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What Blessings Are You "Getting Away With"?

I've just returned from 6 weeks in my homelands in Washington State. It was the first time I've seen my family in 21 months and I experienced a range of emotions while I was there. I was also struggling with guilt at having moved so far away and with a deep, grievous homesickness.

I've kept the homesickness at bay for years, but this trip home opened the flood gates. Part of my spiritual growth has included working with my ancestors and I think that accounted for some of my weepiness: My home is also the home of my ancestors-- 40,000 years worth of ancestors. Give or take a millennium.

When we flew back to Costa Rica last week, I was a mess. It had never been so hard for me to leave home. Growing up, I was the kid who wanted to learn her tribal language. I dreamt of being an activist within the community. I wanted to go to ceremonies, participate in them and even lead them. But I was also the kid who wanted to travel far far away. I wanted to explore other worlds and cultures. First, I moved two hours away to get a bachelor degree. Then, I moved across the U.S. and to Spain, following my first husband. Then I moved to the Southwest for a master's degree. With my master's degree in hand I thought finally I can go home and learn the language. Participate in ceremony . . . and then I met Andy and found myself committed to him, our children and his (our) farm in Costa Rica . . . for life.

Last week, July 13th, was also my birthday and I always try a new sort of reading or healing technique for my birthday. This year, at the behest of my friend Lis from Little Fox Tarot, I booked an Ancestral Reading from Andrew with The Hermit's Lamp (love that name). In the session, I bumbled and cried and snorted while he listened and interjected messages from the Ancestors as well as a bit of life coaching. One of the things Andrew pointed out was that I kept using the phrase "I feel so lucky to be here but . . ." He asked me to go deeper into why I felt lucky and I bumbled around a bit before he added his two cents (paraphrased of course):

"Why do you think you and Andy are together? Why do you think you have a magical story? The ancestors brought you together. We're talking hundreds of years of scheming and planning. Your ancestors want you in Costa Rica. Your ancestors want you in your homelands. This IS the plan. You talk as if you're getting away with something, as if you don't deserve your magical life, but you worked harder than anyone. You listened."

And whoosh. Everything came into place. I did listen. I listened to my soul and to my dreams when they told me to leave my first marriage. I listened to my heart and the synchronicities when they led me to Costa Rica for the first time. I listened when my gut told me to trust the stranger who wanted to pick me up at the airport and I listened when the souls of my children came through in a dream and announced the adventure we'd be having together. (you can read my multi-part series on this divorce-love-babies-divine-intervention story beginning here)

I super listened. With all of my senses.

I'm not getting away with anything. I haven't gotten more than I deserve. These are the blessings (and hardships) of this lifetime. And I know, without a doubt, that if I had not listened, I'd be in some city somewhere, aching for a life in another world.

I'm still listening.

Now, I'm curious to know: what blessings are you "getting away with" ? How have you listened to divine guidance through life changes? I'd love it if you shared in the comments!

And if you'd like to learn how to listen to divine guidance, how to tune into it when you need it the most, all of my courses are currently 50% off.

There's The Course On Dreams as divine guidance, there's a no-nonsense, un-fluffy course on the Womb and Lunar Wisdom and how to tap into those cycles for divine guidance, and there's my course on Working With Your Ancestors. Sale price is already reflected in pricing.

***This is the last time these courses will be offered in their current format. This is the last time you'll be able to purchase the Dream Course in one-go (I'm going to split it into a beginner's and an advanced course). And this is the last time the Womb and Lunar course will be offered in pdf (I'm moving it to a webinar-style series). The ancestor course is likely to be upgraded as well.

Sale ends at 12pm Mountain Time on Thursday, July 20, 2017.

Click here to join A Course On Dreams for only $125!

Click here to join the Womb and Lunar Wisdom Course for only $49!

Click here to learn how to Work With Your Ancestors for only $17.50!


In love and sacred darkness,


Dreaming As Meditation

At this point in my life, I am not a "sit for 20 minutes and OMMMMM" kind of mediator. I've said it before, but I'm also not a yogi. I can forsee, however, both "traditional" meditation and yoga being very valuable and enjoyable to me when I'm older-- like kids are out of the house and I may or may not be a widow-- older.

That said, there are many ways I seek to obtain the benefits of yoga-and-meditation . . . without doing yoga and meditation.

Dreaming is one of them.

Realizing dreaming is a form of meditation went right along with everything else about dreaming: I didn't appreciate it until I lost it when I became a mother. I got very, very, little sleep the first 8 months of my eldest son's life. When he turned a year old, I was just beginning to turn a corner within myself. I was sleeping more, feeling better and had lost 50 of the 60 pounds of pregnancy weight. And then I accidentally became pregnant again.

When Arlo was born 20 months after my first son, Cuen, I was thrown back into sleepless nights, a unrecognizable (but oh-so-powerful) body, an barely anytime to complete a thought, let alone a book or an article. Dreaming was a thing of the past. You've probably heard this story before. It's how I came to create the DIVINA journal.

But it wasn't until recently, now that Arlo is a month shy of turning three, that I began using dreaming as meditation again. My boys have begun to wake up early and head straight downstairs to play or to spend time with their dad, who is always up with the sunrise, if not a few minutes before. They no longer rush into my room to snuggle or demand my attention-- at least not on a daily basis. On these days when they are content in one another's attentions, I find myself slipping in and out of the liminal space between waking and dreaming. That space where your outside surroundings begin to blend with your dreamscape. This is the space where powerful dream messages or revelations can occur. It feels good. It feels . . . dreamy. Safe. warm. It can be addictive and hard to actually wake up!

Here's how I do it:

I usually am awoken momentarily by someone or something. As I decide I can afford to go back to sleep for a bit, I start scanning my memory for any dreams from the night before. I want to remember them. If I can find a dream, I latch onto it and begin to replay it in my mind, analyzing it as I go, and then I slip back into the dream-- with a little more conscious awareness than I did the first time I had the dream. This allows me to learn more, to experience more, or just rest more in the world of the dream. It is, for me, meditation.

If I can't find a dream to slip back into, I just keep scanning my memory and soon I'm in the same space but I may be inside an actual memory or inside a new dream that is being created on the spot. Sometimes it's both. Or all three.

But it's less about what is going on in my mental movie theater and more about the mental and emotional state I'm in: calm, peaceful, intrigued.

This is also a great tip for how to get into a lucid dream if you're into that sort of thing!

One of my favorite things about dreaming as spiritual practice is that YOU ARE DOING IT ANYWAY. With just a few small efforts and a little bit of attention, you can easily turn your dreams into a spiritual practice and as a way to commune with the Divine.

Give it a go and tell me about on Instagram! @thecopperscarab


In love and sacred darkness,


image source

Chapter 6: Big Changes Bring Big Dreams (and synchronicities)

After I returned to the states from Costa Rica, I wrapped up my marriage (finalized the divorce) and I wrapped up grad school (got my diploma). I was contemplating a move to Seattle but having a hard time finding a job. So, like any good mystic-in-training, I got a psychic reading.

"Wait to move until after this coming winter (2010-2011). Seattle is a good fit for you but be alert. If something comes along really magical and lucky-- if something drops into your lap-- go ahead and act on it . . ."

Well, it was now March, 2011 and I had plans to move to Seattle in June. I also had a ticket to Costa Rica. I had decided to go back for three weeks, the place where I had truly stepped into myself, and sort of complete the circle before I got a job and would have to ask for permission to take a vacation.

The only thing I had left to do was work up the guts to contact a certain redheaded Costa Rican to let him know I was going to be back in the country and to see if he wanted to make good on our date. But it had been two years since I’d met him, and I’d only met him for Pete’s sake. We spent just a few hours, total, in one another’s presence and we’d had one conversation. Each time I thought about finding my old travel journal and looking up his email address I stopped myself by reasoning that he stood out to me only because I had been on vacation; it was unlikely that he even remembered me. After all, as a tour guide, he met tourists everyday. And I hadn’t even heard from him since that day. That probably meant he had a girlfriend by now. It would probably be better to just leave it alone and let the story exist as a sweet what-could-have-been rather than risk rejection forever.

But the feeling that I should contact Andy wouldn’t go away. In fact, as my trip came closer the feeling only became stronger. One night, a few weeks before my flight was scheduled to Costa Rica, I decided that “tomorrow I will find my old travel journal, find Andy's email address and email him!"

I opened my laptop the next morning and discovered, startlingly, that I wouldn’t be needing my old travel journal after all . . .


On Mon, Mar 28, 2011 at 6:34 AM, Andy wrote:

Hola Darla! How are you? Do you remember me?

On Mon, Mar 28, 2011 at 8:26 AM, Darla wrote:

Andy! Wow, you must be a mind reader—I’ve been thinking about emailing you for a few weeks now. I’m actually coming back to Costa Rica in three weeks! Do we still have a dancing date?

On Tue, March 29, 2011 at 9:54 PM, Andy wrote:

Wow I cannot believe this! Really, you’ll be here in three weeks? That makes me very happy. You’ve been on my mind a lot lately and so I decided that I would email you. I’ve been practicing a lot in order to dance with you :)

What time and day do you get to Costa Rica? I will pick you up at the airport if you’ll let me!

On Wed, March 30, 2011 at 10:29 PM, Darla wrote:

I’d love to be picked up at the airport! I’ll send you my flight itinerary, but warning: my flight is going to arrive very, very, early in the morning.

I get to Costa Rica on April 18th and will be in the country for three weeks. I have friends on the Caribbean to meet up with too so what is your schedule like? When/what would be best for our date?


On Thur, March 31, 2011 at 7:16 AM, Andy wrote:

Don’t worry, I like the early morning. Just tell me the hour and I’ll be there! I think a good plan is that you come up to the mountains and stay at my lodge and then I can escort you to the Caribbean, too! If you’d like.

I like flirting with you ;) Guapa.

I woke up and just KNEW that it was time to email you—it was like fate was telling me to email you . . .

Being in touch with Andy again opened a flood of dream wisdom. In the span of a few short weeks, I had several BIG dreams. These dreams all pointed to something big changing and shifting in my life and I had no doubt being reunited with Andy was part of this shift and part of the reason why my spiritual support team was sending me BIG dream after BIG dream.



I became lucid as I was zooming through the cosmos, rushing to get back to my body. Stars and galaxies zoomed past me but I barely noticed. I had a laser sharp focus-- my body needed me.
I wasn't traveling alone either; two orbs of light zoomed along next to me. They thought all of this was funny and were trying to distract me from my sudden serious demeanor. I swatted at them like flies.

Meanwhile, back in my bedroom in New Mexico, I was coughing in my sleep and trying to wake up to take a drink of water. I could barely open my eyes to see that the sun cresting over the Sandia mountains. Dawn.

My attention snaps back to the cosmos. I'm almost back to my body. Hurry, hurry, hurry. How did this happen? My companions are full on taunting me at this point. They're a little miffed that our adventure had been interrupted but they can't help but tease me either-- "Haha! Look who has a body they have to get back to!", they sing. They think my predicament is hilarious and take the opportunity to remind me that they were, literally, free spirits. No bodies to get back to for them. Not yet anyway.

Phew! I've made it back to my body, just in time.

I finally manage to sit up. My throat is dry and the coughing is starting to make me feel raw. I feel my awareness come back in quick layers. I see two small orbs of light hovering over me and my bed, their laughter echoing in my ears. The more I wake up, the more they, and their laughter, fade. I try to get up and walk over to my desk where I've left a glass of water. However, I'm not completely back in my body and my knees give out under me. I fall to the floor and can't stand up. I begin to drag myself towards the desk and that damn glass of water, coughing all the way. In between coughs I start laughing. This is funny.

By the time I cross the room to my desk I'm feeling more myself and am able to stand. I take a drink of water and quench my parched throat.

I walked to the kitchen where my roommate was making coffee.

"How'd you sleep?" She asked, cheerily.

"Great!," I replied. "I think I just met my unborn children . . . "

April 18th, 2011

I couldn’t believe it. After one chance meeting and two years of no contact, I was flying to Costa Rica to see a man who had been thinking about me as much as I had been thinking about him. And after three weeks of increasingly flirtatious emails there were many ways that I had pictured the moment at the airport when Andy and I would first kiss.

I’d drop my bags and run towards him, jumping into his muscular arms while he kissed me deeply in the rain (oh wait, that’s The Notebook), or I’d exit the airport, my hair much thicker sultrier then it actually is and my t-shirt much lower and tighter than it ever really is, and there he’d be, waiting for me. Leaning against his car all Ryan Gosling-like (oops. Still The Notebook). He’d pull me close and penetrate me with his gaze before tangling his hands up in my hair and pulling me in for a long, deep, passionate kiss . . . or, or . . .

No matter how it went down I was sure of one thing: there was never going to be a more perfect first kiss. Not even in Hollywood. The sky was going to fall down and the entire world would shudder when our lips finally met.

Only, it didn't.

You know that guy that hangs out at airports in other countries and pesters you to let him “help” you with your luggage/get you a taxi/pick your nose for you— things you can manage all by yourself thankyouverymuch? And when you brush him off he pouts and tries to guilt you into paying him simply for being a pest? You know the guy.

Airport Guy.


That son of a . . .