Sometimes, our small moments add up.
Sometimes, one pivotal moment awakens us to a divine presence, and we recognize that divinity at our very core.
This is the story of my awakening.
My husband is an atheist. His connection to the divine is through nature and animals, through the pull of compassion in his own soul. My mother was a committed Christian (the good kind—nonjudgmental, loving, and giving to her very core).
I’m eclectic in my spirituality. I can’t really name one single spiritual path I follow.
I love the sacred practices I’ve learned in India. I feel a deep connection to my Muslim friends who study Islam. I resonate deeply with the teachings of Nondual Tantric Shaivism. I’m a little “new agey” in my understanding of the otherworldly experiences I’ve had.
I believe I came out of the womb seeking God. I’ve always been called to understand the mystery. I’ve studied astrology, numerology, feng shui, Vedic and Tantric literature, and I’ve studied philosophy and psychology—all attempts to sort out my own connection to the divine.
There’s a great cosmic joke about God trying to decide where to hide from humans. After considering the highest mountain, the deepest ocean, the vast desert, God finally said, “I know, I’ll hide inside their hearts. They’ll never think to look for me there.”
There was a pivotal moment for me when I finally understood God’s humor.
I got a glimpse into the mystery, and in that instant, I recognized the truth in all that talk of unity. It was the moment in which I understood that we truly are all connected to one another and to the divine. I came to understand the importance of living in the present moment.
It is said that 3 a.m. is the hour in which the veil between the mundane and the sacred is the thinnest. On many early mornings, I was awakened at 3 a.m. to revelations that were significant and prophetic. I experienced monumental moments of recognition that I have no words to explain.
As it turns out, I did, indeed, find “God” in my own heart.
I’d like to share with you the ecstatic letter written through me, by me, by collective Spirit, reflecting my experience:
“Thick morning light. It’s not 3 a.m. anymore. Each moment is 3 a.m. You’re awake in every moment. You connect in every moment. Your frequent tears are the joy tears of pure connection. It is a good thing to note all those tiny moments.
The thrill of recognition is fleeting. It touches you again and again, deep in your center. Write it down. Hold it for your children. It will also excite you to read what you have written.
All the signs, all the metaphors, are a wonderful validation, a treatise. These are your fluid medals of honor, acknowledging all the ways you’ve opened your heart. Opening your mind is one thing. Opening the heart is greater. The open heart can spill its Light but, more importantly, it can receive.
Receive, receptive, reception. Why not create a grand reception with wine and song and accolades? Break out the red carpet and limousine.
This is what you’ve sought after your whole life.
It’s here now. Be here now. Feel here now. Touch here now. Take it all in right now in this moment. It’s Christ. It’s Siddhartha. It’s the goddess. It’s Allah. It’s you. It’s the earth. It’s the sea. It’s the sky. It’s black. It’s white. It’s the rainbow.
You can celebrate it. You can receive it. You can give it. You can eat it. You can brush it through your hair.
Ask for all the images you want. Ask for exciting, surprising, fun, awesome, joy-filled, unbelievable, huge, cosmological metaphors. Your mom can come. Uncle Elwyn can come. John Lennon. Gandhi. Dr. King. Who do you want? How about God? Call them all to you. You know how to do it.
“Breathe & Release.” That’s the little sign you made to give to your clients to remind them to breathe deeply and release their tension. We’re smiling now because you finally get it—we wrote that for you. Breathe and release. You thought it was about the body. Now you get it. It was about your Spirit all along.
Breathe to stay in the moment and release any resistance to your purely elegant connection to the divine.
“Hallelujah,” Cohen says, “I moved in you and the holy dove was moving too.” I get it. I get it. I get it. Bring me the doves! Hallelujah! I have no fear. In this moment I have it all. In this moment the holy doves, the holy angels, the holy moly, the holey underwear, the holy earth, they’re all the same. They’re each just one of the multicolored threads that stitch together this beautiful tapestry of Spirit. With a big capital “S.” My Spirit is soaring.
This is the splendor of my awakening.”