Non Fiction - Memoir
Date Published: August 25, 2015
Fiona Havlish is an engaging inspirational speaker and success coach whose stories entertain and inspire those going through drastic life transitions. You would never guess that she stuttered as a child and spent the better part of her life trying to remain invisible while navigating her own journey in silence, hiding behind her roles as wife, mother, and nurse.
On September 11th 2001, after dropping her daughter off at childcare, she answered her cell phone oblivious to the fact that she was about to be shaken out of her hiding place and awakened to her own gifts of intuition, clairaudience, and healing.
In Full Voice is a story about one woman's triumphant journey through trauma, loss, grief, illness (and even a flood) that led her to find her own voice so that she can help others uncover and share their own gifts with the world.
Fiona Havlish is an intuitive healer through the use of life’s transformational wake up calls. She has a BSN degree, is a reiki master and success coach who works through the energetic spiritual realm. She currently lives in Boulder Colorado with her daughter, Michaela, where she enjoys sharing her newest energy practice, Raindrop Technique, and singing duets with her Boston Terrier, Molly, who is an amazing singer herself.
Trip of Gratitude:
DURING THE FIVE WEEKS of our trip we drove through fifteen states and had about 200 conversations with people from all walks of life. Everyone I spoke with had stories related to 9/11 to share and asked many questions. They loved our story, and they especially enjoyed hearing that whatever they sent to help (money, quilts, teddy bears, loving thoughts, cards, songs, poems, etc.) was deeply appreciated, and we knew it came from their hearts.
I find it sad that it takes a tragedy for citizens to pull together and show their true colors of heart-centered love. Towards the end of our trip, we stopped at a local roadside diner in Flagstaff, Arizona for dinner. The sun was just set- ting, and it cast a purple glow across the horizon. I had been driving for about eight or ten hours straight. The waitress came up to our table and poured us some water.
“You look tired. Traveling?”
“ Yes,” I sighed and looked up at her. She appeared to be in her early thirties, short and slightly overweight. She had black hair with flecks of gray and a kind face. I noticed that she looked tired too.
“Just you and your daughter?” She looked at us puzzled.
“Where are you headed?” “Not sure,” I said. “How can you go on a trip and not know where you are going?”
“Take a deep breath, pack the car and go forward,” I replied.
“That takes a lot of guts. I don’t think I could do that. Why are you doing this?”
I inhaled deeply. I was always nervous before I’d share what we were doing because I didn’t want to upset anyone.
“My daughter and I are on a Trip of Gratitude. I lost my husband and Michaela’s father on 9/11 in the terrorist attack, and because everyone shared from their hearts I fell in love with this country. I’m on this trip to give back by expressing my gratitude, and share stories. I’d like to hear your story. Do you have one?”
She became teary and had to pause for a minute. This part was always difficult for me. I felt responsible that I was upsetting her. My intention was not to hurt people, but to build them up, yet to enter the doorway to gratitude always seemed to require going through pain or sadness or some kind of emotion that didn’t feel good. In every conversation I’d had, this was the moment I would think of quitting, but I had learned to sit and be with them in their pain. I knew how important it was to tell the stories to someone who wanted to listen. I knew it would help free their bodies of the trauma of the experience. I waited for her to regain her words.
“I am so sorry,” she said. “Thank you.” “Yes, I have a story. I am so proud of my children. They were eight and ten, and when they saw what happened on TV, they began to cry for the children who had lost parents. We didn’t know anyone in the building or planes. They decided to raise money to help them, so they created a lemonade stand for 9/11 families and within two weeks they had made over $700. It was the best they ever did with a lemonade stand! I was so proud of them. They donated it all to the Red Cross. That experience changed their lives. It was the first time that they became aware that there is a bigger world beyond their lives in Flagstaff, and that they could make a difference, even if it’s a small one.”
“I want you and your children to know that what you all did made a huge difference in our lives, and for that we are grateful.”
“We really did?” Her face lit up. “No one has ever told us that.”
“Well, now I’m here telling you. We are so grateful for you.”
We hugged, and then she hugged Michaela. I asked her to give her children a hug from us too.
As we drove away from the diner, I left with a clearer sense than ever before that we all are connected and we are all one. That love is the most powerful force in the universe, and it exists everywhere. After 9/11, help showed up in all different forms of aid and assistance, but it was the love behind the support that affected me. We never can know the full impact of each thought and every act; nor can we know the reason behind every tragedy, but it’s there, and it’s real. Out of this heinous act, these children discovered they could turn their empathy into love in action, and they made a difference in my life and the lives of thousands of others.