Anyone who knows me well, knows that I am sorely “directionally challenged”. Without maps or compasses I could never get to unknown addresses on time. Thankfully, technology has assisted my diminished capacity for course-correction by giving me a device with quick answers when I get lost. It’s called a GPS (Global Positional System). In a way, my spiritual direction was also challenged through out my life until I realized that the device for course-correction was “inside me” as apposed to looking for answers outside of myself. So here is my story…
My first desperate plea to the Divine occurred very young in my life. I awoke in the night with the realization that people die. I was less than 6 at the time, and it occurred to me that my grand parents were nearing the end of their lives, and that one day I would not have them around me. This certainty disturbed me greatly, as I sat in the darkness with plump tears accompanying the dread in the center of my chest. It was around this time, that I began experiencing a reoccurring sensation; a sensation that I had no-name for, nor a context with which to understand. It was as if something was missing in my existence, yet I knew not where to look, or how to reclaim it. I was sure, however, that when I found it, I would recognize it, and know it once again. I now look back and know what that tiny girl was looking for. She was yearning to be home; where she lived before being born and where only a high vibration of love existed. This pure and sensitive girl was often confused upon this physical plane where there existed so much fear, heartache and loss.
Religion was not helpful in my early years. Sunday school teachers could not answer the thirsty questions about the nature of God. Additionally, I could not relate to the God that was described in the sermons and scriptures, especially the God that was angry and vengeful, and who taught the idea of retaliation (an eye for an eye). I knew deep inside that where-ever God lived, that Love was the primary quality that existed. I remembered that truth somehow.
When I was 14, I attended a Catholic high-school in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan. I especially enjoyed the teacher who taught Christian Ethics. In his class we were assigned to study and complete a report about any religion that interested us. I studied the Mormon religion because we had Mormon missionaries who often visited our family and so was curious. The preliminary lesson which the missionaries presented centered around three crucial questions. 1/ Who am I? 2/Why am I here on this earth? And 3/What happens to me after I die? At that time, these were important questions and I was both amazed and thrilled that this religion had all the answers. The Mormon Church became a significant part of my life for the following 20 years. I married a man who had several generations of involvement in the church, and the morals and principles became the bonding glue that sealed my commitment to both my husband and the culture that we embraced. I spent the next decade blissfully involved in the church programs and raising our young children.
Sometime after having my fourth child, I began to question some of the more rigid concepts of the Mormon faith. In my quest for answers I strayed from church material in my reading, and thirsted for a broader base of knowledge. I was experiencing a crisis of my faith in a manner; however it also encompassed the personal question of “Who am I – really?” During a particularly difficult period, I remember waking up and recognizing that I had a bright dream with a message. In the dream, I was feeling lost and very sad about my situation and I was sitting by the front window witnessing the cold and bleak weather outside. The door quietly opened and closed, and into the room came a man dressed in a large parka that covered most of him; and his hood was up. He had bright eyes with a blueness that penetrated me. A kind smile rested gently on his lips, and a light growth of facial hair sprinkled his beard area. I looked into his eyes, and recognized him immediately (though I could not recall his name). I remembered his energy, and the rich abiding love that he had for me. At that point I did not love myself and was instead consumed with self-inflicted shame, so I remember feeling utterly astounded at the measureless love that exuded from his being towards me. I became weak, trembling and childlike as I stood in front of him. He walked towards me and took me into his arms to hold and hug me. I could feel the fabric of his parka, and absorbed the purity of his love. I did not want to ever be let go. I knew he had to leave, and I did not want to be left behind without his kind of love surrounding me. I turned to the window in sadness, and again he came behind me to hold me and give me assurance before he left. I remember hearing the door lightly close which woke me up and left me in a state of wonderment for days. I knew that this kind of love was not a romantic love; it was a love that was beyond this world, and that this being knew about all of me and yet still loved me. I did not share my dream with others and protected it with my silence. At the time, I thought the being was Jesus, as he played a large part of my religious life, yet as I recall it now, and add what I have learned over the years, I know that the being was my spirit guide. That was over 20 years ago, and the experience was the beginning of many dreams which became regular communication with the divine energies in charge of my progress.
After my fifth child, I became restless and began taking various courses at university. The experience sent me down a road from which I could not return. I made friends outside of the church, and relished the intellectual stimulation that existed outside of the church doctrine. I also received recognition from instructors and peers of my unique intelligence and gift for expression through speaking and writing. My favorite courses focused on writing and human behavior. I found myself resisting the rules and authority that the church exerted. This destabilized my marriage and at the time I was not mature enough to know how to leave my marriage with grace and humility. I severed the ties with the church and also for some amount of time became an enemy to the father of my children. And thusly came the end of my marriage, my supportive community, and my belief in any traditional religion. For many years after, I was a searching soul who knew not what to believe. Everything that was familiar had dissolved; my illusion of a happy family, being a good wife and woman became shattered concepts. I remember in my mind’s eye watching a scene of myself appear during a solitary walk. There I was, wandering out of the rubble of my past, naked; with nothing to support or to cleave unto. The surrounding area looked like a bomb had gone off and everything was burned to the ground. Smoke and heat filled the vision. The survivor (who was me), was not without raw and painful scars and she walked out alone. It was the darkest of nights, yet the first time in my existence that I felt truly awake and alive. I remember finding a poem that described my experience to perfection; “and then the day came, when staying tight in a bud was more painful than it was to blossom”. What happened could not have occurred any other way, yet I fully regretted the pain that my blossoming caused to my dear children and their father. I felt both unstable and unsupported for some time.
Over the next years I experienced life differently. One might say that I tasted of many of the fruits that were forbidden to me in my previous existence. Even so, I still found myself searching, reading, meditating and speaking to the Divine through my journals and prayers. I chose not to attend organized religion, and the cost of that choice was my lonely isolation from like-minded souls. In my solitary quest, I soon realized that I had an internal core within me that reverberated with knowing each time I came across sources of truth. This inner-knowing became activated any time a next-step was to emerge. Books fell off shelves into my hands, people crossed my path with messages and support and community gradually built around me. My inner-knowing eventually became my primary guidance. My chosen career was serving my community as an advocate of peace through counseling and mediating conflict. I loved this, but somehow knew inside me that my highest potential was still yet to be born. I yearned to embrace my passion of teaching and counseling others to include spiritual and transformational concepts. Within the last 4-5 years, I was drawn to Spiritual Psychology; both reading and attending seminars which taught material related to this.
The term “Lightworker” also activated something deep within me, and I knew that I had signed up to be a Lightworker during this very chaotic time of change upon the earth. My life is presently focused on preparing myself for my sacred calling. I am learning about the tools to assist others in their personal transformation. At the same time, I am clearing past issues in order to be an integrated and clean vessel to assist and serve humanity in my highest capacity. The view of my past is much easier now than when I was experiencing it. I feel like I have more trust in the unknown and I have an understanding that the Divine wastes nothing; so my capabilities and gifts will surely be used when the time is right. It is also easier now to love, forgive and accept myself. Within this view I see that all in my past has been perfectly orchestrated in order for me to learn, to feel, to understand and to more fully be present for another during similar times of darkness. I am a light and a mirror for others and when I look into another’s eyes, I am no longer surprised when I see myself.