So Fran’s workshop was a complete success. Hooray.
But I knew damn well that when I told her: ‘You need to be authentic and tell these people who you really are and what you really do,’ I was actually talking to myself.
I know I’m incredibly fortunate to have the advantage of direct communication with Spirit; I’ve been told many times in no uncertain terms (both by Spirit and by Fran) exactly what my Earthly role and purpose are supposed to be.
I just didn’t want to do any of it. At least not yet. Maybe later – you know, after I’m more enlightened or something.
But on my last night in Philadelphia (aided strongly by Fran’s ‘spiritual conduit’ effect on me whenever she’s nearby) I knew it was time to finally accept that Earthly role and purpose, and just get on with it already. Time to make the quantum leap from terrified shadow-dweller to center-stage truth teller.
All it would take, really, was a shift in intention.
Maybe that, and a complete personality transplant.
But I decided to make that seemingly impossible leap of faith right then. No matter what it took. And no matter what kind of spiritual work I’d have to do to accomplish it. Sad. Happy. Painful. Scary. It really didn’t matter. (Usually I prefer my spiritual work to be of the gentle-joyous variety. To ask for lessons in whatever form necessary was a first.)
All this prayer and intention-shifting was taking place late at night in my darkened bedroom at Fran’s house. The moment I put that rock-solid intention out into the universe, I watched as a supernatural apparition started to form itself in the dark and move toward me.
Ooh. Scary.
In the past, that’s all it would’ve taken to make me back down and go diving beneath the magic covers for protection instead, my big brave vow forgotten. Because even though I was no longer terrified of the supernatural as I used to be, I didn’t exactly want it crawling into bed with me, either.
But this time, I just calmly watched as it approached, and then said: Bring it. Whatever it takes, I’m ready.
And the entity, whatever it was, hesitated for a moment and then vanished.
…You know, either I’ve gotten incredibly wordy all of a sudden, or there’s much more to this story than I thought. Maybe both. Anyway, there’s no way I can tell all of it here.
Stay tuned next time for part 3, I guess.