Space Cooperating – Bridging the Paradigms: re-connecting people and the planet

My Dog Is Dying: The Real Life Crappy Choice Diary, Entry 16

April 17, 2012 by Robyn

my dying dog How do we walk that last mystery of life with our beloved animal companions? How does the human-animal bond end?

I write this as our mystery is over: I lost my dying dog, my beloved Murphy, on March 8, 2012. I continue with our diary because her life ran out before our story did, and our story matters. We lived it passionately and clearly: it is helping others deal with their own impending mysteries.

Murphy had splenic cancer: at least we’re pretty sure she did. On Dec. 26, 2011, I took her to the vet for a slight cough: that led to a diagnosis of bronchitis and anemia and infection, and finally to splenic cancer. A radiologist confirmed it on ultrasound, and on January 12, 2012, a surgical specialist in Seattle told me she was pretty certain it was cancer.

Splenic cancer. You don’t beat this cancer. Ever. You can only delay it. The specialist figured it had only been there a month (about the time I noticed a subtle difference in what I thought was progressing arthritis). It is unusual to find it before a crisis develops, but the end result is the same.

If it was cancer, Murphy would live six months with surgery and chemo, three months without.

If it wasn’t cancer (and three vets were now sure it was), it was still growing and would kill her if it wasn’t removed. The surgery itself might kill her.

How do you make these choices?

What in hell do you do?

Get the Facts

Some people say they don’t want to know if their beloved animal is dying.

I say my definition of a multi-species family is you’re lucky if you get to know what you’re dealing with. In Murphy’s case, the vets were pretty sure it was cancer, an aggressive cancer you never beat.

Our best advice here: sit down, write a list of questions, and fill in the blanks. Take it all to a trusted vet and go over it in detail.

I looked at the X-ray, read the report, participated in the actual ultrasound, had Murphy examined by a surgical specialist who had a lot of experience with it.

We looked hard at Murphy: at 13-1/2 she was old and arthritic, although mostly comfortable on Rimadyl. She had bronchitis, heart arrhythmia, and a mild heart murmur.

Surgery was possible but risky. She’d need several days in intensive care and about 10 days recovering before she could walk comfortably. We had stairs to negotiate and I am handicapped: I would simply not be able to provide her the level of care she’d need, so we’d have to hire help.

All possible, but was it necessary? Should we do it? Why or why not?

Murphy and I had a years-old deal: we’d come together in this lifetime, in a safe place, to heal. We’d done that. I’d promised her I wouldn’t ask her to do any more. This seemed like too much: for her and for us. But I’d go with her decision.

It wasn’t that easy, of course, because her decision was this: she believed her body was gradually breaking down, that she was dying anyway, and she believed she’d have more time if we did not operate.

What did the vets think?

Well, that’s part of the blessing, and the curse, isn’t it?

Get the Vet

We parted ways with our long-time vet because she insisted we do things her way.

“You tell the vet you want as much time with her as possible,” she said. Operate and remove it and do chemo.

What I heard: “Torture your dog to keep her with you a few months longer.”

What was really meant: “We force them to stay for our sake, disregarding the quality of their lives, and I the vet am the boss and you do what I say.”

So, bottom line: make sure you and your vet are on the same page. We hadn’t seen the vet we ended up with in years. He was there for us: calm, precise, balanced. He didn’t tell me what to do. He told me what it would look like, and left the decision to us: to me and Murphy. Where it belonged.

What do you do? Make sure you have a vet whose mindset matches yours. Stay informed. Run from anyone who insists that you should do what they want. It’s not their family: it’s yours.

Paternalism should die before we do.

Grace the Cat guards her sister's dreams

Get Support

Tell your friends and family what’s going on. You will end up making new friends and losing old ones. Both are fine. Death is part of living: if anyone in your circle can’t handle it, they can’t handle life. You don’t need them.

Ask for help. I knew there might be problems if Murphy went into crisis in the middle of the night and we needed help to get to the ER. Asking someone to be available to drive you is a big deal: emotionally and physically. Think about who in your circle could possibly help. Ask, but be clear that it’s strictly up to them, and make no judgments on who agrees, who ignores you, and who says no. And why. It’s a growth process all around.

Backup helps. I wouldn’t leave Murphy for more than a few hours those last 2-1/2 months: with a splenic tumor, a crisis could occur in an hour (ultimately, it did). Some people called and wanted to stay with the kids for a few hours, to give me a break. Excellent.

