Silent Voices of the Soul: The Backstory (part 9)

It was always calm and peaceful while my guides were channeling to me. Their words felt right to my heart. Their healing energies comforted my soul. The more I listened to them, the more I learned. And I was so grateful to be their student. I looked forward to learning my lessons. Then again, nothing physical was required of me when I sat in that chair; other than writing, I didn’t have to do anything.

All of that changed the moment I put my notebook away, however. It was one thing to learn about awareness through the act of channeling. It was something entirely different to see what Spirit’s words looked like in real life. And I didn’t even have to leave home before the lessons in my notebook transformed into multiple, tangible, physical realities.

Tests happened no matter where I was or what I was doing. And Spirit was creative; they assumed many different forms: a disquieting conversation, an unexpected letter in the mailbox, a flood in the basement… Looking back I realize that there weren’t any pop quizzes, although at the time it didn’t feel that way. It seemed as though unannounced tests were coming from every corner of the universe. But now I know that wasn’t the case. Spirit always let me know when a test was coming. There would be an announcement; the universe would always send me a sign or a symbol. An answer would find me so I would be equipped to answer the question.

When I was in a receptive state of mind, when my heart was open to knowing the truth, I recognized Spirit’s voice. But when I allowed anxiety, frustration or doubt to play tricks on me, it was a different story. I forgot that everything other than love was an illusion. I experienced a temporary identity crisis; I forgot that I wasn’t alone.

Every channeling session was an opportunity to expand my mind. Every physical test that found me, every challenge in disguise, was an opportunity for me to stretch my soul. And whether I passed the test or not, Spirit always sent love to me. My teachers always reminded me to love myself while I was learning.

Silent Voices of the Soul: The Backstory (part 8)

My answer was right in front of me; it had nothing to do with Thomas. But I wasn’t ready to see it , so I was unable to know the truth. It would take another two years before I was quiet enough to allow my answer to surface from my soul. Until then, I went in circles; I focused on the problem. And the more I focused on it, the worse it became.

Probably the most interesting aspect of this project was the way it unfolded. Spirit had a plan. But I was too close to the big picture to see it. I was concentrating on the details, listening, learning, writing and revising the things I had written. Did I mention how this book was produced? I did it the old fashioned way–journal style- with a legal pad in my lap and a pen in my hand. On average I went through twenty legal pads per chapter. I didn’t realize it until after the fact, but one day I remembered something. This was the studying method I had used in high school. I would write things over and over again in order to memorize them. Where did all of this writing happen? Every once in a while I had to deviate from my routine, but mostly I took dictation in the living room. Spirit spoke to me, while I sat in an old brown recliner that squeaked when I put the foot rest up.

When the spiritual information stopped coming, I knew the test wasn’t far away. Writing the lesson down was one thing. Applying it to my life was another. It looked easy on paper, but abstract metaphysical concepts weren’t always easy to recognize in the physical world.

Silent Voices of the Soul: The Backstory (part 7)

Another story stands out in my mind. It happened a long time ago, while I was working on the energy chapter. I was in the kitchen. My then two-year-old son, Thomas, was in the living room. He was watching TV, while I was making lunch for him. Somehow, when I wasn’t looking, he had managed to unlock the front door and run away. Fortunately, I heard the door close behind him. But by the time I had reached the end of the driveway, he had run to the corner.

It was a cold, rainy spring day. I was chasing my son barefoot because I didn’t have time to put my shoes on. Thomas was screaming. Neighbors were staring. And I was sure that the woman who I had seen talking on a cell phone, was now reporting me to the police. Somehow I caught up with Thomas and carried him home in the pouring rain. He was kicking and screaming the entire time.

When I reached our driveway, I remembered that I had an appointment. So I grabbed a pair of shoes and put Thomas, who was crying hysterically at this point, in his car seat. After I fastened his seat belt, I sat down in the front seat and closed my eyes to calm my nerves. Then I made myself breathe, and while I was breathing, I prayed for guidance and patience.

This kind of thing had happened before. In fact, it was happening every day. I was sleep deprived, depressed, stressed out and at my wit’s end. I didn’t have any coping skills left. I wasn’t handling this situation very well. I needed to figure out what to do.

As I was backing out of the driveway, I turned on the radio. I had tuned in to the perfect song at the perfect time. The music calmed me down. The words warmed my heart–”There will be an answer, let it be.”

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Silent Voices of the Soul: The Backstory (part 6)

There were nine lessons to learn in the name of truth, and I learned them one by one, a little at a time. Spirit found a way to teach me whatever I needed to know, no matter where I was or what I was doing. I learned about intuition while I was baking my first lemon meringue pie. I learned about signs and symbols, while I was repairing a twenty-year-old sweater. I learned about spiritual transformation while I was painting my living room. And I really did have revelations while I was cleaning out the refrigerator.

The spiritual messages I received were profound. What amazed me was how clear they were–how whatever was happening around me was directly related to whatever was happening within my soul. I came to realize that everything in my life held meaning. I learned that there are no random events, that everything happens at a specific time for a particular reason. This is one of the most important things I have ever learned; it led me to my life’s work.

The chapters wrote themselves. Definitions of spiritual concepts came first and, for the most part, fast. Sometimes they were channeled in rhyme. Sometimes they assumed the form of a passage from a text book. But they always flowed, and as they flowed I felt the energy they held. My soul felt the vibrations behind the letters and words, sentences and paragraphs. Even if they didn’t make sense to my mind at first, they made sense to my heart. Something inside me knew that what I was writing was the truth.

Spirit had a plan, although I was oblivious to the details. There was no outline to this book, nothing tangible to guide me. I worked on one chapter at a time, without knowing what the next chapter would be. Each chapter was like a mini-guidebook; it had its own production timetable. The time it took to write it was directly dependent upon how long it took for me to learn whatever spiritual principle Spirit was teaching me. Some chapters were written in a very short time and needed very little revising. Others took years to write; I had to learn the same lesson repeatedly, in every area of my life, until I was able to put it into words. Regardless of how long it took to write each piece, I always knew it when was time to start a new chapter. A test would always come and if I passed it, I knew I could move on to the next subject. Then Spirit would find a clever way to make that subject known.

What lessons did I learn exactly? There were so many, too many to name. I can give you the short list, though. I learned every lesson I wrote about: intuition, the components of spiritual awareness, how to interpret signs and symbols and dreams, how to transform energy, spiritual transformation, transition… There was never a dull moment while I was learning about spiritual awareness. I can honestly say that during the twelve years I was working on this project, I don’t ever remember being bored.

There were times when I wasn’t able to write about the things I was learning. I was so physically engaged in the lesson, that I wasn’t able to see it from a higher perspective at first. More than once I asked Spirit to help me see things more clearly. I remember one time in particular when I asked Spirit to show me the truth. While I was driving, I was unable to see the road signs that were in ahead of me. Everything was a blur; I wanted to know why. The next day a lens fell out of my glasses. I couldn’t wear them; I had to navigate without them. For an entire day, I could only see things that were directly in front of me. Everything else was out of focus.

Silent Voices of the Soul: The Backstory (part 5)

Trust was something I needed to learn. It didn’t come easily; there was always a process involved. But, this was an “either/or” situation. Either I trusted the truths Spirit was whispering to me, or I didn’t. Either I was channeling, or I wasn’t. There was no meeting Spirit half-way as far as this project was concerned. It was a partnership, and in order to partner with my highest self, I needed to completely trust the process.

As long as I let Spirit speak, the words flowed. Pages and pages of spiritual insights were given to me. But there were also times when channeling couldn’t happen, times when I was standing in Spirit’s way. Those were the moments when doubt, frustration, impatience…got the best of me, and if you were to look at my first journal you would be able to identify them. You would see where I had crossed out words or put question marks next to phrases that didn’t make sense at the time. You would see where the session ended, that Spirit had no choice but to stop speaking because I had stopped listening.

In those days there were more moments of doubt than there were moments of trust. My notebook was a reflection of my life.

Every channeling session was a unique experience. Spirit had a specific plan every day–a lesson that would not only show up in a notebook, but in my life as well. I would write and then Spirit would put a metaphysical spin on the words. I would say things like. “I can’t believe every store in the universe has run out of black hair color; and Spirit would say, “Maybe you need to lighten up.” I would say, I don’t understand why my client is so afraid to move forward; and Spirit would say, “Yes, you do.” “What is your biggest fear?”

It never failed; the answer was always in my question. All I needed to do was look at it from a higher place, through Spirit’s eyes. All I needed to do was be the student–ready, willing and open to learning the truth.

While I was learning how to channel, I was also learning how to go with the flow in my life. This was something I had not yet mastered, something I wanted to learn. I never thought of myself as a controlling person; I never tried to control people. But I did unknowingly control my own life. I held myself back from opportunities. I stood in my own way. I carried my childhood with me wherever I went without realizing it–years and years and years of abuse. You wouldn’t think that something that happened so long ago could still affect you. But it did. It affected me. It affected everything.

Channeling was not something I could control; it was something that just happened. And when I had become comfortable with my daily writing exercise, Spirit was finding me everywhere– even when I wasn’t holding a pen in my hand. It would happen while I was walking. It would happen while I was folding laundry. It would happen while I was making chocolate chip cookies. Spirit found me whenever I was quiet.

Some of my most profound revelations have occurred while I was doing the most ordinary, mindless things–amazing, life-changing, soul-stretching epiphanies.

I’m not exactly sure when the book started to write itself. But I know it was an extension of my journal-writing. My first notebook was filled with bits and pieces of spiritual information: definitions of spiritual concepts, eleven laws of energy (a.k.a. “The Law of Attraction”)…outlines of things that would be fleshed out over time. At one point my guides gave me an interesting collection of words and told me I would be writing a book around them. They found me in the most ordinary way; at the time I had no idea what they meant. The words? “When the Spirit Speaks”: “Silent Voices of the Soul.”

Silent Voices of the Soul: The Backstory (part 4)

Trust was something I needed to learn. It didn’t come easily; there was always a process involved. But, this was an “either/or” situation. Either I trusted the truths Spirit was whispering to me, or I didn’t. Either I was channeling, or I wasn’t. There was no meeting Spirit half-way as far as this project was concerned. It was a partnership, and in order to partner with my highest self, I needed to completely trust the process.

As long as I let Spirit speak, the words flowed. Pages and pages of spiritual insights were given to me. But there were also times when channeling couldn’t happen, times when I was standing in Spirit’s way. Those were the moments when doubt, frustration, impatience…got the best of me, and if you were to look at my first journal you would be able to identify them. You would see where I had crossed out words or put question marks next to phrases that didn’t make sense at the time. You would see where the session ended, that Spirit had no choice but to stop speaking because I had stopped listening.

In those days there were more moments of doubt than there were moments of trust. My notebook was a reflection of my life.

Every channeling session was a unique experience. Spirit had a specific plan every day–a lesson that would not only show up in a notebook, but in my life as well. I would write and then Spirit would put a metaphysical spin on the words. I would say things like. “I can’t believe every store in the universe has run out of black hair color; and Spirit would say, “Maybe you need to lighten up.” I would say, I don’t understand why my client is so afraid to move forward; and Spirit would say, “Yes, you do.” “What is your biggest fear?”

It never failed; the answer was always in my question. All I needed to do was look at it from a higher place, through Spirit’s eyes. All I needed to do was be the student–ready, willing and open to learning the truth.

While I was learning how to channel, I was also learning how to go with the flow in my life. This was something I had not yet mastered, something I wanted to learn. I never thought of myself as a controlling person; I never tried to control people. But I did unknowingly control my own life. I held myself back from opportunities. I stood in my own way. I carried my childhood with me wherever I went without realizing it–years and years and years of abuse. You wouldn’t think that something that happened so long ago could still affect you. But it did. It affected me. It affected everything.

Channeling was not something I could control; it was something that just happened. And when I had become comfortable with my daily writing exercise, Spirit started to speak to me when I wasn’t holding a pen in my hand. It would happen while I was walking. It would happen while I was folding laundry. It would happen while I was making chocolate chip cookies. Spirit found me whenever I was quiet.

Some of my most profound revelations have occurred while I was doing the most ordinary, mindless things–amazing, life-changing, soul-stretching epiphanies.

I’m not exactly sure when the book started to write itself. But I know it was an extension of my journal-writing. My first notebook was filled with bits and pieces of spiritual information: definitions of spiritual concepts, eleven laws of energy (a.k.a. “The Law of Attraction”)…outlines of things that would be fleshed out over time. At one point my guides gave me an interesting collection of words and told me I would be writing a book around them. They found me in the most ordinary way; at the time I had no idea what they meant. The words? “When the Spirit Speaks”: “Silent Voices of the Soul.”

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Silent Voices of the Soul: The Backstory (part 3)

My morning routine was something I looked forward to as much as having my first cup of coffee. I always wondered what I’d be writing about. Sometimes it seemed like there would be nothing to say about my life. But I wrote anyway. Many times I wrote about how grateful I was to be having a cup of coffee in silence, to be enjoying a quiet moment alone while everyone else in the house slept. Then ideas suddenly came into my head. I looked out the window and watched the sky gradually lighten from black to gray to blue. I listened to the birds singing in the trees and watched the squirrels climb up the dogwood tree as if they were playing some kind of game. Poetry took shape in my mind as I looked out the window. Words came. I wrote them down. Then Spirit took my hand and gave me a glimpse of what I was seeing from a Higher Perspective, from a metaphorical point of view.

As a poet, I have always seen life as a metaphor. That’s just the way my mind has always worked. I have always seen things from the perspective of an objective observer, someone who is standing across the room, viewing things from a distance. At the same time, I have always felt life very deeply. I have always been deeply sensitive to the people and things around me. You name it and I can feel it; my greatest strength is my biggest weakness.

Writing put me in a meditative state of mind. It quieted the noise and allowed me to connect with the highest part of me. The more I wrote, I quieter my mind became. The quieter I made my mind, the easier it was to hear the silent voices speak.

At first I thought there was just one voice, but soon other personalities made themselves known to me–every energy had a different way of expressing itself. They had things to say. They needed someone to write them down. I was listening, and I was holding a pen in my hand. It was the perfect arrangement. They were my teachers. I was the student.

As silent as these voices were, I was able to “hear” them. They spoke from the center of my soul. They whispered amazing things to me, things I had never thought about, things that had never ever entered my mind. They told me to pay close attention to the world around me, that is was a reflection of the world within me.

I have always believed that these beings were once writers–people who had written books but were never able to bring them to the world. Maybe their lives were cut short. Maybe they never finished what they had started. Maybe they knew me at another time in a different place, and we had agreed to meet up in this lifetime to collaborate on a spiritual project. As I am writing, chills are traveling across my shoulders and up my arms; Spirit is saying that what I am telling you is true. That’s our signal.

Regardless of whatever pact we had made in a past life, I knew I needed to listen to my teachers and write down the lessons. I knew I needed to record everything that was coming into my head–every insight that was finding me. I wrote things down exactly as they were given to me. And if I tried to make a correction, if I tried to edit their words, if I questioned anything they said, the lesson abruptly came to an end. Eventually I understood that this relationship was based on trust.They trusted me to write down their messages. I needed to trust that what they were telling me was the truth.