I Knew Someday I'd Write...

I knew I was to write an autobiography someday! As a twelve year old, I’d sit on my bed, on a cozy down-filled puff covered in a fuzzy fake Zebra skin, daydreaming. My bedroom was divided in half by a canopy bed, a flowery and ruffled bedspread, and walls which my younger sister had chosen to paint a soft, yellow. This was juxtaposed with my side which was painted a deep purple, with black trim! I’d daydream trying to imagine what I’d be writing my life story about. What in the world could my life add up to, that would warrant an autobiography, I’d ask myself. You see, up to this point I knew my life was different than most kids. I knew this because my family was a missionary family and we recently had moved from a sad, and hellish life in the south Bronx, New York City, to this sleepy, segregated, small waterfront community in Virginia.

My life was different - just couldn’t quite pinpoint exactly why I felt like that made me stick out from the other kids like a swollen thumb. My accent gave me away once I’d open my mouth! This constantly landed me in the principal's office, for being fresh. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t raised using “yes ma’am, or no sir,” etc.

Fast forward to when my first child was born and I became a parent. This was the greatest gift and joy of my life. My daughter, Heather’s birth was a miracle to me! Along with the unconditional love unleashed from my heart, terror was triggered deep in the core of my being. It frightened me when the terror arose. I’d see myself doing horrible things to my baby, to quiet her when she was crying relentlessly. I’d lock her in her bedroom, creating a stop gap between she and I, when I became unknown and frightening to myself. Having these frightening bouts with a violent rage unfamiliar to me, other than when witnessing my mother’s outbursts of rage, scared me enough to motivate me to seek understanding. I asked to know the truth! Why do I have these feelings of hatred towards myself and terrifying thoughts of doing harm to another, to my vulnerable baby? Thankfully I never hurt her! However, my darling little one gave me the reason to choose to live and seek the truth, while traveling through ugly and lonely bouts with self-loathing, depression, and suicidal ideations.

Finally my body suffered from what became a ‘mysterious’ illness amongst the allopathic community I had sought for help. My body shut me down, landing me in bed, flat on my back, for hours, then days, then weeks at a time. Until finally I had a complete body, mind, spirit, and emotional collapse. I was diagnosed with sepsis, “a serious condition resulting from the presence of harmful microorganisms in the blood or other tissues and the body’s response to their presence, potentially leading to the malfunctioning of various organs, shock, and death”. I “died” and then expanded into a near death experience. A task, to find my Holy Grail, was given to me from all the essence we have named ‘God’, SourceLove, Divine Intelligence, and Great Spirit. I had a death wish. If I chose life and love then I was tasked with discovering/uncovering why. Or I would be forgiven and loved if my choice was to cross over.

Recovering from this life-changing event, landed me in bed permanently, with a bone deep exhaustion robbing me of my lifeforce, I took to my bed for a year. I read the Bible from cover to cover and highlighted the vibrational energy present that spoke Christ’s words, sending shivers through my body, hardening my nipples! Not much got my body buzzing, sadly!

As my body spoke it’s needs to me my mind and emotional body veered the other way, and filled me with terror. My Soulful self, in charge now, was calling to me, whispering and beckoning me to go into deep contemplation and conversation with my core self- I was terrified. The terror flowed freely, like a river. moving the rocks and boulders, forcing the river's natural flow to be blocked, altered. Self-hatred and self loathing, replaced Self-Love, my Soulful self’s naturally flowing energy. From deep within a cauldron was boiling. A transformation was happening!

I was suffering from soul sickness, from the loss of my soul.

What does that mean? Loss of my soul? I discovered that I lived in a state of panic, with the flight trigger constantly being “hit”, causing my body to release adrenaline, but the adrenals never fully shut back down. So a constant stream of adrenaline flows if one cannot escape or fight; a ‘shutdown’ occurs, causing trapped emotions to stay within my cellular memory. I was diagnosed with P.T.S.D., in 1991.

I had no idea what love meant. I was so frightened of the strong emotions which rose up in me, uncontrollable, whenever I held my baby close. The thoughts running through my mind were so contradictory to the love that flowed like a Vermont spring thaw. I was in love with my baby. But every time I held her close my mind spoke lies. Repulsive lies which said my love would kill her. It will poison her and kill her. How could this be possible, I wondered in the dead of night, restless, frightened, and unable to sleep. Please, I prayed. I begged for mercy, to be shown the truth.

I have always sought to know the deeper wisdom and mysteries of the unseen world. My own need to seek to know the truth became my passion and reason for being. Learning to choose Self love to heal the fear and self-loathing which infected everything I touched, became a huge motivator. I choose courage over fear when they clashed! My intention for my daughter was to free her from inheriting her mother’s (my) fearful projection’s. This was a loving invitation for me to delve into my inherited family lineage patterns, from my own mother. Little did I know the road this would hurl me onto...and continues to be a continual, daily choice of falling in love with myself. Brilliant, creative, intelligent, playful, kind, intuitive, empathetic, unconditionally loving me!

I began falling in love with life and myself when I asked to know love. I needed to know what love was because what was called love, hurt. I asked to know its nature, its power, its obsessive qualities which had captured me. I committed to loving myself.

What I quickly discovered when I felt off- like some comment, action, or gesture was out of harmony, I realized I felt it immediately in my body. In my gut I felt like I had just received a punch. A hard punch. My practice became a choice to flip the scenario to the opposite end of the feeling spectrum and imagine a different out come. I then felt that outcome in my mind’s eye! Through this constant vigilance with myself exploring love, I learned to ask to be shown love, and to trust myself when the answers came. Second guessing myself, I quickly realized, was an addiction to worry and it’s core root was Self-loathing.

My truth came through paintings, poems, songs, and the invitation to share them with others in multimedia sacred performances, shared with churches, women’s crisis services, which culminated in a tri-state community multimedia art event, called: Heartwork, Art Emerging from Silence.

My last write of this fantastic life I have chosen, was written 12 years ago, and was 800 pages! Oh joy! “My Time” is not 800 pages and is described by my editor as a ‘kick ass, page turning, beautiful read’. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have loved writing my story!

Please do let me know!