Remember: people are grieving with you, in their own way. Let them help. Let them bow out. Keep the lines open.

I am grateful for everyone who did or did not show up for us. I found a new level of community in the process.

How will you find yours?

Chart Your Course

I knew what we were facing. I focused on comfort and care. We used acupuncture and herbs (thank you, Darla Rewers, DVM, for greeting Murphy so cheerfully, picking up where we’d dropped off a few years before, and helping us with acupuncture, holistic remedies, and loving advice) and the good food and medications we were already using.

I looked at dying naturally and at euthanasia, and what the cancer would actually do to her.

I looked at hospice alternatives for animals and created my own: after all, I was not a stranger to death.

I was grateful that I’d spent so much time over the years learning about veterinary medicine and thinking about creating families with animals: I knew what I wanted my family life to look like, and I knew what my animals wanted it to be like.

I discussed this all with Murphy. And the rest of the family: Alki, my Cavalier boy, and Grace the Cat.

And then we lived our lives together: we walked the mystery, step by step.

We loved.

So here’s what you do: if you’re lucky enough to know the end is coming, find out as much as you can about what it will look like, and figure out how you can live through it so the only regret you have at the end is that you ran out of time. You’re the only one who knows what that will look like to you.

If you don’t know it’s happening, here’s what you do: you stop right now and make sure each day is one you’re grateful for. Live a full life with your animal family. There is no other way.

Hire an Intuitive

I am an intuitive: people pay me and my crystal partner, Fallon, to talk to things with them.

I was smart enough to hire someone else to talk with us.

That means I had someone talk with Murphy and with me regularly throughout the process. I could sit back and be the client: I could hear what Murphy thought and felt, and she could hear me, and a compassionate, objective, loving intuitive could be the bridge between us.

That intuitive is Debrae FireHawk. In the process she relived the loss of her own dog, which helped her as well.

With that support Murphy and I said goodbye to each other. We grieved losing each other. We cried. We accepted. At some point, she became excited about the new life she was moving towards, a bittersweet moment for me.

And then she died.

Filed Under: Human-Animal Bond Tagged With: animal care, animal communication, bridging species, cats, Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, dog care, dogs and dying, Fallon, human-animal bond, intuitive, intuitive communication, multi-species families, Space Cooperating

My Dog Is Dying: The Real Life Crappy Choice Diary, Entry 15

April 4, 2012 by Robyn

my dying dog How civilized are we, really?

As things stand in our society, grief is a reality largely reserved for humans. By humans.

My grief is not. Neither is my family’s.

I was at an expo last weekend in Portland, a place where people come together to celebrate and explore metaphysics, from crystals to healing arts to intuitive consultations. I met people who don’t put the kinds of limits on mindset that a large part of our society does. People whose minds are open to the possibility that there is more out there than human.

And that it is worthwhile.

I was there with my crystal partner, Fallon, doing intuitive consultations and teaching a workshop on space clearing, what I call Space Cooperating^SM.

In my work I talk about how we bridge paradigms by acknowledging that the world isn’t all about humans, but about all life together. The mindset that really works is the mindset that acknowledges that humans and all life are equals: that everything on our planet is alive, has a soul, is conscious, and has responsibility and free choice.

All life. From humans to animals to trees and rocks and volcanoes and weather systems.

Something happened at the expo last weekend.

Someone who works professionally as an intuitive, as I do, looked over at me, met my eyes, and immediately came over to me. Her face changed in the moment our eyes met. Simple human curiosity changed to loving compassion.

She came up to me and said. “You’ve recently lost your soul mate. I’m sorry for you.”

I felt my grief well up. Yes, I had just lost my soul mate, my beloved dog, Murphy. A complete stranger, an intuitive, had seen the loss written on me and offered condolences. When told, it didn’t matter to her that it was my dog I’d lost: what she acknowledged was how profound the loss was to me. Her understanding and compassion were based on a love of all life.

Somehow we humans are growing as a species. When I lost my beloved dog, Maggie, so many years ago, my family ridiculed my grief. I had to get on a plane and go visit friends who loved and honored her.

This time, love and support have come from everywhere: from long-time friends to new ones, from clients to strangers, in phone calls and emails and cards and gifts and visits. Complete strangers who find my blog and who are living the human-animal bond with animals as family members. Some of them are people who are struggling with their own loss, and finding community in grief.

This time, people understand.

Somewhat.

