PART TWO — SEEKING UNDERSTANDING

I listened to a Buddhist monk, and I immediately recognized the peaceful energy he carried. Not just the words — the vibration. The calm presence.

I knew that feeling because I lived in deep meditation for nearly two years myself.

I withdrew from the noise of the world. I let go of attachments. I lost almost everything society told me mattered — money, comfort, identity, certainty.

Yet somehow, through the surrender, I gained far more.

I gained peace.

I gained wisdom.

I gained my Higher Self.

I gained Gnosis — not belief or blind faith, but inner knowing.

That knowing does not come from memorizing teachings. It comes through experience, silence, stillness, observation, suffering, and surrender.

One thing Buddhists and I strongly align on is the understanding of cycles and reincarnation — not only after death, but within this life itself.

Imagine a hamster wheel. Have you ever noticed the same situations, emotional patterns, relationships, and lessons repeating over and over again? Different faces. Different places. Same energy.

There are layers to the wheel.

There is the wheel within this lifetime — repeating wounds, patterns, and lessons. Then there is the greater soul wheel — deeper cycles unfolding across lifetimes, intertwined with the evolution of consciousness itself.

As above, so below.

As within, so without.

As the soul, so the universe.

The deeper I went inward, the more I understood that reality has layers hidden beneath the surface. Healing has layers. Truth has layers. Even the self has layers.

At one point, I honestly thought maybe I would become a Buddhist monk as a backup plan for life.

Then I discovered monks are traditionally not allowed to sing or dance.

And I knew immediately… that path was not mine.

I am Grateful for the Buddhist monk who taught me a meditation chant:

 I learned about Indigenous cultures through school, movies, and the environment around me. Yet little did I know that the connection I felt seemed to come from something much deeper and more ancient within me.

A couple of years ago, I watched a short clip about the Trail of Tears. What happened next was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. I began crying the deepest tears I had ever felt. The grief felt ancient, overwhelming, and far beyond ordinary emotion. The pain in my heart became so intense I had to turn the video off because it felt unbearable.

A few days later, while sharing the experience with my daughter, those same tears returned. The pain rushed back as though something deep within me was mourning, remembering, or connecting to the suffering in a way I cannot fully explain with words.

I cannot say with certainty why these experiences affected me so deeply. I only know they felt real to me. The grief felt older than this lifetime, as though it belonged to a story much larger than my own.

Throughout history, many cultures have spoken of certain energies, archetypes, and sacred roles appearing again and again through different people and different times.

The names may change.

The cultures may change.

Yet the essence remains the same.

Throughout my awakening, I found myself drawn again and again to the wisdom carried through Indigenous traditions, to the sacred relationship between humanity and the Earth, and to the teachings of those who honored life as interconnected and holy.

At times, I wondered whether certain souls are called to carry ancient memories, archetypes, or energies forward into new generations—not as the same person returning, but as a continuation of the same spirit of healing, compassion, remembrance, and service.

Whatever the reason, these experiences awakened an even deeper love for humanity and strengthened my commitment to healing, the Earth, and the wisdom that has been preserved across generations.

That same respect for Indigenous wisdom continued appearing throughout my awakening journey.

I once listened to a Native elder speak about alcohol and how it can lower a person's vibration, disconnect them from inner clarity, and leave them more vulnerable to destructive thoughts, behaviors, and influences. In many traditions, these influences are sometimes described as negative spirits, energies, or forces that thrive when people become disconnected from themselves.

It made me think deeply: imagine how different the world might be if teachings like that were shared with us as children.

Early in my awakening journey, I heard someone say that even one alcoholic drink could lower your vibration for up to ten days.

Whether that is literally true or symbolic, the message stayed with me.

I had already stopped drinking, and I realized I truly had no desire to feel disconnected from my soul, my true self, or my higher awareness.

I spent time listening to an atheist duo online. They were highly intelligent and frequently invited Christians onto their live show. What often began as conversations would eventually become thoughtful debates where religious beliefs were challenged and examined.

I understand why many atheists feel the way they do.

When you begin looking closely at religious teachings, church history, contradictions, translations, and interpretations, many questions naturally arise.

My own family includes atheists, even my Son. The subject was rarely discussed beyond simply saying they did not believe in God, yet I fully understand how many people arrive at that conclusion.

Ironically, that atheist live show taught me quite a bit about the Bible itself.

Even after my awakening, I still had little desire to read Bible. 

That may sound surprising, yet during the months following my wormhole experience, I felt as though I had been shown truths directly through experience rather than through a book or a preacher.

While in what I can only describe as an expanded state of consciousness, I encountered ideas and realizations that later seemed remarkably similar to many spiritual teachings, including some of the teachings attributed to Jesus.

I found myself learning about forgiveness, love, unity, compassion, healing, inner transformation, and the connection between humanity and the Divine without having studied those concepts through religion.

