It was exactly two years ago, when I met someone through social media, & the spiritual group I used to admin for with 19 other wonderful souls, for Lightworkers & Empaths. A ‘How to survive in this wicked world when you feel so much’ kind of guide; a support group for ‘extremely sentient beings.’ I was in my element, having gone through so much crap, knowing that if I made it through anyone can. I lasted two years – it took a toll on me when I saw how many people just refused to wake up, stuck in their ‘poor me’ victim mode. I thought, ‘If I could just word it this way, they’ll get it this time.’ Much like my blogging 😉 But as we are well aware of, “Doing the same thing over & over & expecting different results, is – altogether now: INSANE!
But the fierce desire I have in me to wake up the others can’t be an accident.
“Soaring Through the Storm” was to be a compilation of 30 ‘earth angels’ stories – 30 people who’d made it through hell to get to their slice of heaven. The project was headed by the compiler in Toronto, with LWL Publishing House. Well – that’s definitely me! I was beyond delighted when I got the invitation to participate. I submitted my chapter & was ecstatic to hear it was just what they were looking for. Contracts were signed, payments were made. Could this really be the beginning of a new career as an author? Alas, like many projects, this one wasn’t without a few bumps in the road. Between not enough participants, a drop-out, & a kerfuffle I’m not aware of, the project was shelved. My heart sank. Now what?
I looked for something else to throw myself into. I don’t know exactly how it happened, but it did: I found myself at the dollar store buying painting supplies. After watching youtube vids for inspiration, I came across one dude assuring people that the whole “I can’t draw or paint” spiel we self-hypnotize ourselves with all our lives was an outright lie & I think I set out to prove him wrong. Instead, he proved himself right. For $20 dollars, I bought some cheap paints, brushes & canvases. I set myself up on my living room coffee table over a tarp, full knowing I hadn’t a clue about what I was about to do.
With my brushes & paints all set-out, a cup of water for rinsing, my mini-canvas on my mini-easel, I set out to do I don’t know what. Really. I had only watched a few minutes of a few instructional vids, never being the patient type. I’ve been the Queen of starting stuff I don’t finish for far too long – ask anyone who knows my “I’m going to teach myself acoustic guitar” days, & about my friends laughter at my impatient frustration of not being ‘Jimi Hendrix’ in two weeks. After months of inconsistent self-lessons from youtube, notes n chords practiced in front of the tv, trying to build up those callouses, I realized that this is a lot harder than I ever thought.
But gladly, painting, I stuck with. Armed with orange I painted my first background, & with my favorite color blue I started painting some spirally shapes which started to look like a bunch of free flowing ribbons. I wish I had a picture of that background before it became what it became; but learning to photograph my work through its’ various stages was something I learned a little later 😉 I still cannot, even as I write this, produce an explanation that would satisfyingly describe how the painting came to be what it is. Looking back, I can only surmise that it was a strong connection to my intuition, or what I describe as the Universe.
For we are all connected. Consciousness 🙂 This & many other little things came together as one & gave me the proof I needed that this physical world is just an illusion & that we are so much more than just these physical bodies. That we can communicate with the Universe, & that I do. It is a living being of energy, of consciousness. As are we. Because what ‘magically’ appeared on my canvas could not have been a better depiction of someone “Soaring Through a Storm.”
How this girl who looks like me, or the tornado before her, or the angel behind the storm, seemingly summoning me into the golden light, appeared, I’m still not sure.
Then I discovered that Intuitive Painting IS a thing!
And just let go.
Now I know: The Universe wanted to show me that book or no book, I had made it through my storm.
And the chapter became my first blog, called “The Importance of Finding Yourself.”