Author: Kathy Milano

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Filling my Pockets

Everywhere I look, there’s worthwhile work to be done. 

Our oceans are filled with oil spills and plastic garbage.  Our atmosphere is polluted and forests are disappearing at an alarming rate.  Worldwide,  we’re grappling with a pandemic.  Adults are losing jobs and unable to care for their families.  People of all ages are sick, lonely, dying, and afraid. Our country is divided on so many issues. 

People everywhere are filled with rage, despair, insecurity, sadness, hunger, and fear.

Everywhere I look, I see opportunities for worthwhile work. Important activism. Creative solutions. Helping hands. Witnessing our world leads me to speculate:  What to do?  What to do?  What skills are required?  What is the focus of my worthwhile work?

Overwhelmed by the magnitude of the questions and the need, I choose to sit still. 

Really still.  I wondered about the work I already do. And the worthwhile work that may be calling to me across the noise of my busy life.  “I thinked and thinked” as Winnie the Pooh would say.  And then, I didn’t think any more.  I guess you could say that I just “be-ed.”  In this state of beingness, a thought emerged: 

“If I could fill my pockets with only two things, I would carry Love in my right pocket and Kindness in my left.”  

I realized how these qualities help Life flow more easily for myself and others.  So, I pulled on my favorite jeans, stuffed Love and Kindness in my front pockets and headed out the door. 

Actions guided by Love and Kindness worked with people of every age, ethnicity and gender, across all walks of life.  They even worked on me. They worked in nature – pristine and damaged.  They worked across the internet and within the inner net.  These tools worked.  Although sometimes, I forgot to stuff my pockets. 

On those days, I walked under a cloud. Miserly in my misery until I ran across some kind, loving soul with pockets overflowing.

And I was helped to remember the power of love and kindness, applied flexibly and consistently throughout the day. Over time, I stuffed my pockets with Clarity and Wisdom, Fearlessness and Ingenuity, Humility and Grace, and the ability to Laugh and Cry with friends and strangers.  Along the way, I forgot the original question. I just chose to be Love and Kindness or whatever quality was called forth from me in the moment. 

It’s not an exact science, but it seems to work for me. 

Until I forget to fill my pockets. That’s where you come in. Your love, kindness, courage, and ingenuity helps me a lot. Thanks for that. And keep it flowing.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

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Lessons from a Blimp.

Many years ago, I was invited to take a ride in the Blockbuster blimp for my birthday. 

Yup.  That many years ago.  When renting video tapes was a thing. Arriving at a small airport in Northeast Philadelphia, I was startled by the size of the huge bullet-shaped “balloon.” Six strong men struggled to hold the blimp steady via long ropes. My friend yelled out, “This is going to be a hell of a ride!”

I saw an inconceivably small oval cockpit hanging beneath this floating behemoth.

I decided the butterflies in my stomach were from excitement as we squeezed into our seats.  Since it was my birthday, I had the front seat next to the pilot.  Lucky me. In a flash, those strong men were waving as our little engine chugged us forward.  It was surreal.

I thought of the Chitty Chitty Bang Bang movie while watching neighborhoods glide beneath us.

My husband’s seatbelt wasn’t secure and our gracious host in the miniature back seat wasn’t much help.  “No worries” said the pilot as he reached back to adjust the belt.  No worries?  The nose of the blimp moved rapidly toward the ground, giving me a full appreciation for the term, “nosedive.” 

Those butterflies weren’t only in my stomach anymore.

The pilot turned back and casually righted the blimp.  “See, nothing to worry about.”  Funny guy.  I breathed a deep sigh of relief. Immediately that familiar sensation of nausea came over me.  It never crossed my mind that a lifetime of motion sickness within all moving vehicles might extend to a blimp ride. I immediately got into management mode as I relaxed my body, set my gaze forward, and began breathing deeply.  Placing myself in an aware trance state, I focused the delight of flying.

“Kathy! Take a look. Your husband is turning green.”

