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È un sogno essere qui. Vieni nel cuore dei Caraibi messicani. Inserisci la data del tuo check-in e del tuo check-out qui sotto e prenota il tuo soggiorno. Possiamo solo promettervi grandi momenti e vacanze indimenticabili con noi.
Chiudi
È un sogno essere qui. Vieni nel cuore dei Caraibi messicani. Inserisci la data del tuo check-in e del tuo check-out qui sotto e prenota il tuo soggiorno. Possiamo solo promettervi grandi momenti e vacanze indimenticabili con noi.
According to Carl Gustav Jung, having one's own psychic wounds produces the best type of healer, such as the mythological immortal centaur Chiron, who endured an incurable wound and dedicated his life to healing. But does experiencing your own suffering necessarily make you want to be of service? Or would you simply project your own wounds onto others?
My mother will tell you I was wandering the halls (and different floors, much to her horror) of our apartment complex as soon as I could walk, in order to ‘bring people joy’. This is back in Poland, in the early 1980s with communism controlling our entire existence: poverty, social unrest and misery had been part of our lives for decades. Little me knew the people needed to smile. My family was then torn apart, as my father and I left to seek refuge in Italy, from where my parents hoped to immigrate the family across the globe. It took 3 years of separation, anguish and despair, for the whole family to be finally reunited - in Australia.
However, Australia was not the land of opportunity they had hoped for. Alienated, financially destroyed and separated from family and community. Needless to say, this was not a nice environment to be brought up in. I dreamt of running away. At night, I would tell my little sister stories and set the intention of a life we would live one day, far, far away.
But all along I was searching for something. Searching for meaning, for purpose, for more; and I found it in God. Being of the Roman Catholic faith I was told, those who suffer will receive salvation and glory. The suffering I endured was bestowed upon me but I had the power to ease the suffering of others, so I volunteered with the church and I loved being able to make a difference. I was sponsored to represent our Parish at the Youth Pilgrimage across Europe. On this life changing opportunity, I lost God.
By eighteen, I had developed peptic ulcers, endometriosis and was diagnosed with clinical depression. I was constantly sick, tired and anaemic. But I got into university and went to live on campus. While my family went from bad to worse and finally fell apart.
From the ground up, my life began, as me.
I met a nice fellow, finished university, got a job in the suburbs and we started a family.
I had everything that little me dreamed of.
I was deliriously happy.
We were building our own story. I was a young mum to three of the most astonishing humans. I wanted it all: to keep studying, keep working and keep finding myself. I was exhausted, but I was grateful.
My middle one is a typical middle child – beautiful, social, loud and needy. She is incredibly talented at everything from music, to sport to art. She is our fire and our lifeforce. But she falls ill a lot. Broken bones a lot. We spend a lot of time in and out of the hospital. Then as Covid creeps in, she develops Anorexia Nervosa and we spend the next two years fighting. She is incredible and we nurse her to full recovery. The experience is traumatising and exhausting for us all. But we are proud.
At the tender age of fifteen and a half, she is tragically and fatally injured in an accident.
Our world is destroyed. We are unimaginably broken beyond words, beyond comprehension.
I hate the word bereaved.
But my children are my world, they are my reason for breathing, but now I am the mother who has to hold her babies through nights of heartbroken tears, through the silence, through the indescribable pain and still be able to help them dream of a better tomorrow. There are no guidelines on how to get through this so as always, I trust my intuition, one breath at a time, one foot in front of the other. As a mother you know your children, you feel your children, you are connected to your children. But where is my little girl? Because I still feel her with all of my soul.
I once again turn to God. God, as the universal energy that’s at the heart of creation. I meditate and I journal, I work with and learn from world renowned mediums, I learn about soul planning, I take up studies in the Akashic Records, and for my own healing I see a Reiki Master and then complete my levels, I undertake a Holistic Counselling course, breathwork, crystal bowl sound healing training and become qualified as a Spinal Energetics and Kundalini practitioner.
I connect with people of all ages, beliefs and backgrounds. It becomes more and more apparent that we are all searching for ‘something’ and everyone has a story - no one is perfect, no one is immune from trauma, loss and pain. But the holistic understanding and sense of community has been lost and we just need the guidance to the wisdom we all hold within. Life can be hard, can be really hard but with an open mind and a kind heart we can learn and heal and support each other though our own individual journeys. Energy work is powerful, it is significant and in many cases it is life changing.