In the Darkest Space: A Personal Story

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“I’m not just along anymore.  I’ve finally found what I’ve been looking for!  I might be sitting in the passenger side, but not along for the ride.  Because I’ve got control of a homegrown situation…  Thought the darkest space, where I try to catch up to the catchphrase.  To the human race, I say, ‘let the games begin!’  Underway, set in conditions that we play in, oh maybe these things are better this way, oh!  May the games begin today, oh!”  Jason Mraz, The Darkest Space

Something tells me today that somebody is needing to hear this.  They’ve gone through some really incredibly bad experiences in the past, and while they can clearly feel the call of Source to move into their full, beautiful, magical, creative being, who they REALLY are, and who they KNOW they are, they just don’t quite see how it can come to be.  It’s difficult, if not impossible, to see a future point where they’re free, where they’re laughing and alive, where they’re radiant and joyful.  It’s just so far!  It’s just so… so… not “here”.

Well, my gorgeous, creative genius?  You’re asking, and the Universe has already been moving faster than you can imagine to answer you.  This is for you.  This is your “snapshot” of the future.

And it’s my story.

For everyone else, though, let’s be very, very crystal clear before I begin.  This isn’t a call for compassion because I’m not hurting.  This isn’t a cry for help because, I assure you, I’m most definitely not broken.  This isn’t an expectation on you and your life because I’ve no doubt in my mind that where you are is precisely where you should be right now, and there is SO much difference between everything about us that I can’t begin to relate to your motivations, your reasons, your viewpoints, your reality.  And indeed, given the loving agreements we all make before coming into the physical, and the brilliant wisdom we have in making them, absolutely NO ONE, including me, has even the ability to judge, much less the right.

But this is a promise that, regardless of where you are, who you think you are and what you think is possible for you; if you’re craving something different?  It’s already happening.  I’ve already been there, in that place, and I’ve already experienced firsthand just how unbelievably far the Universe will go to support you in the having of everything you’ve ever wanted to be, do or have.

We’re savvy?  Crystal clear?  Good.

I was two years old the first time I was molested.  I was four years old the first time my mother was beaten unconscious, when I was given my first alcoholic drink, when I entered my first bar and when I first learned how to beg for money.  I was five years old when (I thought) I was left with another family, this time for good, and I was adopted by the family.  I was six years old when my mother was raped, cut up and murdered, drowning in the Mississippi river (this month marks 26 years ago).  I was seven when I had my first surgery, a corrective procedure to fix a problem in which the tubes leading from my kidneys were malfunctioning and causing me to get very sick.

I can’t remember how old I was when we got the phonecall telling us that I had a sister.  I actually have two sisters, but we’ve yet to find the oldest.  I also have no idea who my father is or that side of the biological family, although I can pick out the physical traits in me that don’t come from my mother’s side, and so I know that, in some ways, I resemble him.

I’m no stranger whatsoever to alcoholism, nor domestic violence, though I won’t go into it out of respect for others’ privacy.  I will be clear that neither experience had anything to do with me directly, meaning that I’m not very fond whatsoever of alcohol nor have I ever allowed any man to touch me in any unkind way.

I ran away twice in my teenage years, dropped out of school in the tenth grade, first introduced to drugs at 14, married at age 15, divorced at age 17.  My ex husband was an alcoholic and, while very intelligent and ambitious, couldn’t hold a job.  I was 16 when I was first shot at, the first time I went hungry since adoption, the first time I was solicited by a judge for a “favor”, the first time I realized the only one who could protect me, who would keep me safe, was me.  I was 18 when I got my GED and entered college.

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