Truth is, some of the response have bewildered me. People who are long-time friends who haven’t bothered to call. People who are new friends who have, whose simple acceptance has given my grieving heart, and my family’s, space to try to find a new rhythm.

There are people who don’t understand and don’t try. The people I was with the day that I took Murphy to the vet and watched as a radiologist carefully examined her and showed me, on the ultrasound, what was going to kill my beloved. The day I learned that the mass they’d seen on an x-ray was most likely splenic cancer. The day I learned our days were numbered.

That was the day I was going through the motions of being a supportive friend and businesswoman, listening to two people bemoan their difficulties and annoyances and wondering what I was doing there. The day I was thinking of my family’s future, and trying to think plain thoughts about how I’d find someone to drive me and my dog to the ER in the middle of the night if Murphy went into crisis and had to be euthanized, and I might not be able to drive us.

The day both women turned to me and shouted, “Don’t call me for a dog.”

Truth is, it never occurred to me to consider either of them as potential help. I was simply brainstorming out loud.

The vehement response is still with me. What were they so afraid of that they had to shout it at me? What was lacking in them that they couldn’t simply say, “I’m sorry for you”?

Yes, in many ways we’ve matured as a society. Today, a perfect stranger can see grief on a stranger’s face and understand that losing an animal soul mate is every bit as devastating as losing a human one.

It’s just not always as socially acceptable.

I already knew that, as it did not occur to me to ask either of these people to help me, but respected their cool business heads enough to see what logical ideas would come to them as I grappled with the sure knowledge, only hours old, that my last days with Murphy were upon me. Nevertheless, their cold hostility shocked me, and still does.

I am grateful that this story shocks others who hear it. That what resonates with others is that, as advanced as our society supposedly is, we still aren’t really there.

We still don’t see all life as equal to humans.

Or that grief is not reserved for humans.

My surviving dog, Alki, and Grace the Cat grieve. I grieve. Others grieve with us. And some absolutely do not.

I wonder what that means. The people who refused to help when help wasn’t requested: were they just not ‘animal people,’ or were they just afraid to acknowledge grief?

Maybe they thought death would rub off on them.

Maybe animals aren’t good enough. After all, I’m expected to care about their children and spouses, and I do. I care about all life. I care about their families. They just did not care about mine.

Some few others do care.

We are the ones who will make a difference in the world. We live compassion. We live love. We can see what life with a soul mate can be like, whatever body it is in.

And what death does to us.

Grief is universal. It should unite us. Civilize us. Beyond species.

Will it?

Filed Under: Human-Animal Bond Tagged With: bridging species, cats, Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, dog care, dogs and dying, Fallon, family harmony, human-animal bond, intuitive communication, space clearing, Space Cooperating

What It Means to Talk with All Life

January 13, 2011 by Robyn

We can all talk with all life, from our food to our cars, animals to plants, businesses to homes, volcanoes to weather systems. Everything you can imagine—and many things you can’t—can speak with us. In fact, they are all already speaking to each other. In fact, the only ones who are not participating in an active, open dialogue with all life are humans. We are, so to speak, behind the curve, and have been for centuries.

Oh, Great, Another Spacey New Ager

I am not an airy fairy woo-wooey person. I am a cynic and a skeptic. I sometimes wonder why I am one of the people who can talk with other beings most of us had no idea could, or wanted, to talk with us. And were scary besides (like earthquakes and hurricanes). I think it’s because I also believe in the equality of all life, and am interested and respectful enough to have an open conversation with whatever wants to speak with me. I think it’s time for this ability to be taken seriously and shared with other humans, so we can regain an ability we’ve repressed for eons.

I believe that intuition and the ability to intuitively communicate is a practical, relevant ability that kept our ancestors alive. Like the abilities to see, hear, taste, touch, and smell, their intuition kept them alive when large prey animals were sneaking up on them: they ‘knew’ when they were about to become lunch. Humans that didn’t have that ability, well, got eaten, and their lack of intuitive ability got wiped out of the gene pool with them.

I am, essentially, a translator. I tell the stories of the beings who speak with me. I help other people speak with them, whether the beings are our businesses and homes, our cars, gardens or animals. I also speak with wild/domestic land and weather systems. That means I speak with beings like volcanoes and hurricanes. We can do this, and, in fact, we do when we are angry because a hurricane is coming, frightened of an earthquake, and awestruck by a steam explosion at Mount St. Helens.

The key is to speak as equals, to hear and to share what we hear.

That’s what I do.

