My Story

When I was around 6 years old, I looked at myself in the mirror, and tried to see my soul through my eyes. I looked deeper and deeper, and questioned who and what I was. I knew that the physical body was just a part of me but not the only part and not the most important.

I have always been a deep thinker. A curious child. I especially loved to think about God and the mystery of creation. I always talked to Jesus, and even saw him once in his ethereal body. I taught my stuffed animals about Jesus and his teachings using a Children’s Encyclopedia of Jesus’ Life. I prayed every night and made sure to include every living and non-living thing in my prayer. There was never a question about the inner realm, the unseen world of Spirit, I just knew.

But then I did my first “holy” communion…

My First “Holy” Communion

I had a hard time with religion, but I loved God fiercely. I questioned the authenticity of what I was being taught, not believing that it was natural to fear God, when I could only Love Him. From a young age I realized that I felt closer to God, to Creator, when I was quiet and in prayer in the intimacy of my own room; while at church it was quite an opposite vibe. I must admit I saw images in my mind that were disturbing while I sat in church and now that I know myself and my gifts, I’m sure I was picking up on what was happening behind the scenes.

I will never forget my first “holy” communion. I was taught that I was a sinner, and that Jesus was brutally sacrificed for my sins because that was the will of God. I remember thinking this didn’t sound right or make sense but since I was a child and the adults knew more than me, I followed along. All the while, still having my own quiet relationship with Jesus and God.

The day of the Holy Communion felt so special. It was my day, I was wearing a beautiful dress, there where flowers in my hair and everyone was excited about my participation in this sacrement. I was excited too! I knew exactly what I was supposed to do; share that I was a sinner and confess my sins. Except I was 6 and really anything I did at that point was a childish mistake and not really what I would consider a sin, so I had just the perfect plan.

I remember it clearly, walking into that tiny closet of a confessional made of wood, so excited about how I would impress the priest with how sinful I was. It felt very weird not to see the priests face as he was in another wooden box on the other side. I told the most horrible lies, to demonstrate that I was taught well and that I truly understood I was a sinner. I didn’t know what I was doing, except that I was doing what I was told and being who I was expected to be. I told the priest I spit on someone, punched my mother in the face, smoked a cigarette and was mean to my dog. They were lies! I thought it would be a huge disappointment if I didn’t know what to say. It was a horrible experience.

I walked out of that church feeling a deep hole inside, like I had done what I was expected to do but had seriously betrayed myself in the process. I felt so much guilt about the lies I told, and lying at all. I felt a little empty inside after that day. Confused and a little farther from God. It was the exact opposite of communion with God.

And it only got worse from there; come the time to “Confirm”!

Giving up the Catholic Church and My “Unholy” Questions in Confirmation

Let’s fast forward to tenth grade. My mother signed me up for a confirmation class because apparently I was behind on my catholic rites of passage. I was interested in attending and finding out what this was all about. I loved any opportunity to talk about God, with books, around a table with other people. This is literally still one of my favorite things to do! However, that was not my experience at Confirmation Class.

I asked a lot of questions, and those questions were not received very well. The teacher looked like he wanted to kill me with his stare because I dared ask any questions. I thought this was a discussion not an indoctrination! Little did he know, I had so much faith, I talked to God everyday in mind, day in and night out. My love for God was so big, God was the only experience I really cared about.

I asked, if humanity comes from one man and one woman, and if children usually look like their parents, how on earth could we all be so different, Blacks, Indians, Asians. He did not like that question. I asked why a plant like marijuana is criminal. It’s natures medicine. Why would it grow if God didn’t want us to have it? He liked that question even less! I don’t think I necessarily wanted an answer but to openly discuss my very real curiosities about what I saw in every day life and the stories in the Bible. Evidently, thinking was not allowed, much less asking questions.

Finally my mother was called in and told I could not take part in the ceremony, because they could not “confirm” my belief. My mother was told I had to do another year! I was furious! How dare they judge my faith! There was no way I was going to do another year, of walking through rain and snow to listen to the same story. My mom couldn’t believe I was refusing to go again the following year. She said: “Don’t you want to get married in a church? I said, is that what this is about? As a matter of fact, no! I want to get married on a beach, by a river, on a plane, on top of a mountain, IF, I get married at all! And that, was that. I was never “confirmed”.

Obviously, I didn’t have a good experience with the Catholic religion I was raised in. And God was just not a topic talked about in my environments. Sure enough, it was something I thought about less and less as I got older. I was in the external world so much that I forgot about my Spirit, and the Inner Realm.

I started to seek security and meaning in external things: education, career, lifestyle, relationships. And after every achievement there was a quick and fleeting moment of happiness, and then a deep feeling of disconnection, loneliness, doubt and fear.

Thankfully my love for reading brought back to memory a deeper reality of my being. Books like the Power of Now by Eckart Tolle, Conversations with God by Neale Donald Walsh, Seat of the Soul by Gary Zukov, One Day My Soul Just Opened Up by Iyanla Vanzant and so many others invited me on an inner journey again, to find what I once lost but can never really lose. An awareness of Inner Guidance resurfaced in me, but nothing quite shifted my experience until…

I found A Course in Miracles in 2004.
Welcome to My Journal….
Thank you for being here.

These posts are best experienced in order, the next post is titled Awakening from the dream