Universal Nudge: My Two Decade Journey of Finding Myself

At times the details seem like a blur. At times they seem like they’re indefinitely written on my psyche and will be there for the rest of my days.

How do you go from living your life as one person to becoming someone completely different?

A Universal Nudge. And my nudge was more like a kick.

My story begins in my early 20’s. I’d entered college with the dream of doing some sort of grass roots work…feeding the hungry, helping adults with reading skills, marching for women’s rights. Somewhere I could get my hands dirty helping the beautiful, oppressed, forgotten people in the world. I had wanted to use my skills and talents for the betterment of others, but I graduated in the midst of a war, a recession, and the Republican party was taking a hatchet to all funding for programs that helped others. Seemed sick to me. At a time when people needed the most help they were cutting funds to organizations that would help them. I won’t make a political statement here but what it meant for me is that no one was hiring boots on the ground so I couldn’t find a job doing work I loved.

But I was in luck, I guess. At the same time, we were witnessing the rise of the corporation and previously closed doors were opening for women and minorities. I was both. They welcomed me with open arms and I was able to get a home, a car. Life wasn’t too bad.

At first.

I got married and as my husband’s career was taking off, I found myself somewhat stagnated. I began to hate the work and found myself taking jobs just for the money. The entire ordeal seemed like a struggle. After a while the material things I bought no longer offset the misery I was experiencing on a daily basis. Being a sometimes “corporate cut throat” was antithetical to who I really was. One time my husband witnessed me cry because I had a conversation with a man who had the most severe case of stuttering I’d ever seen. I struggled to hide my emotion as I strained to figure out what he was saying. And while he seemed okay watching the tear trickle down my cheek, my husband told me I probably made him feel even worse.

I probably did.

And then there was the time my husband was in the store shopping for food. I told him I’d wait in the car. When he came out of the store the back seat of our car was full of groceries…and a blind man…with a cane. It was after I picked up a schizophrenic because it was raining and she was carrying bags he made me promise to stop. He was becoming concerned about my safety.

I was living a double life in a sense. I masqueraded as a corporate climber but on the inside I was a lover, a giver, a helper. My corporate job didn’t allow for any of the traits that were natural to me. It required a level of “bitch” I wasn’t comfortable with, but my direct deposit said so what.

The famed author Anais Nin eerily stated that When One is Pretending, the Entire Body Revolts. And that’s what happened to me. My Universal nudge was that I got sick. Really sick…with what I call everything and nothing at all. I had so many symptoms, too many to name really. At the beginning my husband had to come home on his lunch hour and watch me eat to make sure I wouldn’t choke because I had severe throat spasms. It seems like something out of a comedy sketch now. As sick as I was, every visit to the doctor turned up absolutely nothing. After a while I gave up on traditional medicine and was able to find a maintenance strategy that let me resume some sort of quality of life.

But I wasn’t the same. I survived on a rigorous schedule of supplements and food prep. Missing a dose of a supplement or taking it at the wrong time would wreak havoc on my progress. Even drinking certain brands of bottled water in a weak moment at a movie would throw me off kilter for a few days. It was a nightmare. The worst of it being the vomiting. Without warning I would just projectile vomit. I can remember being sick as a dog and having to clean up my own puke. We finally got smart and stashed pans in different areas of the house in case I was too far from the bathroom. It was one of the lowest points of my life.

My husband was a trooper. He had developed God-like patience. He’d learned to close the door to whatever room I was in before he vacuumed, because the dust would trigger me. We could only go to certain restaurants because I could only eat certain things. We adapted. And I kept searching for a cause and remedy for what was happening to me.

A traditional job was laughable in that condition so I had a lot more time on my hands. Could you imagine sitting in a meeting at a conference table and vomiting everywhere or sending co-workers into a panic because you’re in the breakroom choking on lunch? So I started writing. I authored three books and a short story and I started blogging.

