For the whole span of my childhood and adolescence, any hope I had came not from the adults in my life, or my religion, or anywhere else in my world, but only from inside me. This hope was a small spark that never totally went out and, as puny as it was, it kept me going when nothing else did. I remember in some of my earliest memories, the joy that lived in my heart not because of the circumstances of my life, but BECAUSE I was alive and I sensed how awesome a gift that was. As I grew up, the joy faded when those closest to me refused to nurture or love me. The older I got, the more misunderstood and lost I felt. I felt isolated and alone. I did not feel loved, or like I had a purpose in being here.
In my darkest moments, I had an out-of-body experience powerful enough to echo through decades without losing any of its impact. I was shown how to extricate my spirit from toxic influences. I was given pure, unfathomable, ecstatic, unconditional love; felt echoes of thousands of years of memories; and was given the promise that I could complete the challenge set in front of me. The primary message given to me from my spirit guide was simply: have faith. It lifted me up and was the life-saver I needed to get back on track.
There was so much that didn’t make sense to me. I’ve been on a quest ever since to make sense of… everything.
And strangely, in the forty years I’ve been alive, I’ve answered almost all of my questions.
But that’s not enough for me anymore.
After losing my brother so suddenly, I want to make sure the answers I’ve worked so hard to find are recorded somewhere if anything happens to me. I want my kids to have access to these answers, if they need them. I want them to know this part of who I am, when they’re ready to learn about it. I teach them what I can in the moment, but some of these concepts only have a real impact when we’re older and ready to truly listen.
Because of unfortunate circumstance, there was almost nothing left behind when my brother died, but memories and a few old photos. He left me wishing I had greater insight into who he really was, deep down, and what he wondered about. I wish he’d written out more of who he was, besides what’s found on his Facebook memorial account. I never want to leave those who love me with that kind of void.
Plus, I feel it’s selfish to keep so much to myself when others could possibly benefit from it as much as I have.
No one should have to live with fear and confusion. Faith doesn’t have to mean religion, but it can sustain us through any trial. Everyone should know they’re loved, even if the people around you don’t love you as well as you deserve. If you truly love yourself, through and through, flaws and all, knowing you’re exactly who you are for a reason, then you can get through any challenge set in front of you. You don’t need anything from others in order to thrive. If you know where to look, everything necessary is already there inside you. What’s more, you can use it to help shed some light on this sometimes-murky world of ours for those lost in shadow.
I want there to be more light-shedding in this world of ours. More hope. More love. This blog is my little spark in the dark, burning as bright as it can.