Red Light,Green Light.jpg


It had been a busy day and it was already late afternoon. I was on my way to a private event in a remote town nestled in the mountains. I felt layers of stress peel away from my shoulders as the miles peeled away under the wheels of the car. The sun had begun its descent in the sky and I rolled down the windows, breathing in the first hint of Spring already lingering in the air.

I glanced at my watch and felt the tension return. Time was running short. I gripped the steering wheel tightly and maneuvered the car along the winding, curving, two-lane road leading to my destination. Suddenly, the stretches of green fields and low-hanging trees gave way to old, Victorian-style homes. Looking ahead, I could see that there was one lone red-light at a crossroads a few hundred feet away. It had been green when I had slowed from 55 to 25, but as I came closer I winced, as the light turned to a deep, no-way-you-could-ignore-it red.

There were no cars coming in either direction and I eased up to the front position at the red-light, willing it to change quickly. No such luck. While waiting, I absentmindedly turned my head in the direction of the passenger's door and through the side window I noticed an antique store on the corner. It had row upon row of ticking clocks, many with wildly-swinging pendulums. Some of them appeared older than others, their faces containing Roman Numerals. A few digital clocks brashly stood out and a cuckoo clock had been carefully placed on a pedestal.

I swung my attention out the driver's window and watched as a young mother sitting at an outdoor cafe table smiled and giggled with her toddler, who was swaddled in pink from head-to-toe. An older couple walking their dog approached the two. As the little girl gleefully reached her hand for the dog, it leaned forward and licked her face, and I couldn't help but laugh along with them all at the little girl's squeal of delight.

Across the street in front of me, there was a beautiful park and I watched as a young boy studiously concentrated on the basketball goal that loomed far over his head. He focused on making the foul shot and succeeded at least half the time. While watching the young boy's determination, my attention was suddenly caught by the changing light from red to green.

As I drove the final few miles to my event, I reflected on what I would have missed if the green light had held. Oftentimes we are in such a hurry! We pray for things to go easier, for circumstances not to slow us down or deter us, let alone stop us; we pray for the green light. But it is oftentimes the blocks, the red-light of life, that give us the greatest opportunities, the greatest joys, if we would but embrace the block and look at what's around us.

So, as you go through your week, pay attention to those times you feel pressured or under the gun. And when life gives you a red-light, look for the timeless treasure; the opportunity to laugh; and the focused determination that all can be found at the intersection where you and your life ultimately meet.

Intuitively Yours,
Nan O'Brien


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I am frequently asked about Guardian Angels and Spirit Guides: "What's the difference?" or "Do I have any?" And, of course I am happy to share that we all have both. Guardian Angels are those souls who choose to always be in Spirit and to watch over us, and Spirit Guides are those souls who have been a part of our physical lives - this time and/or other times - who are currently in Spirit. They may have passed before us, or they may have chosen to stay in Spirit this time around. For example, my mother, who passed in 2002, is now one of my Spirit Guides, but she cannot be a Guardian Angel in the literal sense because she has experienced physical life. Regardless, both watch over us and help us as we navigate this existence.

Yet, while the literal explanation is one thing - and I hope the definitions helped - I think the term "angel" is much more broad than that, as I came to truly experience firsthand just recently.

You see, my daughter Emily, had to have corrective surgery to her jaw due to a structural genetic defect. The procedure required having two surgical fractures to the lower jaw, one on each side, and then having the lower jaw slid outward and bolted into place. Over the thirty days following the procedure, the bone will grow and fill in the empty spaces. It was a straightforward surgery - no pun intended - that lasted almost four hours, and it requires that her mouth stay immobile for a month. She cannot eat anything during that time, no pressure on the teeth that would disturb the new bone growth.

The alarm went off at 4:30 a.m. and I rolled over confused and disoriented in the netherworld of the just-waking-from-a-dream state, wondering why in the world I had set my alarm for such an early hour. I am not, nor will I ever be, a willing "morning person." Thinking I had made a mistake, but out of an abundance of caution, I hit the snooze button and drifted quickly back to sleep. Five minutes later, the annoying buzzing rousted me from my deep slumber yet again, and without opening my eyes, I hit what I thought was the snooze button again. Another five minutes passed and, while the alarm was silent, I came to and bolted upright as I heard my mother (from Spirit) shout in my ear, "WAKE UP!" That's when it hit me why I needed to come to so early.

My heart pounding from the close call of falling back asleep, I threw off the covers, turned the coffeemaker on (feeling soooo glad I had readied it a few hours before when I had finally gone to bed), and jumped in the shower. I threw on my sweats and sneakers, grabbed a "to go" cup of hazelnutted coffee - fat free, of course - and knocked on my 17-year old daughter, Emily's, door.

"Time to go, sweetheart," I said, as she groggily nodded her head in assent. She stumbled in and out of the bathroom, and then we slipped out into the darkness of the early morning. It was 5:30 a.m.

The ride didn't take long, though I was surprised to see how many cars were already on the road. I had thought we would be like lone journeyers in the night, driving in the shadow of the still shining moon, but instead we joined commuters already partaking their daily jaunt. I pulled into the parking garage and we entered through the revolving doors, up to the reception area, and were directed to yet another office full of workers who were clearly much more awake than either Emily or me.

The paperwork was painless and quick, thanks to several organized phone calls the week before, and soon we were whisked into a room full of curtains and people dressed in one of two outfits: Medical garb or hospital dressing gowns. Emily joined the ranks of patients with standard hospital gown issue and we waited as a parade of nurses, residents, students, and doctors came in and out of her temporary cubicle. I scanned the numerous papers presented to me for my signature, then affixed my John Hancock, as Emily squeezed my hand when her I.V. was put into her left forearm. After less than an hour of procedure, it was time for Emily to be rolled away behind the double doors that would separate us for her surgery. Shortly thereafter, Emily's father joined me at the hospital and we waited together silently, friends even if we were no longer spouses.

Four hours later we received the good news that all had gone well, and after another hour her father and I were allowed to see her. The visitor rules had been altered to accommodate the swine flu threat, and my husband had to wait until many hours later to come to her bedside, but he was glad when he was allowed to see her. Emily was totally groggy, her lower jaw having been surgically fractures on both sides, slid forward on itself, and bolted into place to repair a skeletal genetic defect. Her face and lips were swollen and bruised, as expected, and her teeth could not come together. For the next thirty days, she would not eat anything solid; movement of the jaw was very restricted; talking - at least for a while - was out.

Over the next seventy-two hours, a steady stream of nurses, doctors, residents, and students came in and out of Emily's room. The care was continuous, but more importantly than that, the care was compassionate. My daughter was not a number or a name on a chart, she was treated by each medical professional as a person, an individual. What could have been a nightmare was nothing less than a well-oiled machine with a personal touch.

I am often asked about angels, what they are, who they are, and I have explained many times that angels are those spiritual entities that remain in Spirit to watch over us and to help us, to guide us. After witnessing my daughter's care, I'd like to amend that definition - for the professionals who took care of Emily were angels to her and to us in every sense of the word...

Angels are everywhere; sometimes it is only a matter of looking around you and seeing them for who they are. And when you see an angel, be sure to say "thank you" - that's why I had to share this story with you totay.

 Intuitively yours,
Nan O'Brien

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It had been a busy day around the office, the kind of day that goes by so fast you are happy on the one hand to have the day come to a close, and unhappy on the other because the mountain of work still needing to be done is bigger than the "finished" pile.

The last one out the door, she had dutifully emailed a list of reminders for her secretary to get started on in the morning because she had an early meeting outside of the office and washed the mugs that several of her co-workers had thoughtlessly left in the sink. She would need to send out a memo about that the next morning. Next, she checked to make sure the coffeemaker was ready to go when the automatic timer turned on at 7:00 a.m., and then went back down the long hall to her corner office.

She looked at her watch and saw she had just enough time to catch the last express train home. She quickly sat in her chair and slipped off her heels, reaching beneath her desk for her Nikes. There was a time she never dreamed she would pair an expensive suit with sneakers, but years of living in Manhattan had caused practicality to triumph over the need to look chic.

Just then, as she was gathering her laptop, files to review on the commuter train ride home, and briefcase, her private phone line began to ring. Her first thought was to ignore the call, but there were very few people who had that number and it must be important. The phone continued to ring. She debated internally that if she didn't answer, whoever had the private number probably also had her cell. The phone's ring became more insistent and, glancing at her watch, she reached an internal compromise: She would pick up the phone and have whoever was calling call back on her cell as she raced to the train station.

"Hello?" she said, rather sharply, bordering on rude. She didn't even bother to say her name, her normal way of answering.

"Christina?" said an older woman, "Is that really you? It's me! Joan! It's your mother! I-I can't believe I found you! I can't believe you answered the phone! I've been looking for you for so long, and I ---"

"Excuse me," said the executive a bit brusquely, "My name isn't Christina, it's Diane, and my mother's name isn't Joan, it's Mary, so I'm sorry, but I'm running late and trying to catch a train, and I -"

"What???" the woman said, crushed, "this isn't Christina? Are you sure? I mean, it's taken me two days to get up the courage to finally call you since I was given your phone number, and it's just that...well...I don't have much time left...and if you're not my daughter, I don't know how I can ever be at peace..."

Diane looked at her watch and realized there was no way she could make her train, she'd have to take the next one in an hour, and said a bit softer, "There now, I'm sure it's not that bad. I'm sure you just dialed a wrong number, and if you hang up and call again, I'm sure Christine will answer."

"No, no," said Joan, "I'm sure I dialed it right: 212-230-3316, that's the number the private investigator gave me."

Diane wrinkled her brow. Joan had dialed the right number, and it was hers. She heard Joan start to cry, muffled sobs that were clearly from the depths of her soul.

"It's just that I needed to tell her why I gave her up; I needed to tell her that she was born from love; I needed to tell her that not a day went by that I didn't think of her, love her, and regret giving into my family's demands to surrender her, even if I understood that they meant the best for both of us." Her voice struggled through the sobbing, "I needed to tell her that the most beautiful moment of my entire life was the moment the doctors put her in my arms before taking her away, and that that moment gave my entire life purpose." She paused. "I needed to tell her that I'm sorry. And I needed to tell her now because...I'm dying."

By this time, Diane was reaching for the tissues on the credenza behind her mahogany desk, next to pictures of her own happy family.

"Joan," she said softly, "tell me the story of Christina, and I promise you that I will find her and deliver your message to her. I promise."

And for the next forty-five minutes, Joan shared her story with Diane. As they hung up, Joan said softly, "Thank you for taking my call."

Walking to the train station, Diane smiled as she mulled over the gift of two strangers brought together at the end of a busy day. "No, thank YOU, Joan," she thought.

 Intuitively yours,
Nan O'Brien

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Slings and Arrows.jpg
© 2009 Joanne Delabruere for Nan O'Brien

No matter how much we care about our family, our friends, there are times that the relationship you would never expect to have a problem, does; and we become separated from our loved ones by a difference of opinion or slip of the tongue as definitively as if we were two pieces of land on opposite sides of a gaping ocean.

It is a scary place to be, feeling distanced from someone we have shared the intimacies, the insecurities, of who we are at the core. It is even worse when there is a grain of truth on the tips of the arrows of hurt that we all possess - but seldom shoot - normally having enough self-control not to intentionally inflict pain on those we love.

But, how many times, in anger, do we find ourselves rooting in the back of the closet of our minds, for that one comment, that one reminder, that we know will wound another as swiftly and accurately as if we had drawn the bow? And, how many times do we feel those words slip from our mouths, as we likewise feel the bile of regret?

Sometimes separations in our relationships come in the form of silence; of feeling alienated; of feeling you can't resolve an issue because there is no clear-cut right, no clear-cut wrong. So, you say nothing; do nothing; because, truly, you believe there is nothing that can be done. We are afraid to make things worse, so we stay silent. We choose inaction out of frustration of not knowing what to do. We create stories in our heads of what others are thinking, why they did what they did, or chose what they chose, and then we respond to those stories as if they were real. This can be as destructive to others, to ourselves, as screaming at the top of our lungs. Inaction is a choice; complacency is a choice.

So, what do you do when confronted with either of these situations? How do you put down the arrows? How do you move forward when fear, guilt, or complacency are so overwhelming, you don't know where to start? How do you stop making a difficult situation worse from adding the bricks of guilt and regret to the load you already carry on your back?

Recognizing that when we come to this physical world, we attract others into our lives either to journey - to share, to grow - or to resolve, is the first step in gaining perspective. We do not come to this world as perfect beings; and even as we learn and grow, we do not leave this world as perfect beings, either. We can only ask of ourselves that we do our best; or, if we know we have not, then we can only forgive ourselves for our imperfections - or forgive others for theirs - and be willing to move on.

Our relationships will ebb and flow over time, as surely as the currents of the oceans. We need to take a broader view of life, of relationships. We need to start from the premise of best intention and God's grace. And we need to be willing to say "I'm sorry" and "I love you" when other words fail us.

The key is growth - learning from our choices; learning from the choices of others that affect our lives; and always seeking to live in truth and in integrity, with the certain knowledge that there is no problem without a solution, even if the solution is found in Spirit and not during our physical existence.

We are not alone. We are on a journey of discovery of self and soul growth; and while there are times in your life that may be difficult, even heartbreaking, you can withstand and face the slings and arrows because you are truly shielded with the armor of love - that of the love of God; love of others; and love of self.

Intuitively Yours,
Nan O'Brien

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  Big Bad Wolf.jpg

When my oldest daughter, Elizabeth, was in first grade, she won the coveted role of the Big Bad Wolf in her class's version of the Three Little Pigs. At six years of age, she had already been dancing for three years at a local studio. For weeks before the afternoon show, she leapt and crouched, twirled and strutted, her hands raised in a fearsome gesture as she practiced blowing down the pigs' houses by more than the hair on her chinny-chin-chin.

The day of the school play came and I sat next to my mother and father, along with other proud parents and grandparents, as well as the entire elementary school. As the young teacher stood and addressed the crowd, a respectful hush fell over the students - and my heart began to pound. I wanted her to remember her lines, not that she had ever had a problem with them. I wanted her to be confident on stage, not that she had ever been shy or uncomfortable in front of an audience. I wanted her to enjoy the experience and have fun, though I needn't have worried about that.

At some point after the curtain went up, I realized I was holding my breath and clutching my hands in tight fists. The moment came for Elizabeth to make her appearance and she danced boldly to the center of the stage, whirling and twirling a perfect Wolf Dance, which she had choreographed herself in our living room the night before.

While I trembled, she glowed; while I recited her lines in my head, she delivered them with panache. And when she turned her back to the audience and wiggled her safety pinned wolf tail with unfettered enthusiasm as she made her exit, the entire auditorium erupted in appreciative laughter and applause.

Thoughts of that special day flew through my mind when she was offered the opportunity to attend Victoria University in Wellington, New Zealand. In that one moment, I lived a lifetime of memories: The years of dance recitals and play rehearsals; giggles as we snuggled on Saturday mornings; girlfriends, boyfriends, laughter and tears; long talks - sometimes because we were close, and sometimes because we had just argued. But, no matter what, ending up hugging and my feeling proud of the young lady - and then, the young woman - that she had become.

All of these moments seemed to be tied up in a bow with that one phone call, from her beginning as the Big Bad Wolf until the moment she would step out into the big, bad, real world for herself. And with that one little step on the elementary school stage, a lifetime of embracing her gifts had begun.

So, for those of you this week who are seeking direction of where YOU need to go and what gifts you need to embrace, remember that it only takes a first small step to set things in motion, and you don't always see where you'll end up. No matter what, head toward what you love doing and the soul's joy WILL give you the right direction. And while you're at it, with everything you've got, don't forget to giggle - and wiggle - YOUR wolf tail at those who are merely watching.

Intuitively Yours,
Nan O'Brien

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Looking at Life: Dancing



Photo: © 2009 Joanne Delabruere for Nan O'Brien

While visiting a friend's home, I was thoroughly entertained by her three young daughters, Anna Marie, eight; Katharine, six; and Grace, twenty-two months.

The older sisters had just returned from ballet class and danced into the sun room where we sat. Each of them had their hair piled up in a dancer's bun. They wore leotards of light pink; their well-worn, well-cared for ballet shoes were held by an elastic band that stretched over four very small feet with four very high arches.

Anna Marie and Katharine grabbed one another's hands and giggled as they proudly lined up in front of us and demonstrated the ballet positions they had learned in class that day, while their baby sister Grace looked on from the comfort and safety of her mother's lap. They pointed their toes, arched their arms over their heads, glancing sideways at one another - just to make sure they were doing it right. When they made a mistake, both girls laughed and waved their arms, exclaiming, "No! No! That's not right! We need to start over!" as they readjusted their positions - and their pink tights.

Soon, Grace could no longer resist the allure of the dancing and she reeled out of her mother's lap, racing in stilted strides, her diaper rustling, to stand in front of her big sisters. Facing us, she watched over her shoulder and imitated their movements as best as a twenty-two month old could. When the girls gracefully twirled in a circle, Grace awkwardly twirled, too, oftentimes falling down, only to hoist herself back up to begin spinning yet again.

After about ten minutes, all three sisters collapsed, breathing hard, in a tangled pile of arms and legs, on the sun room floor, their delight obvious, and their laughter infectious.

Watching them, I felt tears welling up in my eyes, my heart so overwhelmed and touched by their innocence AND their joy. It was powerful to bear witness to their unfettered enthusiasm, their willingness to move, to dance, to be free with their expression, both physical and emotional; to make mistakes without blame or anger, to help one another, and to be so unaffected by our watching them dance.

So, as you go through this week, I encourage you to look for the opportunities to embrace your joy with the purity of innocence, of intention, and with the power of grace - both God's and your own - to point your toes, and curve YOUR arms in the air, or even to fall down and jump back up as you move freely to THIS dance we call "life."

Intuitively Yours,

Nan O'Brien

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Dear Nan,

I've been having arthritis pain for a long while and was wondering if you could tell me why this came up unannounced and if it will ever go away ???

Thanks for your time,



Dear Christine,

First, let me be very clear. I believe in traditional medicine and the wonderful benefits that the science of medicine can provide. That said, I also know that the mind-body-spirit connection is an important part of our physical health, too. In addition to addressing the physical components with your doctors, it is important for you to also look at the energetic connection. That's where I come in!

Arthritis pain can be excruciating and by virtue of the pain, it demands that you pay attention to you. In your case, this is connected to your life lesson plan of balance. You take care of everyone else; you focus on everyone else; yet you feel guilty when you take care of you. You also hold onto the pain of those around you, which energetically has to go somewhere! Is it any wonder, then, that you are hurting?

A key to helping reduce the pain is to look at what was going on in your life at the point in time the pain surfaced. You also need to find outlets to let go of the pain, the disappointments in your life, which will have a positive effect on your symptoms.

Remembering that you must make your own health a priority energetically will help support the medical treatments, which is a positive way to address the balance lesson in your life.



√ ∙ Checkpoint: Using only medical tools or only alternative tools for physical issues is not as effective as combining both. "Integrative medicine" is an approach that combines the best of both worlds. A key part of an integrative approach is to listen to your own intuition about your body and to be pro-active in your treatment with your medical provider.

Oftentimes, a balance lesson is a part of medical challenges. While it is a difficult way to receive the lesson, the truth is that we do pay attention to ourselves when we are sick or hurting. We do allow others to give to us, do for us, when we physically cannot do for ourselves, if for no other reason than necessity.

Different parts of the body yield clues about situations in our life demanding our attention that we are not addressing. For Christine, holding onto her own emotional pain and taking on the pain of others contributes to her arthritis pain. By treating the physical symptoms through medical means, and simultaneously addressing the underlying energetic need to give to ourselves without guilt, we take a huge step toward achieving - and maintaining! - physical health and learning the lesson of balance.

Until next time, I am

Intuitively Yours,
Nan O'Brien


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Looking at Life: Spring


As the warmth of the sun has finally thawed the thick ice of Lake Champlain, so, too, do we now feel the beginning of our personal loosening from winter's grasp, becoming restless; yearning for the open air and sunshine of Spring. It is at this time of year that our spirits become as vibrant and alive as the flowers that raise up in a chorus of color, creating a beautiful symphony of family, friendship, and fellowship.

We seek balance in our lives, intently trying over and over again when we fall short of walking the delicate line of giving and receiving; nurturing others, while nurturing ourselves. We seek beauty, eager to experience the connectivity with the sights and smells of Spring: Freshly mown grass, trees in full bloom, a gentle wind over the lake. We seek solitude beneath the sun, whether in quiet repose, or in the pages of a good book. We enjoy the innocence of a child's understanding and respect the dignity found in the wisdom of our elders. We reflect, we re-evaluate, we listen more carefully to others and to ourselves, all in an effort to discern those things in our life that we need to keep - and those that we need to release.

For those of us who are in pain or conflict, we turn our attention to the necessary steps to move our lives forward. For those of us who are not, we embrace with gratitude that which we hold in our hand. We garner strength and courage from the brilliance of the world around us. We give thanks for the blessings of our families; we say prayers for those who have sacrificed their lives on our behalf.

Though not always an easy task, it is nonetheless a rejuvenating time of spiritual cleansing. It is a time for connecting with that place deep within that is urging us to overcome those walls that have hindered us in the past and to journey toward a healthier way of living from here forward.

So as you stand at the precipice of Spring, remember to not only see, but look at your life; not only hear, but listen to your inner spirit; not only breathe, but take in the splendor of the world around you; and always, always, seek the grace found in nature that surely displays the magnificence of God's presence in our lives.

Intuitively Yours,
Nan O'Brien

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How do you feel about gays?


Dear Nan,

I was just wondering how you felt about gays. Do you think that that they go to heaven? I was just wondering how do you judge them. Do you think that they are defective and need to go through some type of medical procedure to get their wires straighten out so that they can be normal. Do you get any calls from gay people or are they allowed to call in on your show and can they state that they are gay or is that not allowed for them to state that they are gay? Do you have any gay friends? Do you treat them different from regular friends? I was just wondering what is your take on this.



Dear Melvin,

Thanks for writing, and I am happy to answer your questions:

I would never judge a person for their sexual orientation or any other reason. To judge, one must place oneself above another, and that we are not to do ("do not judge, lest ye be judged"). I have many gay friends, and do not see them as "defective" at all.

I have no doubt that all of those in physical form return to a spiritual state; we are either here or there, physical or spiritual beings, there is no other alternative. As for my show, I welcome all calls and there are times people identify themselves as gay; there are times it becomes obvious without stating it blatantly - i.e., if someone is calling about a relationship and the first name of the person is the same sex as the caller, it's said without being said.

I hope this clarifies my personal point of view, and thanks again for writing!


Dear Nan,

Back in September of last year, my life was turned completely upside down - a friend of mine passed away, and so I was unemployed after taking care of him. Then I received an eviction notice for my apartment. I had to rush around trying to get a job and move at the same time. Next, I had problems with my relationship and it ended last week. Will things ever get better for me?



Dear Walter,

Wow, what a challenging time! But one thing that immediately jumped at me about your energy is that every aspect of your life - your livelihood, your home, your relationships - all came to an end at the same time. This is significant, in that you are clearly being blocked energetically from moving forward with your life as it was.

You need to pay attention to the blocks, and not see what has happened as tragic or based in loss. Odd as it may sound, I actually want you to celebrate these endings, as they likewise signify the opportunity for beginnings! Think about it: Your friend, who I'm hearing held on and rallied several times in the past year, is finally at peace. You are not permanently tied to a job, a place to live, or a relationship.

This is the time for you to make your move, both physically and energetically. The southwestern part of the country is in your energy - Tucson in particular - and I would like you to investigate opportunities in that area for work. My sense is that you will be working with your hands, something you have always enjoyed but never embraced as a career.

Remember, Walter - though it may sound trite, it is true: Happiness is a choice. And part of that happiness is rooted in the faith that all things are truly for a reason!


√ ∙ Checkpoint:
 Many of us have had trying times like Walter is experiencing. How often as we try to move forward in life with what we want, we find ourselves feeling thwarted, even picked on by some unseen/unknown energetic bully. I remember saying to my mother during the years I struggled as a single mom of four children, "I feel like I'm being punished and I don't know what I did." Can you relate? And yet, we keep plodding along, making the same choices that haven't worked for us before, all the while wondering why the outcome isn't any different.

But if we would pay attention to the blocks that prevent us from moving forward in any one direction, we would see that we are actually being gently guided by the Universe away from what doesn't work and toward what is the most right for us and what we need, even if that isn't necessarily what we think we need - or even what we think we want! We discover that where we end up is exactly where we need to be.

So, right now, if you feel you are being prevented from having something in your life, if you feel you are encountering blocks, take a few moments to consider that what you want may not be what honors your highest and greatest good. Take a few moments to step back and see things from a broader perspective - that of opportunity, of guidance, of recognizing the beginnings that always result from endings.

The lesson of paying attention to the blocks can move you forward very quickly, once you are willing to embrace the open doors instead of beating your head against the locked ones!

Until tomorrow, I am

Intuitively Yours,
Nan O'Brien

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