To Book a Session Visit Page: Bookings, Fees and Services

Posts tagged “memories

Psychic Sterling Sinclair Auracature and Poem, I Choose to Have a Good Day: When I wake up bothered by a possible past. November 26, 2014


Psychic Sterling Sinclair

Auracature and Poem,

I Choose to Have a Good Day:  

When I wake up bothered by a possible past.  

November 26, 2014

Psychic Sterling Sinclair Life Coach Medium Counselling Auracature Art  Madoc Tweed Belleville Choice Create a Good Day Positive Thinking Joy

 

I Choose to Have a Good Day

 

I woke up this morning with life considerations competing with possible youth outcomes.

Confusion did not contaminate my visions of the past.

Memories void of my recognition streamed past my eyes.

Do you ever wonder if life happened the way that you thought it happened?

It can be far easier to place guilt upon a ghost than upon a man.

If I cannot see what has been stripped from my sight, is it best not to look?

If you seek then you shall find.

So, why seek the things you hope not to find?

In our world and in this life we face down horrors and celebrate joys.

None can escape the truth of life dancing upon a knife’s edge.

If I were to see the terrible abyss, would joy fade from my sight?

Would I ever recover or simply stay lost?

Bad things will happen and good things will happen too.

To hide from the truth shall poison the ground upon which I choose to tread.

But to purposely search out the pain that is hidden deep down inside

Digs a bottomless well into which I could drown.

I look in the mirror.

I brush my teeth.

I go down the stairs.

I sing to the radio.

I look outside.

I see the fallen leaves glistening with dew.

I watch cotton ball clouds drift way up high.

A cool breeze turns my head.

My face is bathes by the warm, rising sun.

No matter my past.

No matter what may have been.

No matter what happened.

No matter all of that.

The world kept on living.

Today the future was once again born.

Whether I greet the good or meet the bad on this day, tomorrow will still be born.

Concerns for what was flee from the stage, well curtained in my mind.

Is it okay to let go?

Is it okay if it never was?

Does really matter?

Is it worth my time?

I look to the sky.

I reach to the heavens.

My day begins again.

Just because my waking moments processed mysteries of yesterday,

I did not have to be possessed by the fascination of pain.

The impossible quest for a dark curse of truth does not need to be my path.

I, in my conscious awareness, choose to step onto the green pastures of this day and jubilantly dance into the future.

The tricks of dreams.

The lures of demons.

The fragility of sleep.

They shall not guide this day.

I jump in the shower.

I stand dripping nude at the window.

I close my eyes.

I see buttercups, reflecting pools and pixie sticks.

I smell the scents of roses, sweet brandied pipe smoke, and thawing Christmas tree needles.

I hear my aunt sing, my puppy bark and my babies saying “Dadda.”

My life is once again awakened.

My life’s joy powerfully washes away my early moments of pontification.

When I was half asleep, my thoughts were hurtful and confused.

When fully awake I chose to restore joy in my life.

With the recollection of special, happy times, I choose to open my eyes one more time.

This time, my day begins with a smile.

I choose to have a good day.

by Sterling Sinclair 11/26/14


Psychic Sterling Sinclair: Life’s Thrift Shop and Memories Worth Keeping – Remember, It’s time to Move Forward! August 17, 2014


Psychic Sterling Sinclair:

Life’s Thrift Shop and Memories Worth Keeping

Remember, It’s time to Move Forward! 

August 17, 2014

I must confess, I am a thrift store junkie.  I even owned one a while back.  What astounds me is what I find on the shelves.  Discarded cherished memories of special times and life events get there because someone decided to throw them out.  A thrift shop is not a place where junk is thrown; it is a place where memories exist.

I cannot help but think that life is like that sometimes.  Without memories, where does life go?

It is not uncommon to find cups, plaques, plates, shirts and ornaments that were bought on trips from around the world.  Sometimes they are dated 20-50 years back and still labeled with special messages and the names of people who went on the trips.  To someone, these souvenirs represented fun and happy times that were meant to be preserved.  But something happened in their lives that resulted in these items being tossed.

I also find an abundance of photos filled photo albums, collectors’ plates and ornaments as well as entire sets of fine bone china, and 25th / 40th/ 50th/ 60th anniversary plates, cups, picture frames with pictures still in them and tea stained tea services.  Sometimes, all of the anniversary years show up on the shelf on the same day – like someone simply threw out many years of marriage.  The previous owner of these items collected them, cared for them and likely met fond memories every time he or she thought of them or saw them.   Then, something happened in their lives and their memory triggers were discarded.

A thrift shop is not a junk graveyard but rather an inexpensive depository of memories.

As a psychic and life coach I meet many people who are going through difficult times.  When we have a divorce, for example, the relationship becomes clouded.  We look at years and years of bad times and have a tendency to overlook the good times.  Sometimes, we overlook years of good times because of one bad time.  The negative darkens the mind and the positive is forced deep back into the shadows.  We forget how we felt at one time for our partner.  We prevent ourselves from acknowledging that we had really good times at times.  The ridding ourselves of those memories, do not free us but rather trap us in the negative.  We inevitably prevent ourselves from living.

I often hear, “I was so stupid to fall in love with him.”  Do not do that yourself.  Love is a strange thing.  When we fall in love, we fall in love.  When difficult times hit, we punish ourselves by stripping the last notions of our lives from us.  We lose identity and personal value.  We forget who we are.  We simply toss them to the side – sometimes hoping for another person to pick them up and them home.

When loved ones die, the people remaining grieve in their way.  Some people grieve by immediately cleansing.  Some people hold on.  Some people get angry and clean up.  Some people do nothing.  We all do it differently but one thing remains the same – we face blurred memories of life while we are grieving.  We make decisions that we would normally not make, like donating our mother’s international bell collection or sand art dogs to a thrift shop.  Some of us decide to throw out “junk,” “clutter,” and stuff just because that is what it is in that mindset.

Recall the old saying, “Don’t throw out the baby with the bathwater?”  Well this is an example.

The bathwater goes out in our lives and the babies end up buried in junk piles or carelessly heaped upon thrift shop shelves yearning for someone to adopt them and take home and care for them again.  Once they are gone, the memory triggers are gone too.

In a state of hurt, anger, frustration, sadness, or confusion, we look at our lives and start ridding ourselves of the painful.  In that process, we often accidentally rid ourselves the most special memory triggers in life.

Be careful not to discard special, love filled times when you are cleansing yourself of the negative.  not let the negative blanket your life.

As a reader of memories and as a communicant with the other side, I truly believe that it is the living memories of fond times that keep us moving forward and our passed loved ones actively rejoicing in our lives, minds and hearts.  Our memories transcend death.

A fond memory may very well be the most special thing you have.

By preserving your special memories, the good times in life help us move forward.  We are reminded that we are/were loved.  We see life through a positive light.

Sometimes, a memory trigger, no matter how small and seemingly insignificant, may to us, be a priceless gift worth keeping.

Psychic Sterling Sinclair Auracature Master Oracle Psychic Reading Life Coach Coaching Ontario Canada Madoc Tweed Marmora Belleville Peterborough Kingston Toronto Ottawa Auracature Arrow Memory Life August

Today, remember good times.

I send you my love.

S


Psychic Sterling Sinclair: A Muddy Puddle is Your Playground – Take a Chance – Live Your Life Today! August 15, 2014


Psychic Sterling Sinclair:

A Muddy Puddle is Your Playground

Take a Chance – Live Your Life Today!

August 15, 2014

I admit it.  Even as a grown man, one of my most enjoyable things to do is to jump into puddles.  Yep.  Just like Christopher Robin. Well – usually without my raincoat and rubbers on that is.

Another thing that makes me feel alive is standing as naked as I can be with my arms outstretched as the rain pelts my skin and washes me clean.

This morning upon waking, I received a cherished childhood memory in the form of a vision.  I was mud sliding in the rain.  What is mud sliding?  Huh?  You mean you haven’t tried it.  I’m sure some of you have.

I grew up in a family with very little money.  When we were small, Dad worked all the time and when we were old enough to shovel dirt and rake gravel, we worked.  It would seem that all I knew to do was work.  Well sometimes work can be fun.  Sometimes what we find fun at work is fun when we get home too.