Why Are People Just Now Speaking to All Life?

People like me are pioneers, like it or not. We have our work cut out for us: helping people understand that everything out there is alive and has an attitude to share with us, and that we can share with them, is daunting. We can do this work because of the wonderful, brave people who became animal communicators 30 years ago. They went public about speaking with the beings we are most intimate with: our animal companions. It was strange, then, to talk with an animal, but thanks to these people it is increasingly accepted. And many people are doing it.

Animal communicators paved the way for people like me to talk with other beings and not get locked up for it. They helped open a space that humans had forgotten about. Now that some of us are hearing and talking with these other beings, we’re stepping up to tell their stories and to help other people talk with them.

Is it strange? Yes, but if enough of us keep at it, it will become commonplace. Which it should be.

Yes, people do think I’m crazy. I keep going, because I’m not.

When people read my stories, work with me, or come to an event to meet me and my crystal partner, Fallon, they are just like me: skeptical, cynical, analytical, and curious. Sometimes they are reverential, because they’ve had their own amazing experiences with other beings, especially crystals. And they leave believing that it’s all possible and real because of the calm, respectful, interested, and matter-of-fact way we go about our work at Alchemy West.

Every time someone makes their own connection through us, every time we hear about their experiences, I know that risking going public with who I am and what I do is worth it.

So, now, what do you think?

Filed Under: Intuition Tagged With: creating community, intuitive, intuitive communication, intuitive consultation, space clearing, Space Cooperating

Talking with Our Businesses: The First Principle

January 13, 2011 by Robyn

I was surprised when I first spoke intuitively with a business. It just hadn’t occurred to me, even though I knew that everything is alive. Literally. A tricky part is how that reverberates in our lives, or, perhaps, whether we will allow it to.

For people the concept that other beings have something to say to us, the right to say it, and often need to, challenges the basic mindset that we’re the apex of civilization. We have different brains than animals, true, and someone once said to me that a home or a business doesn’t have a brain, so we’re better. I think it’s more like the human brain is designed to help our bodies survive and thrive as humans. Other beings don’t need that particular device, or need it in the same way we do. It makes them different, not inferior. Biology is destiny? Weirdly, sort of.

People often get hung up on the simple fact that we invented our cars, our homes, our businesses, and much of what surrounds us (like peanut butter cookies with chocolate chips or computers). Sometimes I’ll look at my Cavaliers and my cat and realize we invented them, too (and, of course, they invented themselves, especially cats!). People are good at winging it, and then imposing rules on what they end up with.

Because we invent things we think we’ve created them, in something approaching ‘divine’ fashion. This presumes, and assumes, inequality. But, birds build nests, ants build anthills, so why is a car or house any different? They are things we’ve decided we need to survive. So they come and help us do that. It really is that simple.

In the current state of the world we depend on our businesses to acquire the money to buy the things we need to survive, from food to shelter. Whether we work for someone else, or go out on our own as I do, we need our businesses.

And our businesses need us.

How My Business Was Born

It took me a long time to decide to combine my writing, editing, and intuitive work into one business. I wasn’t quite sure how it would come together; all I knew is that I needed to be patient, which is not my strength. (I believe meditation should take about 10 seconds, and I tend to do my intuitive work while doing other things—multi-tasking to the extreme!)

Eventually I created two separate websites under one corporation that needed to represent the earth paradigm, the reality that all life actively cooperates to create a healthy future for our evolving planet. If we invited all life to participate with us equally, we would learn how to honor a hurricane and a weed, our homes and our food, our animals and our communities. Each of us holds the fate of the world in our choice—for humans, it’s our choice to be stuck-up humans or equal citizens on the planet.

Fine, but what was my corporation’s name? How could I describe transforming our culture and re-connecting people and the planet in terms that aren’t tied to the past? How could it be modern yet linked to the traditions it came from—our human past? I didn’t know, but I finally realized that my business would know, so I asked it what its name was. And back it came: Alchemy West. Of course. People are afraid of alchemy, because they think of dark occult weirdnesses, but alchemy is change, transformation, and this kind of alchemy is new, which my business thinks of as ‘west,’ and because we’re in Seattle, which is almost as far west as you can go before you fall off the continent.

My next step was to create websites when I have stubbornly refused to have a relationship with my computer (yes, I’m human and I goof up like everybody else). It took me months to settle on what I needed, sit down and do it, and find the right people to help me. In the process I became much clearer about what I needed out of business: community. I support other people and their businesses, but they don’t always support me. It’s a lesson I will continue to learn, because I’m optimistic and often too trusting for my own good.

