Why I Write. Why I Sing.

Sharing my books and music are the byproducts of years of introspection, writing, discerning and seeking to know ‘the why’ of my purpose in life.

As a youngster I remember how fearful I was of the learning process.  “What if I don’t know the answers?  What if I can’t figure it out?  What if everybody else knows how to do it and I don’t?”

The ‘what ifs’ paralyzed me while I prayed for solace.  I prayed for a miracle although I didn't then know the manner in which it could be granted. 

After years of praying for some change in form...in me, in 'them'...in the process, the miracle was realized.  Not in form, but in spirit. I was essentially raised from the dead.  The shroud was lifted and Light erased the darkness that pervaded my waking, and even sleeping hours.

It was late in the game when I decided to switch my high school focus from business readiness to higher education.  I was behind my peers in taking the required courses. In my senior year, college admission hinged on a single course, chemistry.  I needed it for my NYS Regents sequence and it was required for entry into my chosen major. But fear had gripped me. I had convinced myself that I couldn’t break the code of the symbols, the balancing of equations; that I couldn’t memorize the valances or master the Periodic Table. I proved myself absolutely correct by failing the midterm…big time. Yes, it would take a miracle to pass the course and gain entry into college.

My parents, my cheerleaders and supporters earnestly backed my dreams. They invested in my aspirations emotionally and financially. The chemistry tutor they hired was (it seemed) my last hope for fulfilling my life’s hidden desire to become a teacher. 

Mr. Flynn explained, diagrammed, calculated, cajoled and then…explained again. But, Fear wrapped its cold hand over my eyes and stuck its fingers in my ears.  My frozen self perceived my teacher as a mime, he the performer, me the bewildered audience.

“Oh please, God.  Please help me,” I silently prayed as I felt myself falling back into the familiar damp, treacherous hole.

Then it happened! 

“Wait, what was that you just said,” I asked as I sat straight up, grabbed Fear’s hand and bent it backwards.  “Tell me that again, please,” I pleaded with my teacher as I peered down at Fear now trying to wrap himself around my midsection in his customary fashion. 

“Excuse me?” a bewildered and wide-eyed Mr. Flynn asked.

“That last thing you just said.  What was it?”

As my tutor ran through his explanation, I ferociously kicked Fear off of me. The preying monster lay stunned on the linoleum floor of our finished basement. I watched as he tucked his tale between his legs and ambled to the corner, sullen and dazed.

With my eyes and ears opened anew, I heard, I saw and at last, I began to understand.  By shrugging off of that tempestuous ghoul the darkness immediately turned to Light. The miracle, which simply awaited my request was at last received.

Like a starving child, I gobbled up the information my tutor was now eagerly serving me. Ladle after ladle of delicious facts and figures. “More, more!” I begged.  “Feed me, teach me more!”

***

Why did the miracle occur?   

Because “nothing real can be threatened and nothing unreal exists.” ACIM I-2:2-3

What was unreal? 

Fear, the darkness, the ghoulish ego haunting my all-too absorbent mind.

What was real? 

The Light. Love. The love my tutor shared as he joined with me and strove to break through my veil of darkness.  My courage to believe that there must be another way. And, the tenacity to call out to my Inner Source in the belief that the Answer would be given. It was, of course.

Ahhhh.  (T)herein lies the peace of God. I-2:4

Photos by Barb Adams (C) 2014