A Patient Path

Submitted by Luminakisharblaze, August 2010

About forty one years ago, I started walking this path. I came into this world with a horrible scream because I knew the path that lay before me was going to be difficult at best. During the first few years, it wasn’t too bad. I learned the basics early because I knew I needed the time for other things. I looked up at the towering adults and wondered why they treated me so small and insignificant. I knew I was meant for more than they gave me credit. I had already been shown.

Things were fine until about three years into this path. That’s when I found out what horrible things these big people could do. A random babysitter with a twisted mind threw me off of the original path and onto some hideous nightmare from which I couldn’t escape. From there the trail twisted and turned through torment, abuse and the worst kind of neglect. Somehow I was made invisible to the ones who called themselves ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’. (They weren’t my real parents; they only bought me at half price.)

I would find myself isolated from the people on this mortal plane and would constantly ask the Divine Collective, “What happened? This isn’t the path I am supposed to be on, is it?” They would answer with love, “Patience child, this is necessary.”

About 5 years went by and it happened again. This time it was a cousin twice my age. I never cried. I simply asked again, “This isn’t right. Is THIS the path I am supposed to be on?” Again they would answer, “Patience child, this is necessary.”

Two years later (when I was 10) my brother, whose own views had become twisted, made good use of the time we were left alone. This lasted 4 years. I spent most of it crying alone where no one could see me. As often as I could, I would go up to the caves on Green Mountain. Making absolutely sure no one was around, I would whisper down deep into the Earth, “What happened here, this is SURELY not the path I am meant to walk is it?” The Collective would whisper a ghostly howl up through the echoes of the caves deep caverns and say, “Patience child, this is necessary.”

At age 13, I found myself lost, confused and in a perpetual state of heartbreak. I didn’t want to die, but I wanted to talk to them in person because I didn’t understand. As twisted luck would have it, my friend went insane. (Bad juju from raising a piece of a living person’s soul. It was something I warned her about, but no one ever listened to me.) She just decided to strangle me one day, and since I was desperate for an ‘in person’ conversation with the Collective, I let her. (What’s really scary is that I found out if you let someone strangle you, it doesn’t hurt.) I vaguely remember hitting the floor with a dull thud.

The next thing I knew I was traveling through a tunnel of green flowerless vines and the most beautiful light was pouring through them. I got to the end, and there they were, waiting for me. My eyes filled up with tears, and for the first time in my life, I cried genuine tears. Through the torrential downpour of saline tainted water, I asked, “Why? I don’t understand. Why all this pain? I am so alone and I hurt so badly and you never answer me. Why?”

With the most abundant, all-encompassing love, they answered me, “You will understand in time. For now just remember: Patience child. It is necessary.”

I slowly regained consciousness and realized that no one even noticed my brief absence. I thought about how I would not have even been missed until someone noticed the smell and I got angry. Not at the Collective, at mankind. How could they just cast me aside in solitude? My thirteen year old brain began calculating the apathy, and when I came up with the product of this calculation, the measure was so much that I decided it might be best to just lock myself in outcast jail for a while. And so I sat there contemplating the message I had been given. Patience indeed. How could any of this be necessary?

Another year passed and at fourteen, I decided enough was enough. I began sneaking out of my house any time I was left alone with my brother. Then one day it finally stopped. I guess he found himself a girlfriend. For a few moments I was at peace. It was during these few moments that I made some startling realizations about myself. I had already channeled someone (John Lennon of all people, just after he died, though I had no idea what it was until much later in life.), I lost all my friends in Junior High because I kept telling people things that I thought were public knowledge (I didn’t know I was the only one who knew them.), and I had an unexplainable understanding of the natural world. (I could hear the trees and grass and rocks speak to me, and I understood the language of the animals.) It was at this same time that I accidentally levitated. It seemed like the more time I spent with me, the scarier I was to myself.

We moved to Plano, Texas when I was 15. It was the suicide capitol of the world at the time. I spent 9 months channeling suicides. At the time, I still didn’t know what channeling was, so from my point of view, I was simply losing two to ten hours at a time and regaining consciousness in different places than I had started out. My point of view was a horrible black void with this awful sound, like the hot breath of some dark shadow beast that haunted my ears and tore at my soul with its claws of apathy. Needless to say, I ended up checking into a mental hospital. (Though mostly to get away from everyone so I could think.)

As soon as I turned age 18, I left home. I ran to Junkieland for a few years. I figured if I got fried, I would have an excuse for the craziness. It didn’t really work though. No matter where I tried to run to, my path remained the same and the Collective was always there to remind me. They would still whisper in my ear, “Patience child. It is necessary.”

I did meet someone in Junkieland. The first time I saw him, I heard beautiful music playing. That is, until some girl sat down next to him and handed him his drink. Then the music dove out of existence much in the same way you would expect if the conductor of the symphony just walked off the stage. That’s ok though, we became friends. It was not him I was supposed to be with, not yet anyway. I had to endure five years with a man whose idea of romance was a public execution. And still, the Collective constantly reminded me, “Patience child. It is necessary.”

I conceived my first child at age 20, though hardly in the best of circumstances. Within two months, I was kicked out of my boyfriend’s house so he could try and get with some ranch hand, had an unusually short menstrual cycle, got raped and ended up getting together with my best friend. Then I found out I was pregnant. My parents kicked me out, and at the time my best friend was trying to straighten out things with his mother and I could not bear to lay this kind of a burden on him. Out of love for him, knowing this was his only chance with his mother, I went back to my abusive boyfriend. I was 1000 miles away from anyone I knew and pregnant and alone. Well, sort of. Every time I found myself in doubt, they would tell me again, “Patience child. It is necessary.”

I had one son, married and divorced my boyfriend, then had a second son with my best friend. Somewhere along the way we discovered we had the same path. Then the Collective spoke Divine words. These were very different from what I was use to hearing. They said, “You two will join in marriage on Lammas. For death shall never part you, for in the fullness of time you shall meet and remember and love again.” Our union created a hailstorm the likes of which Dallas, Texas had not seen in an age. Finally I was on this path with company.

The insanity escalated, for now there were two to walk this strange trail. Every so often we would hear them remind us. “Patience children. It is necessary.” So hand in hand we continued on together, raising our children and trusting in the Collective’s Divine Wisdom. After all, we had nothing else.

At age 39, two days before our youngest son’s 16^th birthday, I found myself unexpectedly being prepped for emergency open heart surgery. As I fought back the tears of fear, my husband managed through his own tears the phrase, “Don’t go where I can’t follow.” And then they spoke again, “Patience child. So much sorrow has broken your heart and it needs to be repaired first. It is necessary.”

I recovered in 9 days. Completion. Now there was just one more turn on this path. “You must give up every material thing and start over with nothing but faith in the journey. It is necessary.”

With no hesitation, we gave it all up and started over in a new state with nothing but each other. Then it finally happened. One night, in a span of three hours, I got the answer to every ‘why’ I had ever asked. (And quite a few I never considered.) From that day on, the knowledge and purpose came streaming through at a rate that shot straight past the speed of light. All of it made sense. Every single miniscule moment in my life finally made sense and I knew. I knew who I was, what I was to do and why everything happened the way it did. And then they spoke again, “Child, your patience has paid off, now you understand why it was all necessary.” And so now we walk this path hand in hand, but we know where we are going, what we are to do and the trail behind us has a whole different look. It is no longer a path of pain, but a specifically designed obstacle course to prepare us for the purpose at hand.

For the first time in my life, I shed tears of joy as I speak to the Collective in their language, our language. “Danka Do! Ja Verstandetta! Ti si Luminasolid.” (That means, Thank You! I understand! It was necessary!) And I leave all who have read this tale a reminder. When in doubt, keep looking up. After all, it IS necessary.