"Silent Voices of the Soul"-Book Excerpt- "Spiritual Transformation"

Before I invited light into my life, the condition of the living room didn’t bother me. I didn’t see the cracks and holes in the walls. I never noticed that paint had been peeling. Now that I was in the process of healing myself, those things were unacceptable. The living room was an extension of my former vibration. It was not a reflection of the energy I had become.

It took a while for me to make the connection. The more time I spent in the living room, the more depressed I felt. I was writing in my journal when Spirit whispered the reason why. The walls were in a state of disrepair. They reminded me of who I used to be.

Changes needed to be made. There was just one problem: I didn’t know where to start.

When I asked John for his input, I discovered we didn’t share the same perception. He didn’t see the need for change. John had served in Vietnam. He was a front-line soldier. His tolerance for uncomfortable living conditions by far surpassed my own.

While my husband couldn’t relate to how I was feeling, he offered his support.
He suggested that we paint the living room. John agreed to help with the prep work. I volunteered to do the painting. The next day we purchased our supplies and started the project together.

It felt good to remove chipped paint from the wall and watch it fall to the floor. Bit by bit, piece bit piece, I was getting rid of something old to replace it with something new. While I was scraping, I remembered the negative energies I had released from my life: self- destructive thoughts, a pessimistic attitude, and a belief system based in lack.

Some areas were easier to scrape than others.

There was a crack on the ceiling. At first I didn’t think it was serious. But when I tried painting over it, I discovered I had underestimated its depth. The crack showed through the paint. It was also much longer than I realized. It started at the middle of the ceiling and extended half-way across the room. When I scraped away the surrounding damage, an enormous “injury” was left behind.

The thought of fixing it was overwhelming to me.

For a moment I considered handing it over to someone else. I didn’t know if I was capable of doing the work. I wasn’t sure if I could stand on a ladder and repair the ceiling at the same time.

A part of me wanted to walk away from the job. A bigger part of me knew I needed to finish what I had started.

My brother-in-law, Chris, offered me guidance. He told me to how to fix the ceiling. He reminded me to take my time. “Be patient, it’s a process,” he said. I stood on a ladder and repaired the deep depression. I made sure the spackle adhered to the ceiling and waited for it to dry.

The next day I started painting the living room. It was ninety-eight degrees. The air was almost too heavy to breathe. There was no air conditioning in the house.

In the past, I would have stopped working the moment things began to feel uncomfortable. Now, making this change was the only thing that mattered. I had made a commitment. I was determined to get the job done.

Taking good care of myself was my first priority. I drank water when I was thirsty, rested when I felt tired and ate healthy meals. I kept a positive attitude. I listened to jazz and rolled paint on the walls to the rhythm of the music.

The heat wave lasted for two weeks. It ended the day I finished painting. As I cleaned up newspapers and pulled tape from the woodwork, I admired the space I had transformed. The room looked brighter and bigger than before. The repairs I had made were barely noticeable. The imperfections on the ceiling resembled faded scars.

Throughout the entire process, I had thought about my own transformation. I remembered the lessons I had learned. While I repaired cracks and holes, I reminded myself to be patient. As I climbed the ladder, I took one step at a time. In the heat, I stayed balanced. I took care of myself- spirit, body and mind.

I glanced at the dining room. It hadn’t been painted yet. There were cracks and holes in the walls. Paint had been peeling. I took a deep breath. I knew how to make the transformation happen- bit by bit, piece by piece, one small change at a time.