No need to run or rebel.
No need to look for home.
You are home.
Tears stream down my face as I commune with the Spirits at the Maitreya Loving Kindness Tour in Boulder. I had stumbled upon its announcement on Facebook, and given the major musing about my work, identity, and the stubborn muffin-top around my girth, I gladly attend it. Twice. First time I invited my beloved, who went with a shared curiosity. I was shocked to have very strong feelings in the presence of the masters. I held my tears among the quiet, shoeless crowd, and sniffled as we studied relics of the Buddha and lamas. I planned to return by myself to spend more time with the relics and their energy.
In ’05 I had dreamed that I was about ten, lost, but found my way to a large bronze Buddha. “I came home,” I said and cried. In the same dream a younger version of my parents, who held an infant, probably my brother, stood outside of a wooden fence and said go back to Buddha. The dream was so vivid that I sketched its images in a notebook.
At the Tour, I face the golden Buddha with a knowing. I’ve come home to an all encompassing, loving, nonphysical anytime. My family and I had moved across the globe to the U.S. when I was 13, leaving behind a benevolent aunt who says I grew up with her. She was my home. My own parents had all kinds of issues so home wasn’t quite that. As an adult, I fight for a peaceful home (an irony to fight for peace). At times I feel off-base as someone who is eternally transplanted from Asia, East Coast…possibly outside the Milky Way .
Back at the splendid event, I sit cross legged on a red cushion near a lama and a woman with kind eyes, each blessing visitors with a relic. I have a clear view of the Buddha in the cavernous hall. I shut my eyes, get grounded, invoke Reiki symbols, and clear my chakras. I ask how I can serve. Understanding begins to pour in my mind.
Keep doing what you are doing.
I have been doing confusion, despite having produced a manuscript to share my healing journey with others. My dismay sinks beneath me, gets composted.
Have faith while you seek.
Who is my target audience?
Those who want to heal themselves in order to heal the world.
No demographics but that’s workable. It’ll help how I communicate the vision.
And stop being a fly’s paper -whatever standard and contempt you are holding. Let it all go.
As an HSP, a neighbor’s high-whining leaf blower or loud planes carrying skydivers above my house set me off like an enraged hornet. Same goes for uncovering lies, injustice, and cruel acts toward living beings… I am a stickler for integrity.
The more negative vibes you put out, the more flies you get. Be glad about having hearing next time the noise outside starts.
Good point.
Accept your body. Live in it with joy.
Because of my sensitivity it is easier for me to connect to the wisdom beyond. For that I’ll cherish the good and bad that comes with having heightened sensors. I’ll be more mindful of what I eat and eat without regret. As I meditate I also ‘see’ a psychedelic circle that morphs from indigo to violet. It is beautiful. The indigo is of the Third Eye chakra, the intuition. I know I am with the Source.
I am told that everything will be okay and am shown my past lives, transgressions. I get that I was a nun long ago and left to explore facets of life. I had warred, maimed, dominated; like others I tried things and learned lessons. Now, I have returned.
You are forgiven.
The higher selves of everyone I know, guides, angels, the sun, moon, and stars are with me. I see my part in the intricate game of living. I weep in silence and hear sobs near me. A pepper-haired, petite man in a blue shirt kneeled in front of the maroon robed lama. The man convulses in grief as the monk places the relic on his head. The blessing becomes an exchange of compassion and angst. I hold space for the emotional release as I wipe my nose with a tissue. In a separate line, a limping elderly man with a cane holds a blonde girl’s hand. As they approach the woman holding a relic, the girl recoils. Seeing her grandpa getting blessed helps. I take a picture of her blessing.
I go back to meditation. When I open my eyes again, I see a young family kneeling by the lama, a baby in the mother’s arms. The lama blesses them all.
This is how the world is going to be okay. I am shown young people being open to and practice lovingkindness. I request assistance for our troubled Earth, its inhabitants, and those who are suffering.
Please let me do my work, thrive, take care of my family too, I ask. In my mind I’m shown large clumps of lilac wisteria showering over my house. Thank you, I reply.
Keep alleviating the suffering, the Spirits say.
I exhale. Of course.
It would be nice to stay all day. But an empty stomach and full bladder remind me I am still in the physical form. It has been two hours. I straighten my legs, collect my sandals, and walk out to the sun. There is more acceptance and less judgment in me, because I am home. I have hope about the world and my calling.
Have you ever had an experience like this, where the Spirits, a voice, a knowing lightens your heart and soul? Please share 
