The Art of Spiritual Curiosity
The Art of Spiritual Curiosity

The Art of Spiritual Curiosity

I am not a religious person; although, I regularly attended a Southern Baptist church with my babysitter. I was around 7/8 at the time. I loved the Sunday school part, and although I could never carry a tune, I loved listening to the choir. To this day, a strong gospel voice will absolutely move me to tears. When the pastor would talk about coming up to receive the Light of Christ, I wanted to go so badly. If you’ve seen Baz Luhrmann’s “Elvis”, you can imagine how much I connected to young Elvis being pulled in by the power of a good revival. Every Sunday I wanted to go to the front, but I never did. Something always held me back. I think it was fear of judgement; the judgement of others, and maybe even my own parents (who weren’t even at church). Keep in mind, I would see energetic beings next to my bed when I fell asleep at night; although those visions would soon temporarily leave me for the next couple of decades. I became the Gen X cliche of a latchkey kid by age 9 and no longer went to church with my babysitter.

Around 11, my parents decided to go to a Lutheran church with some good friends. Those friends had daughters my age, and I was soon baptized in the Lutheran faith. I became an acolyte where I would don robes before church on Sunday mornings. I lit the candles and poured the wine into thimble-sized individual cups on days when Communion was offered. I never felt more at home than when I was involved in the “work” of the church. I can still clearly feel the comfort of tying the rope around the waist of my white cotton robe. I found comfort in the discipline, uniformity, and repetition of church pomp and prayer.

Around 14/15, I took Greek and Roman mythology classes in high school and absolutely loved learning about all of the gods and goddesses and their dramatic stories. I remember being especially curious about the psychic Delphian Priestesses giving messages from their seat of Euphoria. It was also at this time that my parents changed Lutheran churches. I went on some Sundays during my teen years. The new pastor was “interesting”. He crossed the union of my marriage with the same hand holding the mic. I wasn’t much involved in church after this as I went through several years of darkness, violence, and despair with my (now) ex-husband. Although, I did have one “spiritual moment” during that 7 years. We hosted local LDS missionaries for dinner a few times. When my middle child was 18-months-old, she came down with a sudden illness which had her in the hospital for about 2 weeks. After about the 3rd or 4th day in hospital, those missionaries came to her room where she lay semi-conscious, and they blessed her, placing oils on her head and praying over her. We started getting answers on her illness, and her health began to turn around, the next morning. I’m not saying that prayer cured her. She had already been in for a few days and answers were obviously on the way. But I’m also not saying prayer didn’t help. We didn’t see the missionaries much after that.

Around 27/28, I moved to Atlanta. On that road trip from Phoenix, I stopped in New Orleans where I experienced my very first intuitive card reading. In the back of Marie Laveau’s House of Voodoo. Off Bourbon Street. On Halloween. I’ll admit that I had a couple of hurricanes (of the alcoholic variety) by that point, and since I’d never had a reading before, I really didn’t know what to ask or how to act. The reader asked what I wanted to know about. I told them I had no clue what I wanted to ask, so “what should I ask about?” I was told that most people want to know about love, money, career, and health (usually in that order). So I said, “Let’s do it all then!” Over the next hour, I received a great reading with (unknown to me at the time) incredible specificity. The reader told me I would end up doing what they were doing (I blew it off because I had no interest whatsoever in a spiritual or intuitive journey) and they discussed things about work and even a temporary love interest (which, looking back, was eerily accurate in its description).

Around a year or so later, I set foot in my first metaphysical shop and bought my first deck of Tarot cards, “The Connolly Tarot”, and a great book, “Tarot: A New Handbook for the Apprentice”. Both were by the late great Eileen Connolly. I went home and did my first card reading that afternoon. The connections were unexpectedly accurate from that first reading, and I was hooked. Eileen included astrology and other items in her book. I hadn’t really been into the esoteric, or even remotely enthused by astrology, until that point. So, now firmly on my Tarot journey, I bought other books which incorporated astrology. And that information led me to astrology and Qabalah (which led me to the more traditional Kabbalah). My studies guided me to the angelic realm, and as I began learning about angels (through Kabbalah, Christianity, and other Abrahamic religions), they began presenting themselves to me.

I devoured an incredible amount of information during this time (1999 to about 2009). I read about religions, their history, their structures, leaders and gods/goddesses. I also read Jane Robert’s “Seth” series along with the Michael Teachings, and even Sylvia Browne’s books on her gnostic organization. Also, around 2000”ish”, I began watching a show called “Crossing Over with John Edward” on Sci-Fi. Of course, the exposure to this information only made me more spiritually-curious (and open).

I remember one night, maybe around 2002, where I went to bed and tried to sleep, but I just couldn’t. I kept hearing screaming and crying and someone was shouting about an explosion on a bus. An angel appeared at the foot of my bed. The largest being I’d ever encountered. I had a large alcove-like area at the entrance to my bedroom, and this winged angel took up that entire entrance, and then some. It was so incredibly tall, it could see it hunched over. I was told there had been a suicide bomber on a bus in Israel. I was hearing the screaming wails of those crying out for God. I was told I was in the presence of Sandalphon, the angel who brings messages from Earth to God. I tried sleeping but I couldn’t escape the audible carnage throughout the night. My significant other at the time was awake in the living room. I told him what I was seeing and hearing including the angel and the message. He knew I was on my path of spirituality at that point, even highly encouraging it, so he took it all in and told me to try to sleep. The next morning, after I finally got up from my terror-filled night, I made a huge coffee and went online to check the news. The headlines told me what I’d feared. There had indeed been another suicide bombing in Israel that day (my night) while I was failing miserably at sleeping in my bed in Phoenix (I had moved back from Atlanta and Charleston, SC only a few months earlier).

When my aunt passed in 2007, I was “instructed” by angels while on my way to see her at the hospice facility. After arriving, I leaned down and whispered into her ear, “Go to the light. Everyone will be okay. You need to go to the light. It’s okay to leave.” Within 10 to fifteen minutes she was gone. I officiated her funeral at the request of my cousins. I had been ordained with Universal Ministries in the early 2000’s so I could officiate weddings for friends.

By this time, I had been praying regularly, and with prayer, I had been meditating. With meditation, I became interested in mantra and then Buddhism. With Buddhism, I became interested in Hinduism (although I had already had some interest due to my studies on India’s Jainism and others). I was finding a spark of Truth in everything I learned. And the more I learned, the more I felt connected to “All That Is”.

I ended up receiving past life readings and attending mediumship classes as messages began flowing to me and through me. I was told by numerous psychics that I had a past life as a monk, friar, or priest in The Church (that made A LOT of sense, since I often thought about life in a monastery or convent). I feel a very strong connection (even a longing?) for Catholic iconography, especially images of The Holy Mother. I’ve also been told I spent time in ancient Sumeria, and I had a life in the 1400/1500’s living on the outskirts of a town in northern England as a healer. I have a strong connection to a quiet life in ancient nomadic Asia with my current middle child. I also lived and died as a child during The Holocaust (which also explains the deep fear I had of losing my parents for the first 6 or 7 years of my life this time around). I haven’t spent many lives here, not like other souls I know who have thick and busy books of life.

The angels still speak to me. I have a pretty strong relationship with my Spirit Guide (when I decide to actually listen), and some friends and loved ones on The Other Side help me out once in a while. So the reason I put “For the spiritually curious” on everything (including my Lenormand Seer Oracle), is because I want that spiritual spark to light someone’s personal path, maybe giving them impetus to study or learn, pushing them toward spiritual fulfillment and a closer understanding of Thyself. You needn’t be religious to be moved by The Spirit. You can go to church, read a book, pickup an oracle, or watch a spiritual show to get you started on a fulfilling (sometimes strange), life-changing, and infinite connection. It all begins with that pull of curiosity.

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