Reflections Blog

The Truth About Cups

8/9/2025

Sometimes, you have to stop chasing people—just to see who notices, who comes back for you, and who keeps going without even realizing you’re gone.
We’re in a season of separation—not the rapture people were led to believe in, but a separation of frequencies. Everyone is tuning in to their own resonance, and not all of them will match yours. It’s also not always comfortable, but find what makes you happy.
Welcome others in—but don’t expect them to be happy inside your box. Let go of the need to control how people show up. Just let them be—so you can see who they truly are and how they move.

Not to change them, but to understand where they belong in your life and whether they support the frequency you’re trying to hold. Just one wrong person is all it takes to throw everything off—like driving 75 on the freeway with a flat tire. To put it in terms you can easily understand; one wrong note ruins the entire song.

Sometimes, we love people in spite of who they are and that is also okay. Be the mirror for them. Be the example—not in a “gotcha” kind of way, but in an “I see you” kind of way. We’re not measuring dicks here, we’re recognizing that not all have the same capacity to love. Not everyone’s love shows up like “mine” and we're not all on the same frequency.
And the weird thing is we always say we want a new life—but we keep trying to drag the old one with us without realizing it’s already a permanent part of you, in whatever shade it showed up wearing. There are many shades here in the world of shadows, and there is something to be learned about ourselves in every one of them.
I make it real simple when I try to explain this to people. Let's assume that my capacity to love is the size of a beach ball, and your capacity to love is the size of a baseball. I have realized that while it seems you gave less love than you took, I assume you handed me that whole baseball; you gave me everything you had to offer and it has to be enough. I have to believe you gave me everything that was mine, what was meant for me, and that alone is something to be grateful for.
We hear phrases like “My cup runneth over” or “You can’t pour from an empty cup.” But here’s what we don’t always consider—not all cups are the same size. Some people are walking around with teacups—delicate, small, easy to tip. Others are carrying pitchers, overflowing, always ready to give.
So when someone gives you all they have to offer, it might not fill your cup—but it may have emptied theirs. It has to be enough. The miracle is not in how much they gave, but that they gave from the fullest version of themselves they had access to. Love them for that.
Let me give you a little bit of the “Word”. In a world being controlled by forces so far removed from love, it’s a miracle that love still exists at all. And that miracle—that capacity to love—is Christ. That is the power of the Gods.

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The Suitcase

6/8/2025

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Somewhere along the path of my life, I developed the concept of “the suitcase”. The suitcase is, basically, the baggage I choose to carry along with me during the course of my life. I’m not sure where the idea came from, but I have had this mental suitcase for most of my conscious life. We all have a mental suitcase, and 1,440 times each day we are given an opportunity to decide what we want to put in there.

Now, keep in mind that the size of the suitcase is limited only by your imagination, and I keep mine fairly small as far as suitcases go. My suitcase is more like a carry-on. I see it clearly in my mind’s eye and it looks a lot like a case my grandmother had when I was growing up. Remember those old suitcases from grandma’s time? Mine is about 18” wide x 18” long x 8” deep, emerald green exterior, lined with white satin, and has the two fasteners on the front that pop open when you slide the fastener button outward. Remember? That’s my mental suitcase.

I can tell that some people have one of those old 1800’s steam trunks with all the little compartments and cubbies for storing stuff. Black metal with wood and leather accents and a strap so you can drag it along behind you. You can see the weight of it on them even if you can’t “see” their suitcase. I think they’re beautiful, those cases, but I don’t want that mental suitcase. So, I keep mine small and I sift through it on a regular basis, adding this, removing that.

I’m having to do that now, which is why I’m once again furiously tapping the keyboard keys, organizing my thoughts and the contents of that suitcase as I go, and bringing you along and into the process as well. Why? Because these are skills that I have developed to help me along the way and maybe, just maybe, something I say or do will resonate with you and help you too. So, let’s take a look into our suitcases today, together.

I am a collector. Some would say a hoarder. I collect all kinds of things for many different reasons. I got that from my mother. I am also perfectly capable of letting go of things that are cluttering up my space, making me feel closed in or weighed down, and that comes from my dad. It’s an interesting dichotomy and I embrace it because it has served me well over the years. I have had to let go of all, or almost all, of my earthly possessions so many times, whether by choice or from necessity, that I learned very quickly how to recognize what is important to me, and what is not. What serves me, and what hinders me. Admittedly, it has been a while since I looked into my suitcase.

I have collected so many treasures over the years. It is the love that lives within each of those treasures that I cherish the most, and it's the love that I wish to keep with me in its most pure and pristine form. Everything else must go. They’re not a true reflection of who I was, who I am now, or who I want to be in the future, so I don’t need them in my suitcase. My personal advice is to keep only those things that serve your highest good in your suitcase.

There is a good bit of fear tossed into mine along with its constant companion, disappointment. Fear of being hurt. Fear of loss. Fear of another disappointment. So many disappointments. We tend to hold on to those because we think we are protecting ourselves by doing so, but it’s not true. They’re very heavy and they tend to rattle around in my suitcase; the clanging of a ball and chain within the unyielding steel of prison bars.

What else do I have in here; trust issues. These remind me of the game of Jax. Remember jax from when we were kids? Throw them out on the table, bounce the little ball, and swipe up the jax in an increasingly complex manner until someone fails and someone else is a “winner”? I burned up many hours playing Jax with my sister when we were young.

