Energy Shared, Not Always Gained

Today I was reminded of the many ways in which energy is shared, and how I have stayed so – asleep to it all.


Though one of my favorite stories/movies is Like Water for Chocolate, and though I have always cooked with the intention to share loving energy (if I’m in a foul mood I will stop any and all food preparation, I do believe the energy can be imparted this way) I was awakened today to how much I still ignore the possibility that I too receive this energy – not just send it out.


If you haven’t ever watched the movie or read the book, Like Water for Chocolate is about a woman who is in love, but unable to marry her lover (it’s a bit more complicated than this of course) and through her passions felt while cooking shares these energies with all who eat her food – “Tita’s strong emotions become infused into her cooking, and she unintentionally begins to affect the people around her through the food she prepares.” (As the wiki so succinctly puts it)

My husband has stated for some time, and will often act on it, that he won’t eat food made from an unhappy chef/cook because the food just doesn’t taste right to him because of the energy shared while cooking.

But I have wandered in a bit of a fog about this as it applies to myself. Until this morning.

I had two dreams that I recall that were not mine – this might sound a bit strange but, it’s become rather clear to me at times that the dreams coming through are not always .. meant for me (the simplest way to put it). These two dreams in particular were seen through the chef that prepared the food I ate last night, and were strongly involved in his family details. They were very interesting and beautiful, but I knew they were not mine.

When I woke up I acknowledged these dreams but moved on to my other dreams, one in particular had me all wrapped up in layers of meaning and thought contemplation that I didn’t even catch on to just what having those dreams meant.

I hadn’t really shielded myself after my time with my counselor/waking guide/therapist in any way. And had left myself completely open to taking in this energy. Thankfully this energy was a very warm, loving energy to have consumed and processed over night!


However sleepwalking through my day, not paying attention to this little, blip of a warning I found myself in a completely different frame of mind after lunch. Once again the thoughts coming to me, were not mine to lay claim to. This was very clear.

And while I know that eating certain foods does affect my moods, when the “moods” come through with images and clear emotion that doesn’t match my own I know something else has come in to play.

I’m not entirely certain the energy this afternoon came from the chef that cooked my food, it could have been the server, it could have been the barista, it could have been someone I was sitting close to.

It brought home how very little I work with, in any way, energy shields – I feel very .. lacking in this ability for some reason, and it usually takes a strong reminder such as today, to get me to work on that subject.

I have, for decades now, tried so hard to simply block it ALL out that now that I’m intentionally opening up once again I’m finding myself .. well, uneducated in some very key areas. And the many shield visualizations/meditations I’ve tried out just haven’t felt like they clicked completely, so I tend to ignore them completely.


Which is perhaps not the healthiest way to go about this. I don’t know if I need to work on the visualization, or find a new one that sinks in fully.

I do know that our energy is shared in some truly powerful ways, and though we often deny it, we always share with others. It’s just catching the how we do it, not that we do it – that we do it is undeniable (though we may try), how we do it is a fantastic lesson in life.

Even in short emails, two word text messages, brief phone conversations, glances on the street, or simply a thought – a beam of energy sent in to the universe, can be imbued with layers of beautiful, powerful, and sometimes unhealthy, energy.

Though we may think we did nothing of the sort, we’ve actually sent of and shared an immense amount of energy.

I’m thankful for the two lovely dreams last night, but I’m also thankful for the reminder to awake, and learn to take in carefully, and shield properly  energy of all kinds. Also, to adjust my own energy further, so that what I send out feels a whole lot better than some of what I take in!

And that we are, truly, so much more than “just” what we eat. (even science has proved this one)


The Ghosts we Leave Behind


Today as I was walking home from the grocery store, I saw down the sidewalk a woman standing next to a car with a dog on a leash. The dog was holding himself as far away from the car as possible, pulling at the leash – for what reasons I do not know.

I crossed the street and passed the car, looking over briefly, wondering if they were still standing there, and who had won the apparent battle.

They had disappeared, whether they made it in to the car (I couldn’t see) or headed in to the house, perhaps they went around the corner, walking faster than I fathomed they would, I don’t know where they went to.