What I didn’t realize was that my business had its own ideas about how it wanted to work, and that the many other beings I work with actually expected to be a part of the decision-making process. When I tried to do things strictly my way, for all the usual reasons, like giving business to friends to support their businesses as well, it didn’t always work. In fact, several times the failures were so huge that everything collapsed around me. Including what I thought were friendships.

Part of the reason was that the beings I worked with, especially the business itself, absolutely refused to cooperate with some people, and there was no getting past that. Plus, most of the beings who are part of my community and the Alchemy West Committee are not human: they are animals, volcanoes, beaches, my home, my desk, guides, crystals, salt lamps, the list goes on (and, yes, my computer)! Try to get all those beings to agree on a logo or the words on a page!

We had our goofs, but we finally did it. It took over a year for Alchemy West to gel and for me to get brave enough to combine all my work into one website, and then to launch our online magazine, Bridging the Paradigms.

How Do We Talk with Our Businesses?

I help people talk with their businesses. Conversations include business direction, mutual concerns, shared growth. The focus is on how they grow and learn together.

No, I do not tell people how to make millions of dollars or handle marketing or organizational development. Yes, I have formal business training, including an MBA, but this is about building a new relationship, one that assumes you and your business are equal partners, even though you may very well have different agendas. It’s a new mindset.

And that’s how you start, with thinking about your business as an equal partner. What first comes to mind when you consider that?

Filed Under: Intuition Tagged With: creating community, inspiration, intuitive, intuitive business consultation, intuitive communication, intuitive consultation, space clearing, Space Cooperating

Talking with Our Homes: The First Principle

January 13, 2011 by Robyn

I always start at the beginning when I talk with people about intuitively communicating with anything, especially our homes.

That means we start with the earth paradigm, which acknowledges that all life, whatever its physical form, has a separate and distinct soul and personality, consciousness, equality, rights, responsibility, and free choice to do its work and to contribute to our conscious, self-aware, evolving planet. All life holds the fate of the world in its choice. Including our homes.

Our homes are living beings. The difference is, you live and sometimes work in them, so their needs are as intimate as yours. To you your home is part of your family; to your home, you are its family. Seen from the earth paradigm, this is at once an enormous responsibility and opportunity for people to authentically connect with their most intimate, private settings.

While it is rare for us to consciously consider our homes to be living beings, with their own opinions, we do offer them a level of unconscious understanding in the subtle ways we respond to them. For example, if you walk into a home and just know it’s yours, don’t think it’s all about you. The house is probably trying very hard to get your attention. (Note also that many homes are becoming vividly aware of themselves and are eagerly trying to attract anyone who can hear them—so if you’re willing to engage a home as an equal, you’ll have lots of volunteers!)

The same goes for paint colors and even dishes, furniture, and decorative items (much like feng shui). If you are wondering whether something belongs in your home, simply ask it. You never know what you’ll hear (and you may or may not like it).

House Hunting

Many homes actively search for their families. Ever visit an open house and feel welcomed? Or not? Of course, it’s partly your attitude in searching, but it’s also the house either looking for its family or desperately hanging on to its family and refusing to move on.

I’ve met both kinds of homes. When I first started hearing houses speak to me I thought I was looking for one to buy. I drove my real estate agent crazy going from place to place. She had intuitives in her family, and finally pointed out to me that something else was going on. By that time I could walk into a house and point out all its positives and negatives as I looked around the room, from the house’s aversion to a new family to its eagerness to share itself with a new one, sometimes mine. I also visited a house I was strongly pulled to, where my agent sent me in alone. Once inside, I realized the house was overwhelmed by mold, and had asked me to witness its death.

“Look,” another house shouted when I was in its basement, looking out over a large backyard. “I have a sink to wash the dogs in and a really big back yard.” At another house, on a calm, windless day, my agent walked freely through the front door, but it slammed abruptly in my face. She was ready to leave right then, but I insisted on going in to learn, intrigued to notice that it pointed out every defect. I thanked the house for sharing, told it I would not be buying it, and suggested it work closely with its family, since I had been told they were determined to move on.

I went to one open house, convinced it was mine because it had been calling me, only to walk through the front door and blurt out, “This isn’t my house, it doesn’t even want me. What am I doing here?” I glanced around and spotted a woman staring around her, star-struck. “Oh,” I said to my agent. “It’s her house.” If I had been more confident in what I was learning at the time, I would have walked up to her and told her she was in her house. Later, I realized that was exactly what the house had wanted: it knew I could hear houses speak, and it wanted me to help it find its new family.