You see, my parents were building contractors.  They built custom homes.  I don’t remember life as a boy without there being a big dirt pile somewhere nearby.  When it would rain, the clay in the dirt pile would become like grease.  Almost a filthy slime that caked on your bodies and if you stood long enough in one spot, the piles would swallow your shoes like a hungry mountain at lunch time.

Getting dirty was all part of the fun.  Wondering if something beneath the surface would pop out and grab us was part of the thrill.  I grew to look forward to the rain.

When we stayed at the trailer in the summer, my mom would kick us outside to play in the rain.  This is where my childhood vision comes in.  The driveway to the trailer was a few hundred meters long and was gaveled every few years.  But since it was clay beneath the gravel, heavy trucks would push the gravel down the driveway’s throat and the driveway would gladly swallow it up.  Soon, the driveway would return to our own slip ’n slide – a 1000 foot long slime-covered path for us to follow.

But as boys, we didn’t really care to follow a path.  We found it our duty to turn that path of life into our personal playground.

With Speedo bathing suits coving our bottoms, we would take turns running as fast as our bare feet would carry us and when we’d meet a puddle, head first we would dive.  With arms fully stretched and rounded bellies out, we skimmed through the mud with ease.  The joy to freely make the most out of our day on this slick path of life was worth wiping the mud off to see the blood dripping from our knees, palms and chests.

You see, in those muddy puddles, there were always random gravel shards hidden beneath the surface of the water.  They would scrape and cut without warning.  Sometimes they would and sometimes they wouldn’t, but that didn’t stop us; it was all part of the thrill.  We were boys.  The world was ours on that that muddy path and we embraced it.  Sure it hurt at times, but those memories of pure innocent joy to this day get me through when the chips are down.

This morning my vision was a close up of me pushing the muddy water with my face as I was sliding head first through it.  What accompanied that vision was the memory that no matter how dirty I was, no matter how  scraped and bleeding I was, no matter the how badly it hurt, the rain would fall gently down and before I knew it, I was washed clean, restored and ready to go again.

I can’t walk by a puddle to this day without that boy spirit driving me into the mud again.  I have ruined so many pair of good shoes because of it, but restoration of self and knowing that I am still alive is so worth the price of stained leather and a wet socks.

I share this because many of us face our puddles today.  We stand and look onto the murky surface and consider ways around because the unknown hides before us.  We even consider turning back or finding another path.  I mean what are people going to think of us if we show up bruised and covered in filth?

Today, consider your muddy, slippery path as your playground.  Today, don’t consider the puddle in the road an obstacle but as an invitation to splash around.  Dive into that puddle head first and take a chance.  Live your life.  In that moment, it will matter not what other people think or even if the scars will be remain.  In that moment, you will know that nothing stopped you from living life your way.

In that moment,

You will know one thing…

 

You are ALIVE!

Psychic Sterling Sinclair Auracature Master Oracle Psychic Reading Life Coach Coaching Ontario Canada Madoc Tweed Marmora Belleville Peterborough Kingston Toronto Ottawa Auracature Arrow Live Love Life August

Let’s jump through puddles together.

Love to you,

S


Psychic Sterling Sinclair Aquarian Full Moon Reflection of 911, God and Purpose – “Looking Through the Eyes of Our Neighbors,” July 23, 2013


Psychic Sterling Sinclair

Aquarian Full Moon

Reflection of 911, God and Purpose

July 23, 2013

 

The Aquarian moon will tend to inspire, resurrect and free pain, matters of internal judgment and self-debilitating concepts.  The process will reveal memories that we may have thought were dealt with over time.

This morning, after awaking early under the glow of the Aquarian full moon, previously recessed emotions and memories of 911 flooded to the surface of my mind, gushing tears from hidden places in my body.

I am Canadian and I live outside of a rural community but I was still affected by the happenings of that day and the days thereafter.

That day, I was in Toronto at seminary.  When I first heard about the towers, I thought it had to have been a joke.  I was in a shock-like state.  Then progressively reality set in.  While wondering if Toronto would be next, my professors who had trained in NY were scattered, trying to do their jobs to train and educate future congregational ministers.  Their faith had been shaken, their confidence in God put into question, their concern for friends in NY flooding their abilities to think.

