Editor’s note: Elephant is a diverse, reader-created community. We welcome all points of view, especially when offered mindfully. And so, with that grain of salt…enjoy!
It was a cold winter night—I was exhausted from a long day of clients, feeling super off and absolutely done.
I climbed into bed and cuddled up to my husband, wanting nothing more than just to be embraced.
You can imagine what I felt when he jolted back and said, “Babe, I’m not trying to be rude but your breath reeks!”
I had such an emotional response (probably too emotional) from that rejection. After all, I am one of those people who never misses a dental appointment, and I even carry floss in my purse for my three times a day routine. I immediately ran downstairs, rinsed with baking soda, brushed my teeth, and gargled with salt—no matter how hard I tried, the stench would not go away.
As tears and frustration overcame my entirety, I heard my healing teacher’s voice in my head, “bad breath, bad spirit.”
The tears immediately stopped and sadness quickly transmuted into fear. I thought to myself, “Sh*t! Do I have a bad spirit attachment?”
I remembered learning early on in my career as an Angel Intuitive, that there are three things to look out for if you think you have a spirit attachment: feeling sick, unhinged, or just not your usual self.
My day flashed before me, and I realized something had felt really off all day.
The next morning, my gnarly breath and I got up and went to the doctor. I tested positive for a urinary tract infection—which I found strange as I had no other symptoms. But that is all the doctor was able to detect.
So I decided to investigate, beginning with the day before all of this happened. I had bartered a healing session with a colleague who had a super high energy. She also does healing work, so we did a trade, which is pretty common in the healing services world.
In that session, she had a deceased loved one who came to me. No big deal, I do what I always do as an intuitive, and we carried on. She reciprocated with some body healing work, and I left. Nothing out of the ordinary for either of us.
After I got home from the doctor’s office, I called the woman I had bartered with so she tuned back in remotely, and immediately felt a lingering attachment to me. After she performed some additional energy work, the spirit and my charming breath finally left.
Later, when I reflected on our service barter, I realized that the entire exchange just didn’t feel good to me in that moment. It wasn’t a big, “hell yes!” feeling in every cell of my body. It was more of a, “sure why not” feeling, and unfortunately, I went along with it anyway.
One of the teachings I learned very early on in my healing arts studies, was to always honor yourself and others in the exchange of energy.
You do this by exchanging money.
My Feng Shui teacher, Dr. Edgar Sung at the BTB School of Feng Shui, in San Francisco, taught us that you honor your energy by exchanging money in a red envelope—even if it’s a small amount of money. Red, being auspicious in Chinese Medicine, protects the giver and the receiver.
I’m not saying it’s necessary to put money in a red envelope, what I’m saying is that it’s necessary to have an energy exchange with the other person. It’s also important that you feel good about this exchange, both during and after.
From my bad breath, unwanted spirit experience, I’ve learned that it’s necessary for me to honor my time and worth. When I don’t, it lowers my frequency, and I become vulnerable to outside energies and attachments.
The same concept holds true when you’re receiving a service.
Instead of searching for the more affordable or cheaper experience, try tuning into the one that feels super juicy to your own heart.
When you stand in your truth and value your worth—and the worth of others, your frequency is much higher. Making you less likely to receive unwanted entities cuddling up to your energetic field.
For the sake of my practice, and my breath, I have stopped bartering my services. Instead, I clearly mark my boundaries with spirit attachments by valuing my time, charging what I am worth, and when appropriate, I exchange red envelopes with my clients.
Have you have a similar experience?
If so, can you trace it back to a time when you may not have been valuing your worth, or someone else’s at the time?