But their departure from my own world; swift and sudden, I heard no noise of doors opening or shoes walking over leaves, left me feeling as though they’d been nothing but ghosts left behind, my vision of them just a false memory. There was a sense of a mirage.

I realized that so often that’s all we are, that’s all we offer.

That for some brief moment we make an impression, somehow, someway, and then we move on – and we leave behind the ghost of who we were at that moment. For no matter how hard we try, or how long we yearn for it at times, we can and will never go back to that moment EXACTLY as we were at that moment.

We are changed just by taking a single step, by breathing in and out another breath, by the thought we have one moment to the next.

And I wonder at all the Ghosts I’ve left behind. The smiles I gave, the tears I shared, the snarky comments I made, the documents I wrote up, the dogs I walked, the stories I told.

Of all the moments I’ve wished I could go back to. Places I called home, that I dreamed of returning to one day. People I knew, memories we created, shared. Times I’ve wished I could relive, if ever so briefly, touch on that ghost of a moment again.

I think of how my family and friends talk of my hometown, of other towns, in such wistful voices – “oh, but that was back then, it used to be so wonderful”. How they remember a Ghost Town. A place that is ever-changing and will never be exactly as it was then, on that day when they were 17 and the sun was out and the world seemed so perfect (although I wonder at our memories sometimes, selective to put it mildly).

Though I miss so many things in the past, places I’ve lived, people & animals I’ve loved, paths I’ve walked, snow that falls, and rain that sings me to sleep. They are all just ghosts, memories I have of moments that touched me, that changed me. And though I may long to go back, somehow, magically to just that point in time, what I would go back to would be as it is now – not as I remember it.

Ghosts are not just spirits left behind once the body dies, Ghosts are bits of our souls, bits of the energy of the Divine universe, that hang forever in a sort of limbo. Like a spider web hanging in the corner of our lives, catching moments forever, trapping them as they are then, not as they will be.

I believe it’s so important to appreciate the moment as it is, because while we may look back at the Ghosts in our past, they will forever be just that, in our past. And we, as we are now, are moving from this moment on. Living with those Ghosts can seem appealing, we can forget that we are capable of creating an even better moment, now.

I’ve had people tell me they miss the person I was, and there are others, that they love who I’ve become even more than who I was.

Yet, whatever, whomever, they recall is really just a Ghost, I’ve left behind.

Words we’re afraid of – Todays word: Psychic


There are some words I’ve noticed that bring up reactions in others, in ways I wouldn’t always think possible.

Even words like Love, Hope, Dreams, Spirituality, can bring up emotions that at first glance are quite fearful, afraid, hurt and unpleasant. Our feelings can go in quite the opposite direction – we fear Love, we feel there is no Hope, our Dreams seem useless and Spirituality is akin to ditziness or obsession.

Recently I was dancing around the word Psychic, as I have for much of my life. This may not seem like a word such as Love or Hope, but it is a simple word that has a very distinct reaction for many people. And as I was pondering this last week I came across another writer who felt the same way, a reference to not liking “psychics” or those that profess themselves to be Psychic.

It wasn’t because of the person themselves, but the word, Psychic.

adjective: psychic
  1. 1.
    relating to or denoting faculties or phenomena that are apparently inexplicable by natural laws, esp. involving telepathy or clairvoyance.
    “psychic powers”
    synonyms: supernatural, paranormal, otherworldly, supernormal, preternatural, metaphysical, extrasensory, magic, magical, mystical, mystic, occult More

    “psychic powers”
    clairvoyant, telepathic, having second sight, having a sixth sense
    “I’m not psychic”
    • (of a person) appearing or considered to have powers of telepathy or clairvoyance.
      “I could sense it—I must be psychic”
  2. 2.
    of or relating to the soul or mind.
    “he dulled his psychic pain with gin”
    synonyms: emotional, spiritual, inner; More

    antonyms: physical
noun: psychic; plural noun: psychics
  1. 1.
    a person considered or claiming to have psychic powers; a medium.
    synonyms: clairvoyant, fortune teller, crystal-gazer;

I’ve grown up with a very eclectic background, Psychics were friends and family members.  Though at times this didn’t mesh with my own observations, or .. psychic vibrations. In fact I watched most of those that named themselves Psychic be ridiculed by those they loved, and often respond to their own fears in such a way that I shied away from the subject entirely.

