I believe in signs. Often I find the universe will send me messages, one at a time, until I realize, ‘Hey, this topic has come up a lot lately.’
That is what happened this spring. It was February or March when I listened to a CD at the back of a book I bought at the library for 25 cents. The book, ” ” by Ester Hicks. I listened to the CD first. It was after listening to Esther/Abraham tell a story of driving to Boca and something went haywire with the GPS. Once her and her husband got back on the right path she was curious to know what went wrong. She wanted to go back and do it all over again.
Her husband replied, “Or we could just keep going right.”
Abraham goes on to share how we can, and should, start where ever we are in our journey to becoming more of ourselves. We do not need to go back and figure out where things went wrong so we can heal and move forward.
You don’t even have to find the cause. You don’t even have to find the thought that is causing the resistance. You just have to find a thought that isn’t causing resistance. You just need to reach for a thought of relief. You don’t have to sort it all out. You don’t have to go back and retrace your steps through it and figure out which way you went wrong.
I sat for days thinking about this. The concept froze me. Why did I have such a desire for people to know their story and here is someone I admire say that it isn’t important. Did I misunderstand? Am I taking their words out of context? Have I misread my desire? Am I on the wrong path? There are so many people out there writing memoirs, recording their stories. Are we all going about this the wrong way? Frozen. Doubt is a horrible enemy.
This segment of the audio CD caught me hard because I had heard two other bits from the universe saying the same things. I had ignored them but could not ignore this one. It was crystal clear in my earphones. All other sounds non-existant.
Story writing feels as if it is part of my core. I began a large search on why I memoir write. Why do I want to write life stories so badly and why do I think others should know their story.
I found some great quotes on the internet such as this one:
My story is important not because it is mine … but because if I tell it anything like right, the chances are you will recognize that in many ways it is yours. Maybe nothing is more important than that we keep track … of these stories of who we are and where we have come from and the people we have met along the way because it is precisely through these stories in all their particularity … that God makes himself known to each of us most powerfully and personally …to lose track of our stories is to be profoundly impoverished not only humanly but spiritually.
I not only have my secrets, I am my secrets. And you are yours. Our secrets are human secrets, and our trusting each other enough to share them with each other has much to do with the secret of what it means to be human.
Frederick Buechner in “Writing as a Road to Self-Discovery” by Barry Lane
But it wasn’t enough for me although internally I had a strong feeling-connection to it. This represents more of what I have been feeling up to this point. Now this was being challenged as not being enough. Why do I want to write? All my life I have felt a desire to write life stories – particularily to hear stories of women, yet now the universe was was saying to leave the past alone? What is wrong with my desire?
I do not recall how it happened but I read something of Rudolf Steiner‘s. He is the founder of Waldorf Education, something else I am passionate about. He says in his book “Education of the Child” that we are a make up of an inner being, a divine being, or a soul. This soul melds together with inherited traits of our ancestors to create a unique individual. He compares it to mixing blue and yellow to make green (some version of the primary colours. Don’t hold me to this example). Only in reality there are so many different shades of people.
After I read this I felt, it was not simply some intellectual understanding, I felt my passion for life story writing. I felt my passion for one to explore their life stories. It is to know their inner being. It is to know themselves in such a deeper and divine way than I had ever imagined.
I do believe there is more to us than simply our physical lives. There is a greater mystery. It is now my belief that the universe sent me this message from Ester Hicks/Abraham to inspire me, to give my passion focus.
Since reading Steiner’s words I have been on a bit of a journey. I realized I wanted to connect with other moms who shared the same interest in Waldorf Education as I do. I put an ad up on kijiji to find some moms to hang out with, make crafts and learn more about the philosophy of Anthroposophy more directly. Instead of finding a few moms I know have a Facebook page with 78 families and am working at building a Waldorf school here in Saskatoon. It is very exciting.
Yet, while I plug away at this new school I have made notes in my journal of things I wish to blog about. As I read Steiner’s phiiosphies I am left wondering and reflecting. Blogging helps me explore my growth more thoroughly. There is something about choosing the right words that help me to really define how I am feeling and what I am thinking. Writing is my core. Only now I have a clearer picture. I want to break apart all our colours to see our colour code. My intention is for us to know who we are (what are our special talents) and what are we to do in this life.