When I got home, the congregation that I was serving at the time and the community was distressed.  Something had hit home too.

As an empath who is sensitive to mass trauma, I could not run from the visions of terror and fleeing spirits.  There was no spiritual training for me to deal with my telepathy and such congregational despair.

At that point in my life, people looked at me for consolation while I sought a way to control what was happening to me too.

The things that hit my community were fear, panic and questionings of faith.

We sat together.  We held each other.  We supported each other.  We shared with each other.  We sang together.  We prayed together.  We gathered together.  We cried together.

Over the next weeks, I sat with people and spokes words of love while the initial anxieties dissipated.

Over the next weeks, when I would close my eyes, I saw visions of unspeakable horror – as if I were looking through the eyes of people who died that day.  But through their eyes in the visions, I never saw God.

When I went to my last ordination interview, I was asked by the interviewing committee a seemingly justifiable and easy to answer question and when they asked it, I broke down and began uncontrollably crying.  The question was – “Where do you see God.”  During my 911 experience – I did not see God anywhere.

Through my tears, I responded the following to the answer, “A homeless man curled up by a building looked up and into my eyes.  He said, “Bless You.  I will pray for you.  God loves you.”  Through the eyes of an elderly homeless man on the streets in Toronto, I saw God.”

Through his despair, cold, and hunger, he reached out to me and restored my spirit.

Through his eyes, I saw hope.  Through his eyes, I saw God.  Through his eyes, I saw life.

This morning as I sat under the glow of the Aquarian full moon, I am reminded that we do not live alone.  We are all part of a greater community.  Even within our tragic depths of suffering, we can reach another person – restoring their drive to move forward.

No matter your faith stance or belief system, today, look into someone’s eyes and think and/or say “I love you.  We are here together.  I believe in you.”  You just might change someone’s life and help them move forward.

Love,

S

 

 


Psychic Sterling Sinclair Ascension Reflection of the Day, “The Full Moon and Father Issues,” January 25, 2013


Psychic Sterling Sinclair Ascension Reflection of the Day

“The Full Moon and Father Issues”

January 25, 2013

The full moon is accompanied with father issues.  Memories and reconsiderations of life with our fathers and life as fathers swell within our hearts and minds.

Why do we wrestle with such matters?

During this magnificent moon phase, matters of life and death, beginnings and endings, reflections and future projects juggle in our collective circus we call life.  We are sent forward during this moon – sent forward with a suitcase left for us to fill.

What of our fathers will we pack and what will leave behind?

Like some other spiritual leaders, extraterrestrial abductees, dreamy romantics with undying desires to build a home, I have father issues that have been instrumental in the formation of my life.

A few years ago, I seemingly stumbled upon a common link between clients of this collective.  They either did not know the confirmed identity of their birth fathers, their birth fathers had died while they were young, or their relationship with their birth fathers was either distant or non-existent.

Some male created them, yet they were left outside without that male to nurture and usher them along.

These people, predominantly male, had grown missing a piece but yet had found a way of building a piece to replace it.  A puzzle with a replaced misshapen piece still makes a misshapen puzzle.

To these people, the misshapen puzzle was not misshapen.

Their puzzles and my puzzle were us, our identities and always being shaped and reshaped.

No matter the father situation, in the recesses of the mind there continues to exist an acknowledgement of the father’s participation in the person’s development.

Even to people who perceive that an angel had created them in some way, they have had notions of the angel has watched over them or punished them and steered them or left them in some way or other.

As we move through this new moon, we are reminded of who we are.  Yes we may be new in this New Age.  Yes we may have ascended during this ascension, but we still are here because we were at least once created.  Our creation, we shall not escape, nor are we asked by the universe to escape it.

As we move forward as new people, with new purpose, with new hopes, with new dreams, we must not forget that we are here and how we got here.

We let go of pain, resentment, upset and blame, we take what we can that acknowledges who we are.

Be careful not to throw out your passport to live while packing your luggage of life.

Be patient and understanding today.

This day really matters.

Love, S