One of my long time favorite sites is: . Yet, right there in the page name, it says secret. And if you read any of the other folks posts on her site you’ll see she isn’t alone, many people are “secret” about their Psychic nature.

I’ve realized over the years it isn’t the person we have an issue with, usually. It’s the word, Psychic. Change it to “She’s a Medium, or a Channel” and the response, though perhaps still iffy, is less agressively negative.

And I’ve come to believe that it is the idea, often blown up by movies and books, that what we hold secret within ourselves might be fully witnessed by another human being. This Psychic might be able to see our deepest, darkest longings, desires, fears, cravings, and know us as we are.

This terrifies most people, for whatever reason(s) we believe we are inherantly broken inside and are scared of what happens when the rest of the world finds out. We put on makeup, clothes, get our nails done, hair done, eat a certain way, gain weight, lose weight, workout, tone up – all to present an image to others, that we’re ok, that everything is fine, I blend in, right?

But a Psychic, might be able to pick up on who really hides behind the masks. And then what? Well, that’s different for each person.

My mother prefers the word Empath, to Psychic, or so I’ve noticed in our conversations. And many of the women (especially) in my family have been.. well, Psychic – or Medium, or Channel, or.. Empaths. Few of them have talked about it openly and this has led to a real pain in the family and in the women.

I grew up hearing stories, with a sense of ghost stories around a campfire, these are the spooooky tales of the family. They weren’t embraced, or even really investigated. My great-grandmother would use playing cards as tarot cards (it’s how it was often hidden along the centuries) and give dead on accurate readings, she was even a member of a very well known spiritual practice, yet this was hardly talked about, if ever, until after she died.

Unfortunately as a child I didn’t know how to separate my own thoughts and feelings from those of others, I didn’t understand that what was popping in to my head wasn’t always mine to lay claim to. This is a very confusing world, but add in other peoples thoughts and feelings and it’s downright suffocating.

I was terrified that everyone else was psychic and must know what was going on in my head – this must be why they treated me the way they did, looked at me the way they did, thought the things they did, or hurt me the way they did. They must know what’s inside and punish me for it. (Isn’t everyone psychic?)

What I often ran from was the label I received as a child of Psychic, many friends and family told me, my mother, the rest of the family, that I was psychic, and powerful. I didn’t feel powerful, and I certainly didn’t want to feel more of what was going on around me – I spent most of my life blocking everything else out.

I believe most people have Psychic senses, but through their own pain and fears (much learned through childhood and other peoples pain and fear) they have blocked this other sense of knowing, of feeling, out. Sometimes it seems easier to believe we are all alone, in whatever is going on.

We are not alone, just sometimes, lonely.

It’s only been this year that I’ve really, actively, acknowledged and worked on clarifying what is my energy and what is anothers – and sometimes this isn’t even energy from someone/some being living.

Yet I don’t know that in waking hours, person to person, I would regularly use the word, Psychic. My therapist/healer/waking guide prefers the term Medium or channel. My Mother, Empath.

For me?

I’m a Psychic, a Medium, a Channel, an Empath and a Conduit. I don’t claim any super abilities such as the man that claimed he could stop a train with his powers, and I won’t judge you as we pass for your thoughts or feelings, I won’t try to force you to believe in me, or yourself, however… I will allow myself to be as I have always been, just without the mask more often than not.

Which will entail a lot of learning and growth – my biggest issue recently has been how to communicate in waking hours messages I get in my dreams, and from others in my dreams. How do you approach someone with such a subject?

“Hi, you don’t know me but I dreamed your name and information you have for me, can we talk?”

“Hi, I know we haven’t talked in years but your recently deceased father just came to me in a dream and said he has a message for you.”

“Hi, we’ve hardly talked since we were kids, but I dreamed of a terrible accident, how, and when. With all the details and news stories attached. Don’t go here on this date, or drive in this car…”

Obviously, I have to work on communication a bit.

And stop being afraid of the words.

Veronica Yem

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