Lifestyle of a modern spiritualist …

Dear Reader,

I’ve been shying away from writing this post for months now. Even in my darkest moments of despair when I could think of nothing other than sorrow, I knew there would be a time I would write this. I won’t go into the very specific details of everything just yet as I feel the story should be told in the most authentic way, allowing my feelings and intuition to guide us through the journey of my brother’s departure from this side to the other. However, I will say this, because of him my life has changed forever and because of our love, we will always remain connected and in contact, me on this side and he on the other.

I have countless stories to share about Carl and I. Some are exciting and seem unbelievable. Some are gut wrenching and raw. All of them are beautiful. The desire to write about our experience and do this work isn’t just to share the story, as healing as that may be. It’s to create a safe space to help others like him … like me, work through their grief with patience, vulnerability, and grace. It’s to provide answers to the questions that have haunted our nights and consumed our days. It’s to show you there’s more out there than our human minds could possibly fathom in this life time alone.

This work is also about empowerment and finding your way back to your inner self and at times your inner child. Carl’s passing not only left me devastated but it ripped me wide open, forcing myself to dig deep into the past and forgive myself for the things I did just to survive. In a lot of ways he and I are one and the same and in others completely the opposite. In this lifetime we are step brother and sister. In past lifetimes, who knows? Best friends? brothers? father and daughter? Even if our human mind can’t remember, our souls never forget. And I believe we remain connected to our loved ones not just in past lives or this lifetime but for many more to come.

I not only invite you, but I welcome you into my space for guidance with your healing journey. The goal is to share my stories in hopes that something I say resonates, causing you to dig deep inside for your own inner healing. I’m a human being, likely a person like you, with a past, who has lost themselves or someone they love and is simply looking for a lifeline. These stories are for you.

My relationship with Carl was anything but perfect, which is why when he left I shut down, feeling the judgements of others, assuming I didn’t have the right to be so devastatingly impacted and yet being physically sick with all the turmoil and confusion one feels when they lose someone they love like I love him. Carl was 6 months old, a cute, chubby baby when his father and my mother started dating. I was eleven, making him my first real life baby doll and giving me all the motherly feels. I carried him on my hip, fed him, changed him, stroked his eyebrows until he fell asleep. As he got a little older I would let him sit on my lap and act like he was driving my car. I’d take him to the movies to see all the Jim Carrey films, Ace Ventura Pet Detective was our favorite. Teenage Carl was a lot of fun with his dare devil antics and I’d like to think I was the cool older sister. What he couldn’t get away with with our parents, I would allow. Carl was also a smart ass which made him funny and charismatic. He had this kinda high pitched laugh he’d do, dropping his head down as his shoulders would rise. As we both got older we began to grow apart. Life’s circumstances, different beliefs, and sometimes family, caused a divide. He stayed in the area we grew up in and I took every chance given to get out. As adults we had a few ups and downs, egos getting the best of us. I spent a long time after he left revisiting every argument and terrible thing we’d ever said to each other. I dissected every conversation and wondered if he knew how much he was loved even in those harsh moments.

Carl’s addiction became known to me a couple years after my family and I moved to California. While I’d known he’d dabbled here and there a fall from a ladder at work injuring both ankles gave him a prescription to opioids and catapulted him on a journey that would eventually become his demise. It was during that time in his life leading up to his death that we reconnected. Long, late night conversations talking through childhood traumas we both endured created a safe space for him to open up to me. Sometimes he’d be full of shit and I’d call him out on it, he later told me how much he appreciated it.

The first few weeks of his leaving was spent lying in bed, going through old pictures, rereading every text between the two of us over the course of the past five years. I still do that from time to time and if you do too, it’s ok. I always hear, you have to feel it to heal it and going within was my initial response when those blurry first few weeks started to become reality. I don’t remember anything about the first ten days after his leaving. I say that only because I can pinpoint my first spiritual interaction with him. It was the day my husband went back to work and I was left home alone. My sister and her baby was flying here to San Diego so we could be together during this devasting time and I remember walking into the guest room and randomly sitting down in front of a large floor mirror. I saw my reflection and didn’t recognize myself. My eyes we hollowed out, red and dry. I looked like I had aged a thousand years. Then for some reason I simply can’t explain, I looked deep in my eyes and I said, “I don’t know how I’m going to do it Carl, but I promise you, I’m going to find a way for us to communicate.” And so our journey began …

This is the first post of many and I hope you stick around. You can find me on social media, instagram, and TikTok living my normal, spiritual life in sunny San Diego. If you’d like to meet in person or through zoom you can do so by booking one of my offerings through my website. If you simply have a question or something to share please feel free to reach out via email or the contact form on my website. I look forward to hearing from you and if you desire, assisting you through your healing journey.

And so it is,

R. Thorpe