…A year ago, I met this stranger on an airplane….
He was a handsome man about my age. He sat by the window listening to music and didn’t look up as I crawled clumsily over the isle guy, falling into the middle seat next to him. Don’t get me wrong, I’m about the same in airplanes as elevators, not especially social; but he didn’t even glance up for a perfunctory “hello.”
In mid-flight, I was trying to get my book out of my carry-on under the seat in front of me. Of course, the seat in front of me was by now in a ‘laid back relax’ mode. We all know what that means. When you try to reach your bag, you can’t get your head forward enough without hitting the seat in front of you; so you either need monkey arms or you need to be flexible like a contortionist. Struggling, I believe my head was practically in Airplane guys lap before he finally took his ear buds out.
We exchanged about five minutes of small talk; maybe ten. Isn’t it funny that this is how it happens, some of the profound moments of your life? Speaking of profound, during that time I must have said something insightful because he admitted he hated talking to people on the airplane. He said that whatever I had said changed his view about something that apparently impacted him deeply. Whatever it was, I’m sure it was ‘of me” but not “from me’ as I have no recollection of what I might have said. He then told me to pick up a copy of a book. He scribbled the title of this book on a tiny, itsy bitsy yellow stick um pad. With a flourish he added his email address below it and reattached his ear buds to his head. I was flattered and always thought I might email him. Secretly, I think he hoped I would too.
About a year later, I discovered that little scrap of paper in one of my purses, along with all kinds of other notes and random cards, most of which meant absolutely nothing to me by then. After scrutiny I remembered from whence this particular yellow sticky note originated. By now it was ‘mile weary’ with lint, lip gloss and other purse goo on it. I could just barely make out the title of the book let alone his email address. Alas, romance must have not been in the stars. It must have been all about “the book”.
Nonetheless, I stuck the note on my office desk for a few more months in a “to-do” stack that I usually shuffle around occasionally until I can finally just discard it. One day, with my hand paused over the trash can, Spirit said, “Just order that darned book already!” So I did. It must be incredibly frustrating trying to get people on the physical plane to do things that would actually help them ‘evolve’. First my Spirit Guide had to imprint Airplane guy’s mind, “tell her about the book-you know the one.” Then Spirit had to implant the idea that I should clean out my purse, something no one wants to do. Finally, my mind needed to be imprinted one more time before I actually ordered the book. Let’s just call this concept Synchronicity even though it may just be a popular anti-coincidence theory.
About this same time, out of nowhere, like most things I write about, I started excavating a piece I called “What’s Love Got to Do with It”? Man, I must have re-envisioned, re-structured and rewritten that thing a million times over three months. Love is such a big topic that the entire project just became unwieldy; after all, purportedly Love is all there is. Finally, I realized that even though I knew a lot about love, not necessarily all the good kinds, that the love I really wanted to know about now was “the BIG love that only God knew.” I was ready to leap in with both feet to become a ‘Big Love’ expert. Problem was, I had no idea how to get there from where I was.
Ironically, though, while I was writing “What’s Love Got to Do with It?” it seemed like every week (or day) some random person or source would say, “You can’t love someone else until you love yourself.” The first couple of times I thought, “Whatever!” Then I began to think, “What the heck is going on here?” For example, some guy I barely knew passed me in the hall at the movie theatre coming from the men’s room while I exited the ladies room. “Hey, how are you?” Within two sentences he mentioned he was visiting his daughter and out of the blue she had asked him, “Dad, do you love yourself?” This caused a conversation to ensue, of course. Coincidence? I don’t think so. Curious and Curiouser.
Actually, that whole love yourself cliché always kind of pissed me off, to be honest. Deep down, I was a pretty harsh critic when it came to me. Twenty years ago, when this cliché theory originated, I remember looking in the mirror like Stuart Smalley taught us on Saturday Nite Live. He would say, “I’m good enough. I’m smart enough and dog gone it, people like me.” With tenderness, I looked into my eyes in the reflection of a hand held mirror and said, “I love you.” My higher self must have been out flying around the universe so Ego took the call. Not buying it, instantly I hear that annoying voice, “Jeesh, when is the last time you plucked your eyebrows anyway?”
A few months ago I was chatting with my son through a psychic, which occasionally I do one anniversary date or another. He was apologizing for sending crazy people (as he called them) my way because he thought somehow I could help them. I said, “Chad, instead of ‘crazies’, why don’t you send me someone to love? A boyfriend perhaps? It’s been a really long time and it would be nice to have someone authentic to love.” What do you think Chad said? “I’ll work on that but first”….(you got it)…. “You have to love yourself.” “Damn it, really? Arrrggh!” The psychic laughed and said, “I knew you were going to hate that”; but she did give me a good parting tip. She said, “Start out by making love an action” (verb instead of noun). “It’ll catch on and grow.”
So here I am, searching for Big Love. I had no experience with how to really go about loving myself. Furthermore, I strongly surmised that the big love that I was now seeking was a whole lot bigger and, maybe even simpler then the convoluted conditional kind that I had known while walking around in my flesh suit.
During this time, I was called to go see Anita Moorijani, author of “Dying to Be Me”, when she visited Denver. Afraid of cancer her entire life, she did everything healthy to avoid getting it. Ironically, she died while in a coma after all of her organs shut down after a long battle with cancer. She flat lined. When she came back into her body, one of the messages she had been given from the ‘other side’, where time doesn’t exist, was to share that our purpose here on this planet is to learn how to love ourselves. I would add to that, loving ourselves throughout every experience life has to offer; the good, the bad and the ugly. There it is, officially gospel. OK, ok, I got it! But how do you do it and how long is this gonna take? I bet there are secrets, Jedi Mind tricks, in this new book that Airplane guy turned me on to. By the way, Anita recovered miraculously from her cancer completely in just a few weeks.
Since I write as an exercise of discovery, I’m sharing just in case the concept of love is befuddling to you too. I know there are a lot of people out there that have this one ‘all figured out’. They are the same ones that keep telling me to go into the light. I spent a lifetime looking in all the wrong places for sure.
So, that’s the back story about how my latest topic the Golden Egg came about. Alchemy feels like giving birth and if I’m lucky, it just might be a HOT molten Golden Egg or maybe a Nugget would be good. Therefore, I hope the book has some important and interesting messages for us on physicality and “What Love has Got to do with it.” Stay tuned for the conclusion (Part III) of the Golden Egg.
Until then, I’ll leave you with this thought provoking piece from ― Jack Kerouac
“I have lots of things to teach you now, in case we ever meet, concerning the message that was transmitted to me under a pine tree in North Carolina on a cold winter moonlit night. It said that Nothing Ever Happened, so don’t worry. It’s all like a dream. Everything is ecstasy, inside. We just don’t know it because of our thinking-minds. But in our true blissful essence of mind is known that everything is alright forever and forever and forever. Close your eyes, let your hands and nerve-ends drop, stop breathing for 3 seconds, listen to the silence inside the illusion of the world, and you will remember the lesson you forgot, which was taught in immense milky way soft cloud innumerable worlds long ago and not even at all. It is all one vast awakened thing. I call it the golden eternity. It is perfect. We were never really born, we will never really die. It has nothing to do with the imaginary idea of a personal self, other selves, many selves everywhere: Self is only an idea, a mortal idea. That which passes into everything is one thing. It’s a dream already ended. There’s nothing to be afraid of and nothing to be glad about. I know this from staring at mountains months on end. They never show any expression, they are like empty space. Do you think the emptiness of space will ever crumble away? Mountains will crumble, but the emptiness of space, which is the one universal essence of mind, the vast awakenerhood, empty and awake, will never crumble away because it was never born.”