New England is entering early spring—the trees stand bare but for a few buds reaching their skeletal arms to the sky. I imagine dressing them all in winter coats, hats, and mittens until the warmer weather arrives. For another week, we’ll be able to watch the birds frantically spinning their nests.
I enjoy this behind-the-scenes peek at the work in progress. A reminder that we only see the results of labor and not what goes into building a home, a career, a life.
I share my process often, wanting to dispel the idea that connection with the spirit world is only for a select few. The spirit world is for everyone. I try to keep it real when it comes to having a business where your energy is your currency. Managing relationships, finances, and a creative process is always challenging, but most days, it feels worth it.
I worry I sometimes fail to share my struggles, especially when dealing with things that can’t be shared, like parenting or my kids. Parenting is the full-time job I have that I hardly ever include in my writing because I value my kids' privacy.
The last few weeks have been immensely hard. Everyone is okay, but I alternate between moments of groundlessness and desperation for everything I’m unable to do and everything I can’t control.
Loving other people is committing to letting go—over and over again—and coming to terms with the grief of “I can’t fix this.”
Years ago, I belonged to a support group for parents of teen boys with ASD, and the facilitator had a mug that said, “World’s okay-est Mom.” I’ve forgotten her name, but I remember that mug like a warm hug—like gentle permission to just be doing my best. Being in that group was the first time I ever walked into a room and thought, oh, these are my people. I’m not sure I’d feel that way now that I know myself a bit better, but at the time, it was a relief to be in the presence of honest conversation.
I feel that same relief from my clients and mediumship students. I am good at holding space for people to be vulnerable. I have learned to convey in just a few words that time in my presence doesn’t require striving or presentation—it is a time to simply be.
Don't we all need these spaces?
Some days, it feels like so much work to be alive and caring for myself. I wonder how long I will be able to keep it up, and I’ve been wondering this since I was old enough to wonder. My mind will dance from gratitude for a clear sky and the sun warming my face to “How many more mornings will I be able to get up and do all of this.”
I often wonder what giving up would look like—laying in bed, perhaps?
I ask the spirit world about giving up, and they say:
Living fully requires us to give up. Surrender and release everything that feels like it cannot be released. To turn it all over. They tell me to remember the time I’ve lived through extreme groundlessness, felt that untethered floating sense, and how when I was able to act from a place of nothing to lose and nothing to fear, I was soaring in my power for the first time. How powerful that space truly was. Giving up is a gift you can give yourself if you realize you’re not alone. That is what all of the signs are for—guiding you, urging you on. The signs are not there to say, “Don’t worry, everything will be easy, and it will all work out.” They are there to say, “Keep going. You are right where you need to be.”
I need this reminder about signs, and perhaps you do as well.
While writing this, Jubilee demanded to be taken outside, and a pair of cardinals were sitting in our front yard—the male, round cherry red, and the female, rusty brown. They didn’t fly away even as a bouncing puppy approached them.
I felt a relief. Does this mean everything is going to be resolved easily and effortlessly?
No, but I will get through it. I will find the way.
I remember the words from Spirit. The signs are not there to say, “Don’t worry, everything will be easy.” They are there to say, “Keep going.”
A few years ago, I was driving home from visiting a girlfriend. I was feeling so elated to finally be in a queer relationship, bursting with validation, possibility, and the promise of a new life. I stopped to get gas, and across the street was a store with the same name as my then-girlfriend.
I stood there pumping gas, looking at the sign lit up, and felt the presence of the universe guiding me. That relationship turned into a toxic mess before gracefully fizzling out, but in that moment, I was doing what I needed to do. I would meet my wife a year later.
All steps bring us to where we are now.
Giving up means being open to it, working out another way beyond what we’ve imagined for ourselves. Surrendering to find the way.
With love,
Sheryl
P.S. A note to those interested: My next Mediumship Mentorship starts May 1st. Get all the details and grab your spot, there are just a few left.
absolutely beautiful. thank you for sharing with us. 💙 the realization that it doesn't actually get easier - we don't unlock some special code that makes all the pain and badness go away!! - is kind of like a small slap in the face when it happens. and yet we do realize that we can survive it all, we are guided through it all, and we recognize that there will be gifts throughout it all. here's to keeping going 💙
😭😭😭😭😭 pure magic, always. Thank you Sheryl 🐦🪧💫