Silent Voices of the Soul: The Backstory (part 2)

Time was the operative word here. I wasn’t confident at first. I didn’t trust the messages that were somehow appearing in the notebook I was holding in my lap. My pen was moving across the paper so fast that I could barely read the writing. Words were magically appearing in front of me. Deeply meaningful phrases and sentences and paragraphs were being written, but it didn’t feel like I was writing them.

Over the years I had written poetry and a few short stories. But this wasn’t that kind of writing. I have a certain style; clearly, this one wasn’t mine.The notebook I was holding held definitions of things I had never heard of before: energy and intention, transition, transformation and truth…. It was as if I had hired a private tutor to teach me spiritual awareness.

There were some unspoken rules; I learned how to channel the hard way. I wasn’t allowed to think. I wasn’t allowed to analyze. I wasn’t allowed to ask any questions– to try to figure anything out while the channeling session was in progress. If I did, there were immediate repercussions. The information stopped flowing. The silent voice stopped speaking. And then I would have to wait until my mind was quiet enough to resume the silent conversation Spirit had started. My mind was anything but quiet then. Sometimes it took days before I was receptive again.

Channeling gradually became a part of my morning routine. I poured myself some coffee, propped a notebook in my lap, grabbed something to write with and waited for Spirit to find me. There was a warming up exercise to get me in the mood. I wrote in my journal. I wrote about my life in my own voice–whatever was happening at the time. I wrote about my hopes and fears, my desires and dreams. I wrote about getting my driver’s license at age 35 and having my second child when I was 40. I wrote about all the old friends that were leaving my life and the new ones that had taken their place. I wrote and wrote and wrote…and then Spirit wrote back to me.

I had no idea that I was writing the book Spirit had spoken of. But I was grateful to be writing again, and more than grateful to write down every word that was being whispered to me. I knew something significant was taking place, that my guides were guiding my hand and that the information I was receiving was important. As chills traveled through my body, I knew I was learning about truth…to be continued.