Let me tell you how I got started as a practitioner and began my spiritual journey in earnest.
When there was a “ghost” in the room, I’d be the last to know. When someone handed me a crystal, all I had in my hands was a cold rock. The only dead relatives I ever saw were in photographs.
But I wanted to believe.
I’ve always had an interest in the mysterious and the alternative, but for the most part struggled with a Christian identity that didn’t fit until my late teens. During this time of personal and spiritual reflection I was working on a few personal projects that I had hoped to turn into graphic novels someday. As I worked on them, which included drawing, writing, and storyboarding, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something…more to my stories. But at the time, I had no idea what that meant.
The beginning of a spiritual journey…or was it?
Later in my college years, I joined a dream circle with some pagan practitioners. I was fascinated and felt like this was somewhere I really needed to be, but…there were some self doubts. I had never seen a ghost or talked to a deity or felt the energy from sage or crystals. Still, I loved philosophy and had always been an avid dreamer. That was something, right?
One night, the leader of the group turned to me and told me that my new haircut reminded her of someone in a dream she had had. The girl in her dream was about thirteen, and she lived in an orphanage. The other children there seemed to look up to her and she was something of a caretaker. This was right during the Russian Revolution. Something about this girl stood out to my friend and she felt she needed to share the dream with me. Well, interesting. On my end I had been going through a bit of an obsession with Russia, so naturally this piqued my interest. That, in itself, was connected to something I had been writing about.
You know how, in life, you decide you want something and the universe does everything it can to prevent you from getting it? For me, it was visiting Silverton, Colorado; a little mining town from the late 1800s. When I finally went, I couldn’t explain the pull I had to it. It was the same pull I had felt towards Russia. Home? But how?
A woman I knew from another context did singing bowl readings and she offered to do one for me. Singing bowls, if you don’t know, are crystal or metal bowls that, when played, create a tone with a frequency and vibration that matches a certain energy. Through them, you can read or heal someone’s energy. I didn’t know what to expect. I had never felt the “energy” from anything, much less from a sound.
She had me lie on a makeshift lounge bed, and I enjoyed listening to her play. That was, until she placed a bowl over my heart and I began to have a panic attack. I nearly begged her to stop but held myself back until I couldn’t stand it anymore. When I nearly opened my mouth to stop the whole thing she moved away and continued playing elsewhere, and I felt fine again.
“What was that?” I asked her when it was over. I had never felt anything like that before.
My heart chakra had slammed shut and her attempt to open it sent me into a panic attack. She had registered the effect on her end without my ever saying anything. Wow. How could she have perceived something in my body?
I took the opportunity to ask her about my stories, my friend’s dream, and all these weird feelings I had been having. It was like the characters I was writing, along with the places, were important to me on a different level. It wasn’t just fiction. I knew it.
Here’s what she told me: I had an unusually high level of recall for past life memories. The girl in Russia, born in 1905, thirteen by the time my friend’s dream took place, was me. Before that, I was a teacher in an 1800s Colorado mining town called Ironton, which is now a ghost town not too far from Silverton.
But I didn’t believe in reincarnation. Reincarnation was…well, an interesting idea, if not a little troubling. Who am I if I was supposedly all these other people? That was when I realized that though my circumstances and stories may have changed, I remain, and there is some essential me-ness in all of these people.
When I moved from Colorado, I took all this with me. I went back and forth between the bay area and the foothills of central California, to little mining towns like Sonora, and the rest of my memories were born. With it, my first energetic experiences with crystals. My ability to dowse. My energy work. My clairvoyance. My awakening dream.
Turns out, I’ve been doing these things the whole time. I didn’t know what I was doing as a baby in a dim room seeing myself in other places, or when, as a toddler, I replaced a traumatic memory with a memory from an entirely different lifetime. I didn’t know why I felt ashamed or frustrated or scared of things I had never been exposed to. Why I screamed and hid whenever I saw a cop or a doctor. Why I felt like I knew people I had never met. I had just been waiting for the right time to tell myself what was going on.
What about you?
I’d be willing to bet that whatever your gifts or experiences are, you’ve had the same things happen. Your abilities have always been there waiting for you to draw them out. That’s why you don’t have to “learn” how to do these things from nothing; you’ve always been able to do something naturally. When people tell you that everyone is psychic, they mean it. It’s just a matter of connecting to yourself and trusting that your experiences are valid. So what threads of spiritual awareness have been in your life that you may have overlooked?
Have you been on your own spiritual journey all along and just haven’t realized it?