Tag Archives: family


Family. They really know how to push your buttons don’t they?

by Kaye Hazel, Angel Intuitive.

Today’s message from Doreen Virtue’s Daily Guidance from Your Angels oracle card pack is FAMILY.

If you are reading this, then trust that this message is for you. 

This situation is rooted in an emotional experience with a family member, which we can help you to understand and heal. In your mind and heart, surround this person, yourself, and the experience with calming blue light and many angels. Be open to the gifts within the situation, and allow yourself to feel peace. 

my family c1961

It is no coincidence that this message comes through today, as many of us connect with family and our family of friends around the world in this technological age.  

We don’t always like what others have to say and it can be those who are closest to us, our family, that get under our skin the most. If you are triggered by someone close to you, see this as an opportunity to learn more about yourself, and about them. It is a true friend who has the courage to speak their truth to us rather than support our wallowing in self pity or anger. When others see our situation from a different perspective, and their truth doesn’t sit well with us, take this opportunity to change the way you look at your situation. Is there something you are denying or judging about the situation, person or yourself? As Wayne Dyer often says ‘When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.’ 

If you are triggered today by the action or words of someone close to you, take a moment to reflect on your own thoughts, words or deeds. If you feel someone has judged you today, ask yourself, what are you judging about yourself or others. Through awareness and without judgement, you may be able to gain a valuable insight into the situation and diffuse the emotionally charge from escalating out of control. Ask the angels for their support and surround yourself and the other person (or persons) with calming blue light. To do this, just imagine a cloud of soft blue light encasing you and the situation and you’ll immediately feel calmer. Breathe in love and breathe out peace. Repeat as often you need to throughout the day. 

With love from your angels

12 August 2103   family silhouette


Children Learn What They Live




If children live with criticism, they learn to condemn.

If children live with hostility, they learn to fight.

If children live with fear, they learn to be apprehensive.

If children live with pity, they learn to feel sorry for themselves.

If children live with ridicule, they learn to feel shy.

If children live with jealousy, they learn to feel envy.

If children live with shame, they learn to feel guilty.

If children live with encouragement, they learn confidence.

If children live with tolerance, they learn patience.

If children live with praise, they learn appreciation.

If children live with acceptance, they learn to love.

If children live with approval, they learn to like themselves.

If children live with recognition, they learn it is good to have a goal.

If children live with sharing, they learn generosity.

If children live with honesty, they learn truthfulness.

If children live with fairness, they learn justice.

If children live with kindness and consideration, they learn respect.

If children live with security, they learn to have faith in themselves and those about them.

If children live with friendliness, they learn the world is a nice place in which to live.

Dorothy Law Nolte (1924-2005)


tiptoesDorothy Nolte wrote this poem in 1954 as part of her weekly column on creative family living for a local newspaper. At this time in the 1950s, and for many years later, parents raised their children by telling them what to do and what not to do. I grew up in the 1960s and 70s with this model of parenting, although I don’t regard my childhood as anything like ‘normal.’  

Nolte recognised that parent’s greatest influence on their children is the example they set as role models in everyday life. She, herself became a role model for parents and the wisdom in her words continue to be inspirational today.   

I’d like to see every parent be given a copy of this poem as a reminder of the responsibility that comes with the important role of parenting.  

Actually, that is exactly what happened! The poem was widely circulated by readers of her newspaper column and was distributed to millions of new parents by a maker of baby formula.  

She copyrighted it in 1972 and expanded it into a book in 1998.  

What is your child learning?  

Are you consciously modelling what you’d like your children to learn? 

What did you learn from your childhood?  

What would you like to have learnt?  

I was personally touched by the message in this poem and I urge you to reflect on your own childhood and on your own parenting / grand-parenting, without judgement. I believe that parents do the best they can with the resources they have available to them, so please reflect but don’t judge yourself or beat yourself up if you think you can or could have done better. 

Even though this poem was written almost 60 years ago, the message is just as relevant today. I think it is worth reading regularly and if you are a parent, I hope it gives you both inspiration and courage to be the best role model you possibly can for your children. If this message touches your heart, as it did mine, please share this message with others.  

You can read more wisdom from Nolte and her co-author, Rachel Harris, as they expand on each of the learnings in her poem, in their book of the same title.  

The late Dorothy Nolte, PhD was a lifelong teacher and lecturer on family life education and was friends with Rachel Harris, PhD (a psychotherapist with post-graduate training in family therapy) for more than 25 years.

 ‘This book can help you become the parent you have always wanted to be, and raise the kind of children you can always be proud of.’ 

From the foreword by Jack Canfield, co-author of the Chicken Soup for the Soul series.


Dorothy Law Nolte and Rachel Harris, ‘Children Learn What They Live’ Finch Publishing, Sydney, 1998 

Unexpressed Grief

My Dad was an avid sportsman; one of those people who excelled at any sport he turned his hand to. He played tennis, golf and cricket and competed in wood-chopping events at regional shows. He loved his farm where fattening cattle and growing cash and fodder crops allowed him to live his dream. He was a loving and doting husband and father and his children adored him. At 31, he was at his prime enjoying life and his young family.  

It was at this time that his life was cut short as a result of a car accident. He left behind his wife of ten years and four young children, aged from two to eight years. 

Today, the first of May, is the anniversary of my Dad’s passing. Although it has been 51 years, he has never been forgotten. 

I was his baby girl and at two years old when he passed, I have only vague memories of feeling safe and comforted when held in his arms. I do however, recall a time when I was wandering the house looking for him, feeling scared and alone, crying out for his attention. I believe this would have been sometime in the days following his passing. Although I never really knew my Dad, I have never doubted his love for me. When I tune into his energy now, I am filled with a sense of love and peace. 

As time passed, memories of my Dad faded and because of my age and lack of understanding of death, I never grieved for him. Due to the paucity of my memories, the need to grieve his loss didn’t even enter my mind, even as an adult.

However, unbeknown to me, I incubated this unexpressed grief carrying it with me throughout my life, until it needed to be released, like the steam in a pressure cooker. It was fifty years after his death, when the pressure valve was finally discharged and I was left emotionally spent. 

It was April 2012 and my niece, Abbie was getting married in an outdoor ceremony at a beachside resort. As she linked her arm through her father’s and made her way onto the rose petal littered carpeted aisle to meet her husband-to-be under the shade of a white wedding canopy, all eyes were on Abbie. 

But my eyes were fixed on her father, my brother. Bruce had walked me down the aisle when I was married 30 years ago, but this was different. This was his only daughter, and the pride and love he had for her was palpable.  

As I looked at my brother sharing a nervous laugh with his daughter as they edged closer to their destination, I saw him in a way different to how I had known him before. I saw him as the loving, doting and proud father that he is and this triggered something inside me. 

My eyes grew heavier until I could no longer fight the battle to hold back the tears and they cascaded down my face. Equally surprised and embarrassed by my outpouring of emotions, I did my best to keep a dry face, consoling myself with thoughts of ‘no one would be looking at me.’  

Little did I know at the time, this was only the start of my tears that day. After the reception and in the confines of my room, the floodgates were opened. The barrier had been breached and the floodwaters arrived. I was inconsolable, and sobbed incessantly and uncontrollably for over two hours until I finally fell asleep, totally exhausted. The following morning brought more tears and despite my best efforts to shut them down, they needed to come out. They continued to pour out until gradually easing off over the following week. 

Confused about the intensity of my emotions, I reasoned in my mind that it must be because I was menopausal. What other explanation could there be? However, deep inside, I had an uneasy feeling that I would never see my brother again. I was afraid that something was going to happen to him and I wanted to hold on to our connection as a family. 

It was another six months before I understood my emotional breakdown had nothing to do with my brother, but was an expression of grief for my Dad. When I saw my brother at the wedding and felt the loving connection he had with his daughter, I knew in my body what I had missed out on with my Dad. 

This was the first time in my life I understood on a visceral level what a strong loving relationship between a father and daughter could be like. And it saddened me to my core as it ignited the sense of loss I felt for my Dad but had denied for half a century. 

When I looked at Bruce walking Abbie down the aisle, I saw my father, not my brother. 

The feeling I had that I’d never see my brother again, was my two year old self knowing she didn’t get to say goodbye to her father. I knew the close family connection I was yearning for at the time of the wedding, had been broken all those years ago. For awhile, I tried to hold on to remnants of that family closeness by suggesting regular family get togethers, while knowing in my heart, the connection could never be repaired. The bond had been broken fifty years ago. 

It is recognised that children less than three years of age have little or no understanding of the meaning or significance of death. However, that doesn’t mean they don’t feel the loss or that they don’t need to grieve. This grief may go unrecognised and unexpressed for many years, waiting patiently for as long as it takes to have its expression. 

Renown grief expert, Dr Elisabeth Kübler-Ross wrote in her book, On Death and Dying (1969) ‘grief has a fail-safe mechanism that will hold itself intact until a child is old enough or psychologically prepared enough to deal with it.’ 

It took 50 years for me to express my grief for the loss of my Dad. I had carried it for all those years without knowing it was even there, and without understanding it needed to be expressed. 

Today on the fifty-first anniversary of his passing, I lovingly celebrate and honour my Dad, Gilbert Thompson Summers (21.11.1930 ~ 01.05.1962).  


‘I cannot think of any need in childhood

as strong as the need for a father’s protection.’

Sigmund Freud


01 May 2013