Who am I? Well. . .that's a question I've asked myself
over and over again and am still figuring it all out. ;-)
But I can share a bit about myself for those who care to know or need to know. . .
I grew up on a struggling farm
in Southern New Hampshire, where expressing my
feelings through writing poetry and lyrics
came natural to me since early childhood. For as long as I can
remember, I've known
that I was born to share my writings.
Within the past two decades I've been thrust into so many difficult experiences that
I feel like I've already lived several lifetimes within this one. . .and have accumulated a lot to write about and heal from.
I've written several publications, many hundreds
of poems and over seventy songs, which yearn
to touch the heart of humanity.
In 1995 I lost my first home to the NH
DOT's "Right of Eminent
Domain," in a way that severely dwindled my trust in my own government.
In the year 2001 I lost most of the things that
were important to me in, and around the time of, a fire that raged through my
next home. (Most of my writings were destroyed,
my dearest pets died, I lost two friends, a soul mate died, My health was stumbling,
my children were suddenly grown up and leaving...etc.!)
In the fall of 2001 I
purchased a little "Adirondack Shack" in Upstate New York and lived there for about a year and half, while aiming to
heal from these losses and regain
some of my balance.
During this time I did the best I could to resurrect
the "Embracing Feelings" manuscript I'd lost in the fire. Although this process was interrupted
by my youngest brother's death and too much turmoil in my family of origin, I pushed through it,
published it, and sold a few copies in New York through the spring and summer of 2003. (This book was met
with such severe opposition
from my family of origin that I pulled it off the market and aimed to revise it.)
In 2003 I sold my Adirondack Shack and explored the music business in Nashville,
where most of my songs were stolen. I pulled away from the music business. . .not knowing how
to get past the greed, which swarms new arrivals of original material.
At least one of my stolen songs later
became a
hit, which is sung by Tim McGraw - all but one verse in, "Last Dollar" is mine.
In the depths of my heart I feel glad that its touching people's hearts, but feel extremely sad that its earnings are
feeding the thief's greed, instead of those who are in need.
After leaving Nashville I did a spiritual retreat and fast in an Arizona desert - praying for answers. . .and then
pulled the rest of my money and energy into
producing
a bimonthly publication called, "The Personal Journal",
which focused on helping all of us to heal our Hearts through tough times.
(Projected income from this publication, and its products,
were to create a "Recovery/Healing Center" - a safe, supportive
environment for those of us who need time to
recover from sudden painful losses and experiences.)
During this time it felt important for me to put my all into my writings, because I did
not know how much longer I'd live.
I was struggling with a physical illness, which the doctors could not find, although I had them run multitudes of tests,
while I was in my Adirondack Shack.
In 2005, the Personal Journal and it's mission came up against such extremely
difficult chains of obstacles and opposition that it didn't stand a chance, because its
success depended upon obtaining support from the general public.
Groups of people drove against the success of The Personal Journal for reasons I'd felt baffled about.
Only seven issues were delivered to a few dozen people, because
I did not have the resources to
protect myself and my work from those who targeted me and fought against it's
success. (These people seemed to be part of a large dark occult.)
(A similar situation existed around my "Sharon's Bud" publication - a unique free
news paper, which was printed in May of 2007 and again in the fall of 2008.)
In short, the past several years of my life, especially since I
started publicly sharing my writings,
have been filled with a depth of difficulty that is nearly unbelievable.
I've been repeatedly hit with the type of
jealousy that has aimed to knock me down.
I've struggled to hold onto my Faith through invasions of
my homes, vehicles, email accounts, phones and computers;
Through being targeted and ridiculed by ill intending members of the media:
through being
plagiarized, slandered, harassed, stalked and even forced to fight
for my life on a few occasions: through homelessness
and sudden deaths of the only family members whom I could turn to for help...etc.
Its taken a few divine interventions
to just keep me alive thus far.
Through this turmoil my writings
veered into a fight for justice and a fight to save my life.
In this summer of 2011, a few pieces to the mysterious puzzle have begun clicking into place:
It appears that one of my "Personal Journal" subscribers is connected to the creation of a book entitled,
"The Shack," which contains many surprising similarities to various entries in The Personal Journal.
I've made a
statement about it in a book I finally finished pulling together, which is entitled,
"Remnants of The Personal Journals."
Another recent development in part of the mystery stalkers problem has been reported to the police after a disturbed man
who was enraged about sexual abuse being mentioned in my writings admitted to harassing phone calls after being confronted.
(I think that this man is probably the person who burned down my Potter Place, NH home, because other puzzle pieces
have come together around this situation also.)
Lucky me! Seems I've been being hit from several directions! (A bit of sarcasm here)
Am I exaggerating? I wish I were. Actually, I'm doing the opposite - I'm just dusting
the surface, because the rest is too close to being completely unbelievable and could probably fill several books.
Speaking of books. . .In the early winter of 2010 I wrote a book entitled,
"Out of the Dark" (then changed the title to "Into the Light"),
which includes many of the facts around some of these situations.
I wrote it in the car I was living in, while feeling unsure of
how much longer I'd live, because there'd just been a few attempts to kill me in ways that would make it look
like an accident or natural death. Writing and publicly sharing the manuscript to this book, was a desperate
attempt to not
die in silence. It seems to have saved my life.
The process of writing it also helped me
release some of my pain and bring a bit of clarity to a long, confusing,
unbelievable chain of events. (Since I wrote this, more has happened and more has been revealed) I pray that it is now over.
I
formed a business called
"Poetic Publications"
as a place to offer my publications on the web. I've not gotten very far with my work,
because my fight to survive
has taken most of my energy and focus. But I'm doing the best I can with what I have to work with.
Through the past several years I've also been battling Lupus,
which almost took my life in the 2006/2007 winter. (the fall of 2006 is when I was finally diagnosed.)
However, I've been overcoming it, because I refused harmful pharmaceuticals
and have been treating it with diet change,
natural herbs, large doses of water, more exercise. . .and mostly by doing energy work
on myself. This has been a grueling battle while dealing with everything else. There is more about this part of my struggle in
a statement I wrote on my personal fb page.
In this spring of 2011 I re-published two of my
books through
"AuthorsDen.com," but their servers suddenly
stopped working - making my books unpurchasable, directly after I sent an
email to hundreds of people,
announcing their availability! AD kept me hanging for a couple months, saying that it will be fixed within in a couple weeks,
before they
wiped my books from my page on their site and announced that they are no longer doing POD publishing.
I'm not sure if I am the only person they are doing this to or not,
because nobody answers my questions or gives clear explanations. (They also never paid me for the sale of at least three books.)
I recently found another avenue for "on demand publishing," but feel a bit uncomfortable
with them since they are connected to Authors Den.
There are many other projects I'd like to complete,
when I get the time and peace
I need, in order to work on them without interference. Four CDs of my songs and a
series of children's
books are still waiting in the wings of my dreams. . .as well as a few other projects.
I've done my best through this summer of 2011 to continue my work in ways that I can,
but seem to be taking two steps back after each step forward.
I need a miracle. I really do!
Through the past few years I've been feeling too tired and
overwhelmed to do a good job with my writings, while also struggling to navigate the obstacles and turmoil others throw into my path,
which has also left me
homelessness in a world that sometimes seems too
cruel, greedy and heartless to stand back up in. I'm sorry to be so blunt. Its just that
I've experienced so much of the dark side of humanity,
in the past few years, that it has crushed my previous,
naive perceptions. I've found the humility to ask for help over and over again, and have gotten
too much of the opposite instead.(However, I still feel/see the good in humanity, most of the time, although I've been forced to
face some of the greedy, dark and even evil parts of it.)
They say that God never deals us more than we can handle? I'm now feeling that this is not true.
I can deal with the poverty I've been cast into.
And I can deal with the losses and painful situations I've needed to heal from. But having to deal with
people stalking me and even trying to kill me. . ., through it all, has proven to be too much for me to handle effectively.
Its just been too much!
You might be wondering why I'm sharing all this and if I'm looking for pity or
. . .whatever. And the answer is that I'm sharing it because it seems to be keeping me alive;
because I'm letting go of my lifelong
habit of silently turning away - enabling hurtful behaviors, which isn't good for anyone involved;
because I feel,
to the core of my heart and soul, that we must face our pain, in order to heal our hearts:
because its healthy and healing to talk about things we feel hurt by - sharing hurtful experiences helps
us release the pain. My reasons for sharing such private parts of my life are
for the sake of healing, not only for myself,
but also for those who can be validated or helped by my experiences.
I have, since early childhood,
had a deep concern for all of humanity - for the HEART of humanity in particular. I can't fully explain why.
I seem to have been born with this focus and probably could have done a lot more with it if I'd not
taken so many wrong turns in my own life. If I had to do it all over again I'd listen to my calling and head for a convent or monastery...etc.
Please don't judge me, because I don't deserve such negativity. And please don't put me onto a pedestal, because
I'm no saint - too far from it!
I feel like I need a three year retreat in peaceful, safe solitude,
in order to fully regain my balance, strength and health. But with no respite in sight I do my best to survive and continue my work.
Through the past few years I've taken on several temporary jobs, which have added to my distress more than relieving it.
(I've been shocked by how people are treated in the types of jobs that are available to me in our struggling economy.)
Since the summer of 2010 I've been working on gathering the hope that wrote
"Embracing Feelings"
in 1999; the inspiration, which started
"The Personal Journal" in 2004; the strength that created "Sharon's Bud" in 2007;
the courage that wrote
"Out of the Dark"/"Into the Light" in 2010; and the Wisdom that is growing from my own mistakes
and experiences with these publications. . .so that I could begin building them into
"The Heart Bud" into what my life's work was meant to be - a ray of help for the Heart of humanity.
I'm doing it! There have been two printings, thus far. And The Heart Bud hopes to grow into a full blossom.
But lately, I'm also wondering if its becoming too late for me -
if my recent half hearted efforts are in vein -
if what I'm doing, at this time, is good enough to make a positive shift in our troubled world.
I keep plugging along, because I'd feel like even more of a failure if I didn't. But I'm starting to feel like a hypocrite, because I'm no longer
doing much of the healing work I write about.
When I look at the scope of what I've been through in the past few years,
my mind can form a good excuse for feeling so tied up, but my heart knows that I need to be in a better place within myself.
I need help. I am in desperate need of
a SAFE, peaceful place to live, healthy food, a healthy way to keep my bills
paid, and time to heal my heart's struggling bud into the blossom it was born to become.
Through the past few years I've deeply prayed,
Dear God
by Sharon R. Poet
Yes. I hear the dreams you speak.
But I need more help.
I'm still weak.
Let me rest a while.
Please.
Inside the Love
You have for me.
Let me gain
The strength I need
To patch these holes
Where I still bleed.
Please.
Copyright by Sharon R. Poet with all rights reserved
