Author: Regina Reiter

In a previous post I encouraged you to share your story with me. As I have read your offerings, pure and raw and heartfelt, I am filled with humility and honor. I applaud your COURAGE to touch into those places that are usually stuffed down, put aside for later, and kept in the shadows.

It is with reverence that I witness and validate your stories.

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” And I really mean that. I’m sorry that you’ve had to experience the pain, the hurt, the sadness, the separation that you have. read more

I did it! I made room for a Miracle!

Is it arrogant of me to say that I had anything to do with creating a miracle? Isn’t that blasphemous to claim personal creative power, that only God – or saints – have anything to do with miracles?

Well, read on and make your own judgment.

Here’s the story, starting with the miracle:

I’m sitting at a festive table in a warm home in a southern Ohio nature sanctuary.
I’m sharing Thanksgiving dinner in a place where my heart sings, feeling loved and accepted just as I am, with family and friends who enjoy my company and who had warmly invited me over. We’re sharing food I love that suits my preferences perfectly! After dinner, we chat for a while, then we play my favorite game, a game that guides us to safely and humorously connect with each other, affirming our uniqueness. Everyone feels good about themselves and each other . That’s pretty miraculous, as Thanksgivings go. read more

“Oh my God!” I gasped.

My new friend, Millie had just turned on the lights in Immaculate Conception Church in Ottoville, OH.

“Praying just comes naturally in here!” The lofty arches with their luscious blue painted corners evoked awe and wonder. The nature of God and His dominion as heavenly beings far away and inaccessible to us mere earthly humans was confirmed in that architecture.

In my current walk around the State of Ohio on the Buckeye Trail, I’ve visited the Catholic churches in the many small towns along the route. The Catholics of the late 1800’s, when these towns were formed, built cathedrals for their worship. The spires, piercing the sky, visible for several miles across the flat farmland, are still prominent landmarks. Most are meticulously maintained with skillful tuck pointing of the red brick, painting of the artistic masterworks of the interior, and thoughtful insulation of the expansive stained glass windows. We only saw St. Mary’s in Junction, OH sadly abandoned. read more

‘WOULD YOU LIKE A CHAIR?”
“T” AT THE Discount Groceries store in Spencerville is asking me.
With that simple question, I realize that a miracle had occurred. I had witnessed my thoughts becoming reality. I, or I in co-creation with God and a couple of women, had created something out of nothing. As an explorer of the Law of Attraction, I am getting better at noticing simple moments like this as proof that what shows up in my life reflects my thoughts.
Let me back up a bit in the story.
My hiking partner and I had walked most of the day in wind and rain along the historic Miami-Erie Canal towpath that forms the Buckeye Trail in Ohio. As we approached Spencerville, a small rural town, we talked about what we wanted to create there. John had Googled on my smart phone and learned that there’s  the Top Hat Supermarket and a Subway sandwich shop.
“No hotel, no library”. He says.
We imagine sitting down and relaxing with a hot drink for an hour or so at Subway, then picking up food for supper at the supermarket and continuing on the towpath trail for a few more hours before dark.
What actually happened turned out differently, and. well, miraculously!
“We’re looking for a place we can sit down and have a hot drink,” I tell the deli clerk at the Top Hat Supermarket. She ponders a minute. “There’s the café, Oh, but that’s closed at this time of day.”
“I understand there’s a Subway.” I suggest.
“Oh yes, that’s a couple of blocks from here.” She gives me directions.
Our vision of sitting down in a warm spot with a hot drink glows in our minds. I can feel the warmth in my body and relaxation in my tired legs. I imagine the typical Subway with its vegetable themed wallpaper and wood themed tables and booths.
We reach Subway. It’s an in-store counter at the gas station. I’m disapIpointed but I look around the back wall for the seats that must be there. “It’s a Subway!” I insist silently.
Warm inside, yes. Subway sandwich counter, yes. Seats, no.
I talk with the clerk, “We’re looking for a place to sit down with a hot drink.”
“She thinks, “There’s the café, but it’s closed from 2 to  4”  It’s 2:15.
“Do you want something inside? There are tables outside.”   “Yes It’s rainy and cold and we’ve been walking all day. Inside would be great.”
I quip, “Spencerville, the town with no place to sit down!”
I remind myself to keep my focus on receiving  what I want, feeling how good it will feel to sit down with a hot drink on a seat.
“You could try the bowling alley.  I don’t know when that’s open, though.”
The bowling alley is closed.
The other gas station has no seats either.
“Well, let’s go back to the supermarket, buy a few things, and walk on.”
“There’s this discount groceries place, let’s go in there.”
It’s a warehouse lined with shelves in tight rows filled with mostly outdated dry goods. I strike up a conversation with a woman at the checkout   who shares that she loves shopping there.
“We’re just wanting to sit down for a bit,” We’re walking around Ohio on the Buckeye Trail.”. read more

“If you can’t say something nice don’t say anything at all.”

I heard this advice often as a child.

I was quiet child

I had plenty of “not nice”  things to say about how we were treating each other and how stifled i felt.

How needy i felt emotionally.

But I was silent because it didn’t seem nice to say.

I feel lonely.

I wanted to say things like,

“I want more love.”

“You seem mean and unhappy.”

“Why are you sad?”

“Can we do this differently?” read more