Talking with a Home and Clearing It

When I work with a home or a business I usually conduct an intuitive communication session with it and the humans involved. This is a direct conversation between the house and its family, whether it is clearing the space or preparing the house for sale or rental. Sometimes it’s a means of letting go of each other, at others it’s renewal. These direct conversations are often surprising, as homes are rarely given the opportunity to speak directly to us.

Often a space cooperating session is also part of an intuitive communication session. It is not what people normally consider when they consult a feng shui or space clearing expert. It does help people and their homes live and work together comfortably and harmoniously.

In future posts I’ll write more about clearing a home while conducting an intuitive communication session with it, and what is unique about my work. But for now, have you communicated with your house? What was the most important thing you learned about it?

Filed Under: Intuition Tagged With: good businesses, intuitive, intuitive business consultation, intuitive communication, intuitive home consultation, space clearing, Space Cooperating

Space Clearing or Space Cooperating: The Difference Is Mindset

January 13, 2011 by Robyn

Many wonderful, capable, intuitive people offer space clearing.

I don’t. At least not the way I hear it described by others.

Space cooperating is, for now, the most accurate description for what I do together with my partner, the crystal Fallon.

The difference is mindset. I do my best to operate from the earth paradigm, where all life is equal. Many people operate from the human paradigm, which assumes that humans know best. Regardless.

From my intuitive work I know that everything is alive. Everything. Whether we’re human, animal, plant, volcano, hurricane, oil, ocean—whatever we are—we all have this in common: we are alive.

We are not one with all life. But we are all alive together.

And all life, whatever its physical form, has a separate and distinct soul and personality, consciousness, equality, rights, responsibility, and free choice to do its work. Together, all life can collaboratively build a healthy world.

Starting simply, with our homes, our businesses, and the land around us. Cooperatively.

Is It Cleared Space or Cowed Space?

Humans are used to taking charge. We’ve done some wonderful things, but we could improve (including me).

One place where this is obvious is in what a lot of people call space clearing. Yes, we can manipulate energy, but should we? Under what circumstances? And who has a say in what takes place?

I sometimes see spaces that have been ‘cleared’ and in which people claim to feel great. These spaces are often quite dense and heavy. I’m not sure why they feel great, because the space’s vibrancy has been blanketed, essentially cowed into submission, empty. I suspect that’s partly why many people like them: because our lives are so busy and stressful we somehow feel that being in an empty, blank space is a gigantic ‘time out.’

But the space isn’t vibrant. Which means the ‘time out’ isn’t helping people—or their homes.

I see it on all levels, from people dabbling in clearing their own space to energy workers with years of experience. They don’t mean to harm a space or hinder its development. They simply do the normal human thing that comes from living in a human paradigm: they act as if only human intention mattered.

Still, these people do wonderful work because they do care and they are acting to make a difference in the world, in their lives and in the lives of the people they do clearing work for. Most of them treat the space and their work with great care and love, and I honor them for it, and the beings they work with. They’ve made great contributions to their communities and the planet with their work, from feng shui to clearing to soul coaching, and we’re all better off because of them.

It’s just not the work that I do. That’s why I use the words space cooperating to describe it.

How My Work Is Different

Accepting that everything is alive also accepts that everything has attitude. Opinions. Concerns. Rights.

We all need to be heard. Especially the beings we attempt to clear without directly and equally involving them in the process. Generally they are quite surprised to be asked their opinion and permission to work with them, and the results are memorable—and productive.

In space cooperating I open a dialogue with the space and its people, giving them the opportunity to express their needs and wants and figure out how to co-exist, if possible. Sometimes a sale or move is necessary, and my job is to ease the transition and help all parties search out a new relationship, to separate, grieve, balance, and heal. Each session is different, presenting its own challenges and opportunities.

We then proceed to clear the space, in cooperation with it, using whatever has stepped forth to work that day: certainly my crystal partner, Fallon, other crystals, incense, bells, my Fallon Lavender-Salt mixture, music. Each session is different.

The key is that it all starts with choosing a mindset that accepts every being as an equal.

What Kinds of Spaces Need Clearing?

All the spaces we live and work in need to be clean. And balanced. Just like we do. Here are some reasons why you’d want a space cooperating session: