Rooting for Truth: From genealogy researcher to author to speaker

When I began “rooting” for my ancestor’s stories, I never dreamt that it would change my life. Most rooters will tell you what an awesome feeling it is to stand on the earth where your ancestors stood, if you are lucky enough to find that location. It took me twenty-six years to find that spot of earth, but as you will read in my stories, there were a few hurdles to jump over. That’s the life-changing part.

Now that I’ve made the journey to the tiny villages in Guangdong, China twice, I’m more comfortable with who I am, daughter of a man whose family had the courage to sojourn across an ocean. Now that I’ve accepted that I am a Medium, I’m excited about the conversations I have with those ancestors and to know that just because they are no longer in the physical world, they are not dead. And now that I’ve shared their stories, I  am thrilled to focus on next book about my reincarnation research and experiences. And yes, you can be sure that my ancestors play a role in that book too.

If you are in the Richmond, VA or Williamsburg, VA area in November, I hope you will join me at the book discussion groups.

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Celebrating Talk Story

To thank the Sponsors and all those who put in a lot of hard work to create the Talk Story Events and well as to those who attend, I’m offering a FREE copy of the e-book version of my first book, Conversations With a Hungry Ghost: Memoir of a Reluctant Medium. You can download your copy from April 12-16th. Please feel free to tell your friends and family.

“After a lifetime of blocking the ghosts who tried to talk to her, Carole found the courage to overcome her fear to speak with her father’s ghost. Their conversations helped Carole understand her father’s reluctance to share his story about his journey from China to the U.S. and guided her to the Louie family ancestral villages. Their conversations were more than a genealogical exploration; they were the beginning of a spiritual journey, a journey into the spirit world and past lives, a path of healing and love.”

 

I hope you will enjoy my story and if you do, I hope you will write a review on Amazon.

I invite you to join me at the TALK STORY EVENT on April 14th. To learn more about TALK STORY, go to my previous blog.

TALK STORY

I’d like to invite you to join me at TALK STORY in Washington DC on April 14th. See the flyer for more details. Many thanks to the sponsors – the 1882 Foundation, the Chinese American Museum, OCA, Chinese Service Center & CACA – for the invitation to share my story about “rooting for truth” and my short/short story “Ching Ming.” If you are a Louie or Lei and plan to attend, let me know ahead of time so I can bring you a copy of my new book.

If you are not able to attend in person, be sure to catch the event on the 1882 Foundation Facebook page.

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Rooting for Truth – patience and persistence pays off!

Another day at NARA (National Archives) and digging through more files, I hit pay dirt. The ratio of Chinese women to men in the early days of Chinese Sojourners to the Gold Mountain (U.S.) was very small. So, I cannot help wonder what motivated my grand-uncle to bring his young wife, Toy Shee, to San Francisco in 1928. I cannot help wondering what she must have felt as she birthed three children in this strange land. However, I have a feeling that my uncle Don (Louie Hung Don) would have cherished that young family as much as he loved spending time with me and my siblings in the 40’s and 50’s because he was one of the “bachelors” (the thousands of men alone).

What a difference it was reading Toy Shee’s interrogation versus her husband’s! And what a treasure trove of information painting a picture of her life in China. She must have come from a family of substance because ten servants accompanied her as she rode a sedan chair to her wedding. No doubt they were loaded down with gifts for the Louie family as well as all her worldly possessions. She proffered her husband (my paternal grand-uncle), a man she had never met, a cup of wine and paid respects to his ancestors at the family altar. Then, he went to the men’s celebration while she stayed at her new home with the women. A home she’d share with her in-laws and their servant, a young girl who fetched water from a river a few blocks from the house.

How did she feel when her husband returned to the Gold Mountain before their first child was born? How did she feel when he returned, decided to take her back with him but left their first-born with his parents?

A note to fellow genealogy researchers who are new to the Chinese traditions: Toy Shee means that she was from the Toy clan. I do not know what her birth name was. I do not know if a woman took a “married name” as her husband (Louie Kaow/Louie Qiao Wei) did. Her confident gaze speaks volumes to me even though she could not write or even sign her name.

I hope her spirit and/or the children’s will tell me more. Until then, I will enjoy MY grand-nieces and the memories of the day we shared exploring the Korean Market, snacked on fermented blue crabs, baby crabs, ramen, glass noodles and more. I’ll enjoy my extended family (new ‘cousins’ I met while doing research at NARA) as we dig through the documents, the Jiapu, and of course more food.

Thank You, Universe!

Do you ever talk to the Universe? I not only talk to it but I also listen to, you know, that still, small voice that whispers in your mind’s ear. The one that teases and  coaxes, hints and downright pushes me towards those “pieces of the cosmic puzzle.” The one that reassures me that everything is in Divine Order no matter how crazy things look on the surface, that “this too shall pass,” and the sun will rise in the East tomorrow.

Today, I am especially thankful that I  listened as the Universe guided me in the direction of dreams – to China last year and to the completion of my book this year.

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I’m grateful to all the folks who have bought my book, read it, asked amazing questions, and even reviewed it. It has been so much more than the journey to China and the process of writing and publishing; it has been a spiritual journey that I will never forget.

I look forward to what lies ahead. Shhhh  . . . I think I hear the Universe calling.

Memoir of a Reluctant Medium

 

Thanks to Central VA IONS Community for inviting me to share my stories and some fun meditation exercises today. What a fantastic group! If you are not familiar with the Institute of Noetic Science, you should check it out: IONS

I am reluctant no more!

In celebration, I am offering a FREE e-book of Conversations with a Hungry Ghost:Memoir of a Reluctant Medium now through Monday. Click on the photo to go directly to Amazon and then, join the conversation.

 

What the hell!

Have you ever wondered what Hell is like? That’s where I journeyed the first time I saw my father’s ghost. Here’s a preview of his hell:
 
____Here I go again. A familiar tug at my third eye, a tingling sensation spread from my forehead pressing against my eye sockets and down to my upper lip as the music of Tibetan Buddhist monks chanting filled the meditation room. My spirit rose above my body as the veil between the meditation circle and the Tenth Hell of the Buddha disappeared. Before I could question what, I saw in my mind’s eye, the music pulled me deeper and deeper until I felt as if I’d slipped through Alice in Wonderland’s rabbit hole.
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My vision blurred around the edges, but before me, an intricately carved kang sat in an alcove adorned with painted panels depicting the seasons.
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Butterflies danced around spring white peonies, followed by ducks swimming by white lotus blossoms heralding summer. Balls of white chrysanthemums announced fall’s arrival while white plum blossoms created lacy patterns against a winter sky.
 
A Buddha-like man sat crossed legged on silk brocade cushions of saffron and maroon on the wooden kang used as a sofa or a bed. He propped his left elbow on a pile of pillows to his side, and his right arm rested on the scholar’s table that filled the middle of the kang during the day. Embroidered silk slippers sat at the ready on the saffron and maroon wool and silk rug with a classic shou/longevity medallion in the middle, and eight Taoist symbols of immortality adorned the border. Incense from bronze tripod incense burners strategically placed on each side of the kang wafted about him.
 
I recognized the man who sat folded up into a ball at the foot of the kang’s platform. I saw his white chef’s jacket pulled down exposing his flimsy undershirt. He sobbed as he pulled at his hair and slapped his exposed bony shoulders. Sweat dripped from his hairline and followed the curve of his back. He lifted his head. If I entertained any doubts before, they melted away when I saw my father’s face.
 
“Lord Buddha,” Dad said. “I am ashamed. I know what I did wrong.” Looking around at the others who writhed in agony in their corners of this hell, he knew his sins had caught up with him. “Will I be in the Tenth Hell forever?”
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