Apparently we shared an affinity for blimp sickness.  Well, that man was on his own.  The pilot suggested they open a window. In a blimp? Good grief.  The backseat duo couldn’t get the damned window open, so the pilot reached back and battled with the sticky window. 

Another nosedive while moving through rough wind currents.

Happy birthday to me. I quietly scanned for an airsick bag.  Nothing.  As fresh air blew through our tiny capsule, I made a quick decision. I was gonna totally enjoy this novel experience. I decided my butterflies found it thrilling. After all, how often do you float over neighborhoods, rivers, and highways? I even snapped a photo of Philadelphia before we were turned away from the restricted city air space.

I gratefully realized I was halfway through my birthday adventure without losing my cookies.

My celebration was interrupted when the pilot asked if we were interested in heading to Willow Grove to see if we could fly in the air show.  Since I didn’t think I’d be flying fighter jets in the future, might as well try to show up in a blimp.  When else would I get a chance to be in an air show? 

Choosing to focus on the wonder of this otherworldly journey helped manage my discomfort.

I was hanging on by a thread when we got the message to “stay put” in case we could fit in the lineup. We’d been in the friendly skies nearing two hours and still had to make it back.  By the way, the back seat was doing just fine with their breezy window.  Enjoying some history and a tour of the grand estates in a ritzy area of town.

I’d love to tell you that we were the star of the show, but the Blockbuster Airship didn’t make the cut. 

All that extra travel for nothing!  Or was it? Reflecting on this gift of flight, I’m grateful I hadn’t recalled my motion sickness before we arrived. Or knew what a long, uncomfortable experience I’d have. I’m certainly glad I didn’t know anything about hanging in a mini cocoon under a gas filled balloon. Nor about nosedives and open windows.

All that knowledge would have definitely led me to worry and hesitation.

Which would have been an absolute waste of time and disrupted my birthday excitement. I learned motion sickness exists in the air and on the ground. And so does delight. As above, so below.  It all depends what you chose to focus upon.  Truth be told, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

In hindsight, the blimp was a walk in the park compared to the time I jumped out of an airplane. 

But, that’s another story entirely.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

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Talking to Angels

Have you been talking to Angels?

Yeah, me too.  How’s that going? 

(That’s a real question.)

I really wonder what it’s like for you when you chat with the Angels.  I’d love to know the details. The Who, What About, When, How, How often and What happens type of details.  I’d love to know how they respond and how you know it’s them.    

I want to know what doesn’t happen.  Where it doesn’t work, when you doubt (them, you), when you forget them, when they remind you. When they disappoint you.  Or you them.

(Spoiler alert. That last option just isn’t a possibility.  Ever.)  

I want to know all of it.  So, email me.  I’ll read it. I’ll send you a guided meditation as a thank you.  Which one.  Don’t know.  I’m sure “they” will tell me.  

You know how you get so used to your way of doing things, you forget there are other ways?  That’s me.  Hence, my (real) question.

It’s a big world out there.  Lots of humans.  The cosmos is even bigger.  Lots of celestial conversationalists available for a (snap) chat. I wonder if you’re the chatty kind – talking all day to humans and light beings.  Or if you spend most of your time with one group over another.  Maybe you only talk (to humans or angels) when you really need something.  I wonder what it’s like for you.

I don’t read books about how to connect with Angels anymore. 

Not for years.  I read a bunch in the beginning.  They opened a new world to me and I’m deeply grateful for them. I liked having information about the Angels: names, roles, descriptions and ways to translate Angelic guidance.  This initial structure gave me the foundational knowledge and ideas about how I figure it all worked.  

I didn’t realize how these books also kept me bound within limited ideas about the Angelic Presence.  

I do remember the exact moment that door opened.  

I was offering an Angel reading as part of my practicum to become an Angel Healing Practitioner  You can just picture me.  My face and insides all screwed up in concentration as I “tried” to translate something that sounded like Angelic guidance.  Lots of tension. Lots of effort.

Until something akin to a tap on my right shoulder was followed by a question.  

“Do you mind if We take it from here?”

“Have at it!”  My relief was palpable. My knowing clear. My trust complete. 

From that day on, talking to Angels has become as natural as breathing. So has listening to Angels, streaming Angelic Conversations for others, consulting with them on all my life decisions, and helping you find your own way into this ongoing conversation. 

I know you have the skill to do the same.  I have zero doubt on that belief.  

Why so sure? I’ve sat with thousands of people throughout the years.  Heard so many Angel connection stories. Witnessed so many beautiful partnerships, heartfelt wisdom translations, and bodyfelt receptivity to the Angelic Presence.  Too many to count.  So, I know you absolutely have the skill to enter the conversation more fully.  

I just wonder where you’re bound. 

By your limited beliefs. By your doubt in yourself. By your experience (evidence) of not being responded to.  By your disappointments. By your perception that others can do this, but not you.  

I lived all of that.  Fully embodied disempowerment all the while I was having marginal success “talking with Angels.”

Those days are gone. These days I’m clear: the only time I’m not engaged with these lovely messengers is when I’ve left the conversation.  When I’ve narrowed my perception, my thinking, my awareness.  When I’ve gotten lost in one of my countless human stories that lead me to believe I’m separate from this ongoing flowing dialogue. 

These days I know the Angels are always Live Streaming.  

And, unbeknownst to most, you are always engaged in some level at that conversation.   

I wonder what your myths are about how this flowing, streaming beautiful conversation is “suppose to” happen.  

Myths.  Plural.  They are like locked doors – keeping you outside looking in at those who can talk to Angels, easily translate celestial wisdom, access deep Truth. These myths are keeping you separate from someone like me.  Just like my myths kept me in the “I’m not intuitive like you” camp for way too long.

This myth is not true. Just a distorted story which disempowers.  

 

There are lots of myths about how the Angelic conversation is supposed to happen.  If you’ve witnessed me live streaming – which is most typical when I teach, guide a meditation, offer an Angel Healing session, or an Angel Card Reading – you’ve witnessed one way of flow.   

I’d love to also talk about how damn awkward these conversations with Angels can be. 

To help you understand their nonlinear nature. How conversations unfold over time, across various messengers, and skip around topics. How the information is often cryptic, symbolic, and multisensory. How they show up at the most inopportune times.

How they pick up the conversation with abrupt questions, laughter when things aren’t funny, and challenges to act when it makes no sense.

About how to open to their rants about how much you are loved, cherished, and enjoyed. To let yourself feel the feels and experience the otherworldly even when it is physically disorienting or confusing.

I’d love to help you open to this Angelic live stream. 

I’m really invested in the other Angelic Invitation I received those many years ago.  “Teach them what they are already capable of.”  That’s what I’ve been doing for years now.  

Empowering you to discover how you (already) work.

Every workshop, retreat, and service I offer will help you discover more of your innate capacity to communicate with the Angels.  With every higher level of Wisdom regardless of what it is called.  This is what you are capable of. 

I invite you to WholeHeartedly, consciously, and freely enter the conversation. 

If you’re wanting personal instruction, hit me up for an Angelic Healing Journey.  It’s all about you as the Angels and other Wise Guides show up to answer your questions, invite themselves to hang out with you on a daily basis, and give you some hints for elevating your life.

Above all, remember this: You really don’t need me, or anyone, to show you the way.

You already know how to talk and listen.  You’ve already had beautiful and awkward conversations with all kinds of beings. Relax and have at it. If you want a guide, pick up a book, grab an Angel Card Deck, or find a teacher/mentor. 

All lead to the same place: your own Awesomeness.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

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Looking for Kindness in all the Right Places

I merged with ease onto the highway, as I’ve done countless times before.

I slowed a bit to let the big white pickup truck with a trailer pass by before I claimed my space.  Gazing forward at the open road, I realized the pick up driver had moved over to make room for me.

I was struck by the kindness of that simple maneuver.   

Seriously struck. My heart warmed as those feel good chemicals zoomed around my brain and body.  In my mind, I was crystal clear that he had offered me a kindness.  It wasn’t just good driving protocol or a desire to save his shiny new truck from a potential run in. How did I know?  I’ve no idea, but I knew. 

So did my open mind, warm heart, and tingling body. 

I basked in that experience as I drove. Then a question arose. 

How many subtle moments of intentional kindness do I miss each day? 

I recognized that question offered me an invitation to play. So, I drove on – alert in my pursuit of kindness. The tiny, easy to miss kind.  Whether it was intentional or habitual didn’t matter.  Noticing what was already happening was.

I took a new route to keep me from going mindless while driving. 

Winding through neighborhoods on a lovely day surprisingly showed kindness everywhere. Drivers let others merge or walkers cross the street. A man picked up random trash. Doors were held in local shops. A lady kissed a neighbor’s dog.

Smiles exchanged. Lots of drivers waving at each other. 

The thank you, go ahead kind of waving. Nary a middle finger in sight.  

I stayed alert while exploring a new grocery store. 

A mom was kind to her frustrated child. Staff helped find stuff.  A young girl smiled as she paused in her stocking for me to roll my cart by. 3 times she paused and smiled. (I was a bit lost).  My cashier was to die for kind and even helped me put the cart away as I grabbed my bags by the front door. 

I went to Trader Joe’s next.  Happy.  Watching lots of nice people manage a crazy crowded parking lot.  

Same story indoors. After a bit of noticing all the help all around, I zoned out and stood in line.  I tuned in and felt the unity within me.  Happy.  Feeling the benefit of witnessing so much kindness.  I brought my attention outward and saw a laughing couple enjoying a really friendly cashier.

I heard ladies laughing behind me. Strangers apparently.  

Mind back on autopilot, I half heard a woman cheerfully mention she just got rid of a house full of tweens after a sleepover.  She had laundry in the washer and dishes in the dishwasher when her husband mentioned they were out of tea.  So here she was on Superbowl Sunday at Trader Joes with the rest of New Jersey. 

I was thinking that was mighty kind. 

I was thinking about how I felt after those sleepover days.  My husband would’ve been lucky to get a cup of tea. No way I would’ve run out for that one item. Let alone do it cheerfully. 

(Note to self - still more growing up to do.)

 

I heard her ask the manager, perched in his official birds nest, if he could ring up her 1 item. He didn’t have a register.

That woke me up. 

“Please, go in front of me.”   “Oh no, I couldn’t.”   “Please”  (really more like “Puleeeaase, it is so not a big deal).  It was a no brainer. 

“That was kind,” said the (really friendly) cashier. 

I hadn’t even thought about the kindness thing.  It just happened.  Habitual kindness.  Noticed and commented on.  I wondered if he might be playing the same game, so I smiled at him knowingly (sounds creepy when I write it).

Asking me to wait a second, he had a word with the floating manager. I packed my groceries and got my change. 

Then he handed me a tiny bouquet of flowers. 

“Thanks for being kind,” said my game playing buddy.  Intentional kindness met habitual kindness.  Really, truly sweet. 

It showed me a new level of the game. 

I could notice acts of kindness happening and I could intentionally create a few of my own.  I walked out and saw a woman struggle to lift her bags out of the cart. And leave the cart precariously poised to drift right into that shiny luxury car parked by the door. Intentionally, I returned the cart. 

Playing the game at this level – noticing and contributing – reminded me of my favorite square dancing move.

It’s been a (really) long time since my High School gym days, but I think it’s called a chain.  All cliques represented as we joined hands, laughed, danced, and wove through each other with great enthusiasm.  Once we all agreed square dancing was hokey and weird, we were free to thoroughly enjoy ourselves.

I remember that feeling of an open mind, warm heart, and tingling body.

It struck me then that Life invites us to play a lot of different games.  It doesn’t seem to matter which one you choose.  Just that it takes you into that warm, sweet experience of being a contributing part of this human family.   

I believe there is a lot of good going on in our world. 

Depends what you are looking for and what you’ve got to add. 

I hope you find your game today.

And discover the joy of playing, the playmates who await you, and that inner tingle. I hope you  inadvertently make someone’s day and cause a chain reaction of goodness. 

p.s.  I also remember playing with those little scooters in gym. Jumping on the trampoline. Routines on a tiny balance beam (8 inches off the floor).  Volley ball and my killer serve. Softball on gorgeous days.  Thinking back on it, gym class was so much fun. 

What about you?  I’m sticking with fun … as long as I block out days running around the track, playing basketball, and wearing that mandatory sleeveless, one piece polyester gym suit.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

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Lost in the Woods

 

I’ve recently awakened the desire to go hiking and spend more time exploring the trails in New Jersey and other locations. 

So, my husband downloaded a new app with a wide selection of hiking trails in our area and chose our first 5 mile hike. It was rated “moderate” hiking difficulty which was good for me. I enjoy our walks in nature tremendously, but I was hankering for a little elevation and variation. Since a weekend hike in Rocky Mountain National Park was out, we popped in the car to celebrate Labor Day with an enjoyable walk in the woods. 

I love to explore new places by wandering around without a plan, discovering what is around me. My husband, on the other hand, is a map kind of guy. Or in this case, an app kind of guy.

We arrived at a tiny gravel lot, grabbed our bottles of water, and headed down the deserted path. How could we go wrong? There were white painted trail markers on the trees and we enjoyed being in the shaded woods as a respite from a sunny day with temperatures in the 90s.

It was a delight to be immersed within hundreds of trees with a hint of the stream’s gurgle beyond the ferns. The blue sky and white clouds peeked through the trees as if to check on our progress, yet the rays of the sun were only lightly visible. 

We strolled along as if we were the only people in the world on this path.

Apparently we were, as we didn’t see nor hear anyone for over an hour. There was a peace that descended when we were immersed within the natural sights and sounds of the forest. Even my husband relaxed his noticing of the changing color trail markers and we enjoyed quiet conversation interspersed with long periods of silence. The sight of massive roots of a fallen tree, minnows swimming by the edge of the stream, or a surprising tree of burning orange leaves was good for the soul.

Faced with a fork in the road, we simply went left as the absence of trail markers left us to our own devices.

We spied two deer leaping across the path ahead and disappearing into the dense brush.  It was a delight and we decided it was clearly a sign we were headed in the right direction. This was our first indication that perhaps we weren’t reading the signs correctly – trail signs or nature signs – as we ended up stuck in a field of prickly grasses with nowhere to go. So, we turned around. At the next fork, we got serious about looking for trail signs.

How hard could it be? After all, we were walking on a 5 mile loop. A loop is a circle, or so I thought.

Back on the path, we continued our leisurely hike as my husband called out, “Here comes your elevation! All 124 feet!” Peering around him, I saw a tiny hump in the path. Okay, so we weren’t in the Rocky Mountains. We stopped on a bridge and looked for fish while the trees protected us from the driving sun above. Relaxed and at peace, I was content in our meandering. And then we hit another split in the trail and absence of trail markers. This was beginning to become a theme. 

I didn’t object when he pulled out his app with the GPS. Good news: we were halfway through the loop. I felt a deep love for that stinkin’ app.

I was aware that while I wasn’t tired, I was pretty darn hot. The benches that appeared did not seem appealing for a rest stop. They looked like they had been carved in the 1800s and were covered with elaborate webs. Truth be told, I noticed I was a wee bit wilted on my first hike through this hilly terrain (yes, there were very tiny hills now). And then I saw it: a thin tree had fallen across the path. Unlike the others we had climbed over which had moderate to large trunks, this was a slender tree. The remarkable thing was that it was still growing. Its trunk was bent and the leaves were fluttering in the wind.

I felt an affinity for that little tree who just laid down and took a nap, right in the middle of the path.

 

Soon after this wonderful sight and a few more tiny inclines and declines, we came to another fork in the road. It was confusing, so we got out my favorite app. Turns out it was no help at all and the GPS, which had given us such hope, was suddenly suspect. We were back at a previous choice point and had to either go in an unknown direction which logically took us away from our car or backtrack via a path which meant we had miles to go before we could rest.

As we headed back from whence we came, I was no longer a fan of meandering nor of that silly app. I was also aware that the trail markers, which were absent at the choice point, were now abundantly clear – as if some ranger had gotten paint happy.

“We aren’t out of the woods yet!”  Who knew my husband had such a sense of humor?

Hot as all get out, I took stock and began rationing my water.  Very soon, I realized that getting lost in the woods was detrimental to the annoyed or anxious mind. The surrounding landscape was as calming when we were lost as it had been when we were all gung ho and full of vigor. As we walked, my husband and I began to notice places we had seen before and it became a game of sorts. We even ran across another couple which gave us hope that we would rediscover civilization. Back into our confident meandering, we didn’t feel the need to ask how to get out of the woods. We figured we were on the correct path.

How many detours could there be on a loop anyway? [Two more, but who’s counting?]

Spoiler alert: we made it out of the woods and returned to civilization. None the worse for the wear, we were so busy pulling the sticky leaves from our shoes and clothing that we almost missed the sudden appearance of that other couple. They were calmly strolling up the paved road beyond the gate. Apparently, that “unknown direction” not only led back to the parking lot, but did so in an easy and timely fashion. 

When my husband mentioned that the app had an upgraded version for $2.99/month with more trail details and an improved GPS function, I handed him 3 bucks and told him he was in charge of next week’s location.

And then I took a mini nap on the way home – just like my favorite tree.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

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Light Bathing in my PJs

Sunday was a brilliant day as I found myself immersed within a day long practice of “Light Bathing.” 

This wasn’t my plan nor did that term pop into my mind until I was already deep within the process.  With my morning shake in hand, my plans rearranged themselves when I was called to engage my Soul in meditation.

Sitting in my pajamas on my back deck, journal nearby, I closed my eyes and dropped into the moment. 

The birds sang.  My neighbor swept his patio. Planes occasionally flew above me.  The breeze rustled my hair.   I wandered through a visually rich inner landscape.  My Soul Conversation was enlightening.   Amidst all of this movement, Stillness emerged.  

I felt lit from within as I basked in the warmth of the sun. I was light in every sense of the word.

 

Opening my eyes, I noticed my dog resting nearby. He looked regal as he soaked in the sun – totally at rest and seemingly content. I realized that he often sought the light patches in the house or spent time resting in the sun on the back deck. Totally at rest and seemingly content. 

Moving inside, my plans rearranged themselves again when I felt the desire to attend to my plants.  

This again was unexpected. After all, I had a Dead Plant Sale when I lived as a resident advisor in the undergraduate dorms during grad school.  I was clearly missing the ‘green thumb’ gene, yet here I was with a desire to tend to my plants.  I have only one type of plant in my home and office given my seeming inability to keep them alive. Whatever type of plant I have, it is very forgiving and truly resilient. 

I discovered that my plants were thirsty, the leaves wilted, and the vines long overdue for trim.  

So I watered them.  Trimmed them.  Talked to them.  Promised them more care.  Finally I moved them all into the light. 

When my husband came home, I informed him that our plants were “Light Bathing” until tomorrow.  

I was struck by that term.  I actually felt a warm pleasure throughout my body when it was said aloud.  I noticed that I had turned on the lights that day in all of the rooms around me – using light as an accent of the beauty and tranquility of my surroundings.  

Later in the day, while hiking in the woods, I noticed the presence of light everywhere.  
I walked through ribbons of light in the denser forest and in bright sunshine through the field.  When I prepared and ate my dinner, I blessed the food and those who brought it to me with Light.

I recognized that Light Bathing was not a new thing – it was a normal part of life.  My dog already knew this, as did my plants.

Creating a new art piece that evening, I felt the lightness of enthusiasm and enjoyment while translating an inner vision into physical form. I chanted while I worked and consciously poured light into every layer of the mixed media painting. 

My day ended with a practice to Steady the Light. 

I resourced my energy field – physical body with the vital life force arising from the Earth and descending from the Heavens. Grateful for the day, it was no surprise to discover that it ended much as it had begun …

I was light soaked.

 

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions.