My 40 Year Out of Body Experience

One of the things I've always thought wanted to be was a writer. I guess I should say, an author. A teller of stories. Not only with the fame and fortune that implies (or implied back in the day) but also with the impact of showing people my point of view. My perception. That there is a different way, a different world, a different possibility. I do love writing. Both the act of typing--the click, click, busy activity of the fingers as they fly. And the act of writing--putting color and life onto a blank page. It's kind of a powerful feeling, to fill up, to bring into the physical world, these things that did not exist there in that space or place before. (huh. So that's what that feeling is. Wow. I haven't really articulated it that way before.) And since I love reading and I love writing and I have in fact written blogs and books and newletters and you could say that copywriting is one of my skills and people have read my stuff and enjoyed it,  And since I am willing ...

A friend asked, why a "40 year out of body experience"? Why not 30 or 20?   Partly, it is because I had a heart attack when I was 40 years old. Well, 40 and a half, but the 40 is the important part. Many years ago (I think I was about 20), I had a palm reading at one of those community parties, as you do. And she asked if I had had a major medical issue, or had a career change? I said nope.  The thing I remember is that  half way through my life, there would be a big change. So, when I had the heart attack, and the subsequent years of learning and relearning and exploring, I think of it as the half way point of my life. That I have 40 more years to go. 40 is stuck in my head as a significant number of years. From another angle:  I am now in my fifties.  And In my teen years (say, 40 years ago), I did try to commit suicide--in my own unique way. I decided to take a metaphysical train out of my body and into the heavens. Do a true out of body experienc...

  I was raised Catholic.  And yes, I was a good Catholic girl--which translates to "full of guilt". And as I grew, matured, stepped out into the world, the guilt did not subside, it became bigger. It morphed into fear. Anxiety. And panic attacks. The conscience that was to be my guide became a rigid set of expectations and beliefs that hamstrung me for a very long time. I was worried about my permanent record; that if I did my taxes wrong, the IRS would personally show up on my doorstep and cart me off to jail; that if I didn't follow the rules, I would be causing great pain to others. And whenever something happened to me, something painful or difficult, I knew it was because I must have done something wrong. I wasn't trying hard enough.  I have finally realized what the basis of that guilt was. I grew up in the 70's and 80's, so Jesus was a friend. In fact, I don't think I needed any imaginary friends, because I had Jesus. We were close. And then I was t...