Hmmm hmmm hmmm

But it will still be two days till I say “I’m sorry””

I couldn’t remember all the words, and yet that Barenaked Ladies song played like a broken record. I opened my eyes and decided to end the session.

This wasn’t the first time my brain had betrayed me. I describe it as an obsolete desk top computer. 400 open tabs, likely a few viruses. The kind of computer you have to hold the off button down hard on, and force a manual shut off. When you turn it on the next day, you get a warning message letting you know it was shut down improperly. The added bonus is the midnight DJ with some very interesting song choices.

I’m a 40 something woman with anxiety, depression, and likely undiagnosed ADHD. Overly analytical with a side of intrusive thoughts to round out the madness. My brain is never silent. Not even for a moment. Why would I expect something different now?

As I walked out of my room, I spoke to my husband.

“Well that was awful.”

“What happened?”

“I tried meditating and a song wouldn’t stop playing in my head.”

“What was the song? Maybe it had lyrical significance.”

“Man, it was a Barenaked Ladies song. None of their songs have any lyrical significance.”

A few days later I decided to try again. Got myself comfortable and tried to concentrate on my breath.

“It’s been one week since you looked at me…”

“Don’t you dare!”

My brain was mocking me. Thinking about how I couldn’t get that song out of head before, prompted it to start up again. I decided to take a hiatus and see if I could find a solution. I had a determination to make it work, but I also believed I wouldn’t be able to do it.

My husband took the information about the throat chakra, and ran with it.

“There is a crystal that is affiliated with your throat chakra that I was reading about. It is blue, and is called lapis lazuli. Maybe we should get you some.”

“Where would we go to get something like that?”

Neither of us had a clue.

I went into work a few days later, and a regular of mine came in. A lovely lady from Mauritius, who I hadn’t realized was spiritual. I shared with her some of what was going on with me. I had seen her through some dark times. I told her about the crystal and that I wasn’t sure where to even start looking for them.

She lifted her head up off the table.

“Akasha’s Den”.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Akasha’s Den! It’s here in Oakville. It’s the only place I go to for crystals because their stuff is legitimate.”

I told my husband about it, and that weekend we drove over. I wasn’t sure what to expect. The store was quite large. In the back portion they had rooms for services and workshops. The store was filled with crystals, some on open display, others under lock and key. Oracle cards, incense, journals, and sound bowls lined the shelves. The place had a very distinctive, and pleasant smell.

We looked through the open displays, before heading to the counter. Behind the counter was Jess, with a vibrancy about her that was matched by the coloured streaks in her hair.

“H there. We are looking for a particular crystal called lapis lazuli. I am wanting it for throat chakra, particularly. Do you have any?”

Yes they did. Jess launched into all the different crystals that could aid the throat chakra, all of them in lovely shades of blue. She showed us them before taking us to the cabinet with the lapis.

I was looking for a round, smaller size that I pictured resting in hollow at base of my throat.

She pulled that size out and spread them across the counter for me to see which I was drawn to. I selected one to place on my body, and one to keep beside my bed.

We ended up taking home a few tumbles for ourselves and our daughters. Each having characteristics we thought would be helpful.

When we got home, I told my husband that I was intrigued by the crystals. He ended up buying me a crystal guide to learn about them more. That curiosity lead to signing up for a crystals course at the Den, and taking another step along the path I had suddenly found myself on.