This is part of a series featuring my book Crystalline Consciousness: The Next Evolution in Human Energy. The Table of Contents will connect you to all posts in the series.
Chapter Two: My Journey to Crystalline Consciousness
The ability to understand what is happening to us and where we are headed is only fully understood in the context of human energy. I’m not referring to chakras and meridians, but about something that I call the energy self. This energy self responds to your requests, initiates healing sequences in the body, and interfaces between the third dimension we are anchored in and the multidimensional universe. I realize, now, I always knew about this energy self. It took me years, however, to become consciously aware of it and understand its nature, including how it is linked to our senses and our ability to learn, grow and evolve. It is also key to our ability to create in joy the reality we want for ourselves. It took me many years to understand that consciousness arises from this energy self and why that is so critical to understand at this time.
But let’s start at the beginning of my journey…
I grew up in the wild beauty of Montana. Other than my family and school, I was protected from a lot of socialization. This would prove to be both a blessing and curse throughout my life. The blessing was not being heavily indoctrinated into any restrictive religious or cultural traditions. Without that conditioning, I was able to continue to hear and connect to a place of “inner knowing” within me much longer than most children. This inner knowing is the conscious connection between the mind and the energy self.
The downside of this isolated life was that I felt unable to understand human interaction in social groups. I often blurted out the wrong thing, felt awkward within my own body in a social situation and had clumsy accidents. One of my family memories was standing too close to a birthday cake while talking to a cousin. In my enthusiastic reply to some question, I waved my hand in the air and hit the cake. My explanations of innocence not believed, I was sent to my room for “tasting the frosting.”
This clumsiness arose from my ability to perceive a person’s energy. The energy self was rarely on the same page as the conscious mind. While someone was talking and saying one thing, the energy self might be contradicting them, pulling some stunt that was funny, or worse, attacking me. I couldn’t figure out why so many people pretended the energy self didn’t exist. It seemed like I had unknowingly joined a game and no one bothered to tell me the rules. It wasn’t until years later when I learned how to communicate simultaneously to both the conscious mind and the energy self, that I felt like I fit in.
In the summers as a child, though, this problem did not plague me. I ran free outdoors, one with my horses and dogs. The primary sounds I heard were the sounds of rushing water, the wind in the pines, and the cry of a hawk passing overhead. The smell of earth, sage and bee balm under the warmth of the sun permeated my brain. And everywhere I looked I saw only beauty from moon-drenched cliffs, wildflowers alongside the trails or horses running across a meadow at full gallop.
There were other people around of course, but I hung out with children my age who were all in the same field of oneness and play. The conscious minds of my friends in our natural playground were always unified with their energy selves.
If summers in my childhood were heaven with connection to all life in joy, play, and light, then winters were hell. School was not a friendly place. From harsh smells and fluorescent lights, to complete restriction of movement, and unnatural times inflicted on me, I felt isolated and miserable. Both my senses and natural rhythms were deeply disturbed.
In the fourth grade, a time of important energetic development for children, I started a diary. Every day for a month, I wrote some variation of “I hate school.” That’s all I ever wrote in that journal. Strangely that child “me” kept the diary and years later I opened it to rediscover my miserable, inner child. Perhaps she yearned for an ally, someone to send her some light in that joyless building. I sent some back in time to her, and something within me eased.
Although school is supposed to be a place of learning, I did not find it so. Learning is a natural part of growth, which, as we all learned in biology class, is one of the indicators of life. It takes hard work to discourage children from being natural learners, but my school seemed up to the task. Instead of creating an atmosphere that fostered learning, my school like most others, focused on “socializing” children. The goal was to make me “fit in” and become a responsible citizen of the country. (That is code, by the way, for adding to the gross national product.)
My daughter, who was homeschooled for 7 years, went to school for a month in 2nd grade. She wanted to know what the “normal” school experience was like. Our agreement was that if she liked it she would stay on, and if she didn’t, we would go back to home schooling. I was curious to hear what her experience was. One day she remarked, “They have rules for everything, even for standing in line!” I immediately flashed back to standing in the lunch line and the hall monitor walking up and down and terrorizing us if we had too much fun while waiting.
The act of learning is an act of affirming life and that enhances joy. Imagine schools as places of joy, affirmation and reverence for life! If you were lucky enough to go to a school that encouraged creative thinking, music, art and physical movement, then you got a head start on many of your peers.