I remember the phase in my life when I first went through my initial “awakening.” I had decided to leave behind my old life in the realm of academia as a budding classical musician, and entered the world of the mystic, attempting to completely whitewash my old identity. I traded in the stiff and stuffy classrooms and recital halls for lush forests, blossoming gardens, and for the wild and mysterious expressions of the Earth. I moved from the town where I went to high school and college (Myrtle Beach, South Carolina) and moved onto an artsy hippy farm in the cascading Appalachian mountains of North Carolina, just outside of Asheville.
On this farm, there was a community of young artists and travelers that was always in flux. There was one young man who had inherited the property from his family, and he opened up the land to traveling artists, musicians, and mystics – to those in the phase of the wanderer. The farm was a nexus point for old souls, and for those living on the fringe of our society. Many of them where folky, funky, and mystical and just plane far out. Some of them dressed as if they had just time traveled here from the Biblical era, dawned in loose flowy attire with white, brown and maroon Earth tones, while others dressed themselves in bright flamboyant colors, like pop stars from 70’s, and others would wear overalls and plaid shirts like your stereotypical farmer. There was a whole congregant of characters that seemed to be from different dimensions and timelines, all gathered here searching, seeking for something.
The land was lush and alive. There were rolling hills with gardens that where bursting with life surrounded by moist deciduous forest. The soil was teeming with vitality and the minerals gave it a gold tint that made it sparkle in the sun. In the Spring, everything exploded with greenery and the womb of the Earth gave birth and overflowed. Summer was hot and vibrant, and the land seemed to buzz and hum as insects and birds fluttered around, sustaining the rhythms of nature. In Autumn, the forests became painted with reds, golds, oranges, yellows, and greens, and as these erupting colors would kiss the open sky, the breeze would carry the coolness of transition. And the winters were stark, brutal, cold, snowy and isolated. Warmth was a commodity that wasn’t always easy to come by.
And here I was, in the midst of this place. Searching for myself, looking for an alternative to the plastic suburban sitcom life that I had grown up in. I deeply began to question who I was, what I was doing with my life. Little did I know that this was just the beginning. I was at the infantile stage of birthing a completely new self. This was the begining, as well as the end of me. I was starting to undo my conditioning, and I was holding space for something new to reveal itself. I was in a place of deep discovery. I still clung to aspects of my old identity out of familiarity and safety, while at the same time, this new essence was emerging. It didn’t know what it was. I didn’t know if I could trust it. I was getting glimpses of a future me, of a future earth, yet it was still such uncharted territory. And there was still several layers of doubt, hesitation, guilt, and pain for me to move through, so I took it day by day. Listening, examining, exploring, and being. Patience began to be integrated as a virtue.
It was here that I began to actually observe myself. As I observed myself, I noticed an overwhelming amount of guilt that I had, for simply existing. I was uncovering this deep part of myself that felt flawed on a core level. I began to become very aware of how much I had rejected myself over the course of my life, and I began to have these vague, yet direct realizations that a huge part of my journey would be revolved around healing this core guilt. This inner agitation was calling me to adapt and to grow in a particular direction, one that was pulling me to understand the nature of emotions while learning how to resolve this core guilt and shame.
Thus a message had bubbled up deep from within the recesses of my soul, relaying the primary intention of what I came here to learn:
How to accept myself.
How to accept myself, that I may full heartedly accept others.
This propelled me onto the path of uncovering my innate gifts, to see what treasures where teeming within my own watery oceanic depths. It also lead me onto a path of apprenticeship, where I began to study and observe that which caused me to suffer, that I may learn what it has to teach me, and what its function is in my life.
Several years have passed since my second birth in the Appalachian Mountains, and this soul continues to blossom and expand. The premise of my life was given to me in those mountains. My mission, you could say. Like a commandment from God, revealing itself through the sloppily scribbled and crinkled pages of my first journal, I was told what to do with my life:
Accept myself, and heal the guilt that has binded me to an illusion of who I thought I was.
And thus, the journey
continues…