Anyway, my suitcase is full of these trust issues that look like shiny, pretty, little stars in multiple colors, and I can put them into play at any time, but have you ever stepped on a jax? They’re sharp, and they hurt. She who juggles the most jax, as it turns out, isn’t the “winner” after all.

Now, the hardest part. The pocket that’s built into the inside of the lid. This pocket holds all those things I don’t want to look at every time I pop open my suitcase. The hidden things. Things I didn’t ask for but that other people have given to me, themselves so convinced of their value that I believed too. Illusionary trinkets that look like one thing but are actually something else. You know, like the rock that looks like Snoopy if you hold it just right, but is really, well, just a rock.

This pocket is also like that stash of gifts we keep for birthdays we forgot about until last minute or holiday guests who pop in unexpectedly. I often reach in there and gift these things to others without any real forethought. This pocket is like a magician's black bag because when you peer into its depths you never really know what you’ll find. Discarding them isn’t easy either because they’re covered in a very sticky substance that wants to stick to you like hot gum on the bottom of your shoe. So-called “failures”, for example.

There is really no such thing as a failure. There are only failed attempts. False starts that for one reason or another didn’t end as we had hoped. If you look closer, each one has intrinsic value. Maybe we didn’t have all the pertinent information in the beginning but once we received it we changed our course. That’s not a failure; that’s knowledge gained.

Perhaps we pursued something because it was presented to us as right, good, and honorable, but we came to the understanding that it wasn’t a good fit, after all. That’s not a failure; that is self love. It could be that you worked so hard, worked so long, with single-minded determination, to attain this or achieve that, and when you had done so realized it couldn’t sustain you. That’s the toughest one of all, but that’s not failure. That’s wisdom. At the end of the day, your so-called “failures” are really, in essence, growth.

Something else you might find in that pocket are self limiting beliefs. “I’m not good enough, strong enough, beautiful enough, smart enough.” You’re wrong. You are the physical manifestation of the most powerful, limitless force of nature and this world will bend to your will; if only you would believe. You are Source, in the flesh. You are also the culmination of the very best of countless generations of ancestors. You are that which they manifested!

“Only through struggle do we find things of value, and valuable things are always hard to obtain.” You’re wrong. The most valuable things are those freely given. They flow to us with ease and grace, gliding easily through the door of thankfulness. The trick is being open to receiving. The trick is believing you are worthy. The trick is recognizing the value of the gift you have been given.

“I’m only successful if I have a lot of “things” to impress other people. Pretty things, flashy things, expensive things.” You’re wrong. Less really is more. More freedom. More financial security. More space to just breathe. More time to be grateful, more time to appreciate, more time for thankfulness. More time to love yourself and others. More time to explore your world, the world within and the world without. More time for discovery; for seeking those things that fulfill you, bring you joy, make you whole. More time to dream, to meditate, to manifest. Here, in the midst of “less”, is where we find more of everything.

Don’t be afraid to dig around in the darkness of that pocket of questionable stuff. Shine your light in there, pull them out, and really look at them. Where did I even get that? Who “gifted” this to me without any real forethought? Why am I still carrying it around? Does it serve my highest good? Does it have any intrinsic value? Is it real? Is it true? 99.9% of the time, what’s in there, what we are afraid to really examine, is junk. Toss it and leave it where it lands. It’s not for you.

Now, all that is left in my suitcase are the things that I treasure. The love that I’ve shared with people. The magic of my babies, warm and safe in my arms. Memories of laughter, warm hugs, shared smiles. Side splitting belly laughs that took me by surprise. Thick warm socks after a cold, hard floor and the soft flannel shirt with the unfortunate hole.

The sense of big, wet, snowflakes falling into the stillness of the night, spotlighted by the glow of the moon while the rest of the world sleeps, missing the quiet beauty. The sound of fall leaves crackling under my feet as I wandered the wooded hills of my childhood home, the smell of wood burning stoves filling my nose. The freshness of a spring morning, honeysuckle wafting by on the breeze. An oasis of relief found under an ancient oak tree in the heat of a mid-western summer day.

The memory of standing at the bus stop on a cold winter morning, the air so crisp and so cold that it froze nose hairs and chapped cheeks. Yes, even that memory is now treasured. Just as treasured as hearing my mom call down to us that school was canceled, because now we can truly appreciate that moment of rushing back into the warm, safe haven of “home”; stomping the snow from our feet, flinging coats, gloves, hats, and scarves as we raced to gather around that wood stove, moods elevated, joy in our eyes as we discussed snow day plans. Suddenly free.

Memories from those snow day activities, when our world was young and our hearts were new are some of my favorite treasures. Memories of those I’ve encountered who’s eyes reflected back to me all that is beautiful about me. Other souls who feel so familiar and comforting, so beautiful and peaceful, loving to me then and still. Memories of a lover’s touch. Lessons that have been learned, the blessings from the pains, that guide us forward.

There is so much to be treasured from my time in this place and those are the things that I wish to keep in my suitcase. Those are the things I will take with me when I leave here. And, here’s the secret about those things. There is infinite space available in your suitcase for those things. They not only weigh nothing, but by some magical happenstance, they make us lighter.
So, how big is your “suitcase” and what are you keeping in there?

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The Truth About Cups

The Suitcase

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