And something else started happening. In the slower pace of life I could hear my own voice speaking to me. It was calling me back to myself.

But what was that? In the beginning I didn’t know. Well, I knew but I was too afraid to admit it. I had gotten certified as a Career Coach and later a Life Coach and had even done some coaching, so I had begun acknowledging my true self but I still wasn’t ready to go full bore into my identity as a Mystic. I wasn’t ready to be that girl. The one everyone pointed at. Even whispered about, so, casually and secretly I began my foray into the Fringe. I started reading about NDE’s, Mind, Spirituality, Quantum Physics. Overtime, my casual foray became intentional learning and study. I started grasping concepts with ease. Daily, I began to feel more like myself. My energy shifted, my worldview shifted. It felt like I had been welcomed home.

But my journey was far from over. I still hadn’t actually ‘come out’ of the Mysticism closet yet. So I was still suppressing certain aspects of myself. Because of that I wasn’t fully healing. I was getting better, but still not good. I’m surrounded by Evangelicals. The ones that if you say strawberry they say, “Jesus made it.” Or if you say mountain they say, “Everyone’s going to burn in the pit below it.” Everyone I knew was traditionally Christian. How would they react?

I can recall standing in the kitchen feeling the heaviness of my double life. My husband was at the refrigerator pouring himself a glass of orange juice. He closed the door to the refrigerator. “Why don’t you just tell them,” he asked? He took a sip of his juice and walked out, leaving me to ponder the question. Seemed like such a simple thing.

But for me it wasn’t. Even he was a traditional Christian! Never curses. Reads his bible every morning before he goes to work. He understands my world is filled with chakras, auras and energy fields. It’s a language he doesn’t fully understand but he gives me the freedom to be me, even encourages me to do it. I think he was placed in my life for this time. I couldn’t imagine being married to someone that, after finding the courage to live as my authentic self, I had to fight them to do it. Many people have that battle and my heart goes out to them. I cannot express the value of a good partner in life. He’s made this entire process easier.

So tell them I did. I began revealing more of myself to the world. To the people closest to me. I began to express it in more of my writing and I even started a podcast that speaks about mastering spiritual principles to create a life you love. And I found happiness. For the first time in my life I’m happy. I have experienced what the bible means when it references unspeakable joy.

Some people embraced my transformation. Some didn’t. I’ve learned to not place square pegs in round holes. What I search for in my relationships are points of resonance. If we both believe in Christ do our views have to be exactly the same? So, if you say Jesus, I smile and nod. I love him too. If you say born again, I think of reincarnation but if I know you don’t, I respect that. My life is starting to become this beautiful dance of allowing. I allow us to still be friends in spite of our differences. I allow you to be angry. I allow you to not understand. I accept each person’s journey as their own. As arduous as mine has been I have a lot of respect for someone else’s.

For the most part all my other symptoms left but they’ve been replaced by a new one: migraines. I can’t say whether this is still the Universe nudging me to embrace another aspect of myself or if it’s just plain old menopause and hormone fluctuations but I can say this:

I feel better than I ever have about my life. I’m finally comfortable in my own skin. Comfortable coaching my clients on the spiritual aspect of life. I’m back where I started. With the desire to use my gifts and talents to help someone’s life get better. And, who knows? Just maybe…if there’s a knife wielding, homeless man on the porch, to my husband’s disappointment I just might let him in and ask him if he’s aware of the nine levels of consciousness and if he’s ever considered meditation as a tool to transform his life. I’d feed him and place a meditation mat on the floor before him and teach him how to sit in the lotus position and place his hands in the proper mudras. I’d turn on my Tibetan singing bowls and guide him gently into a mantra for peace and prosperity.

Maybe the migraines are the Universe nudging me to go back and reclaim this aspect of myself. Maybe that’s the final piece of my journey. To return to helping the downtrodden and forgotten. Makes me smile on the inside. Pray for my husband ya’ll.

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