When I eventually began exploring the Bible, history, and different spiritual traditions, I was often surprised to discover parallels between what I had experienced internally and what various teachers, mystics, and spiritual paths had been describing for centuries.

For a long time, I assumed Jesus had written the Bible Himself. That was simply the impression I had gathered from the way many people spoke about it.

Later, I learned that Jesus did not write the Bible at all. What surprised me even more was discovering that the Old Testament had been written centuries before Jesus was born, meaning He would have grown up learning from those earlier teachings and scriptures.

That realization raised an important question for me:

How could so much emphasis be placed on Jesus while so little attention was given to the spiritual traditions, history, and teachings that came before Him?

At times, it felt as though people spoke about history as though humanity had suddenly appeared with Jesus, rather than recognizing the thousands of years of civilizations, wisdom traditions, and spiritual teachings that came before Him.

The more I learned, the more I found myself wanting to understand the bigger picture.

One point atheists frequently make is that the God portrayed in parts of the Bible can appear harsh, violent, or difficult to reconcile with the idea of an all-loving Creator.

I understand that perspective.

As someone who has always been highly sensitive to energy and emotion, some of the stories I encountered in the Bible were difficult for me to process. Stories involving violence, punishment, suffering, and fear often left me with more questions than answers.

I found myself wishing that some of the deeper spiritual lessons could have been presented in ways that felt more symbolic, compassionate, healing, and easier for children to understand.

The deeper I explored history, religion, and the Bible itself, the easier it became to understand why many atheists reject organized religion altogether.

At the same time, I also came to feel that some atheists may be rejecting more than religion.

To me, religion and God are not even close to being the same thing.

The fact remains that neither Jesus nor God physically wrote the Bible. Human beings did. Human beings translated it, interpreted it, selected which books would be included, and passed those interpretations from generation to generation.

My interest was never in defending one religion or disproving another.

What fascinated me was the realization that many spiritual traditions seemed to contain pieces of the same larger truth.

I found teachings about love, forgiveness, compassion, healing, prayer, energy, consciousness, and inner transformation appearing across cultures and throughout history.

At the same time, I also found contradictions, divisions, fear-based teachings, and interpretations that did not resonate with my experiences.

The deeper I explored, the more it seemed that humanity had been given many pieces of a much larger puzzle.

Perhaps the path forward is not choosing one piece while rejecting all others.

Perhaps it is recognizing the wisdom within each tradition, releasing what creates division, and bringing the pieces together in a way that helps humanity remember who we truly are.

To me, that feels much closer to unity.

One of the most common questions atheists ask is why suffering exists at all.

These are questions I have wrestled with myself.

Through my own experiences and spiritual exploration, I arrived at a different perspective.

I came to believe that we are far more than our physical bodies and that the soul's journey may extend far beyond a single lifetime.

Many spiritual traditions teach that souls come into this world to learn, grow, heal, experience, and evolve. Some even suggest that certain lessons, challenges, and opportunities are chosen before incarnation as part of a larger journey of growth and remembrance.

Whether one agrees with that perspective or not, it offered me a different way of viewing suffering.

Rather than seeing life's challenges as proof that God is absent, I began to wonder whether there are aspects of existence that cannot be fully understood from our limited human perspective.

This does not make suffering easy.

Nor does it remove the compassion we should feel for those who are hurting.

Yet it changed how I viewed the question.

For me, the purpose of the soul is not simply comfort. It is growth, learning, remembering, and becoming.

Perhaps part of awakening is recognizing that there may be a greater purpose unfolding beneath experiences we do not yet fully understand.

For me, questioning religion did not lead me away from God.

It led me to ask deeper questions.

And after my own experiences, I came to believe that whatever God truly is, it is far greater, far more loving, and far less limited than many human descriptions allow.

In the end, I found myself agreeing with atheists on some things, religious people on others, and neither side completely.

That realization pushed me to continue searching for truth beyond labels, beliefs, and divisions.

Near-Death Experiences and Consciousness

As I continued exploring consciousness, spirituality, and the possibility that awareness may exist beyond the physical body, I found myself deeply drawn to stories from people who had near-death experiences.

People from different cultures, religions, ages, and backgrounds often returned describing remarkably similar themes.

Many spoke of overwhelming peace.

Unconditional love.

A feeling of being connected to everything.

Some described leaving their physical body and observing events from above. Others spoke of light, life reviews, spiritual beings, or a feeling of returning "home."

What fascinated me most was not whether every detail matched perfectly, but how often the deeper message remained the same.

Many people returned less afraid of death, more compassionate, more connected, and more aware of how deeply our actions affect one another.

Again and again, one message seemed to echo through their stories:

Love matters.

Connection matters.

How we treat one another matters.

Many also returned saying the physical world no longer felt like the full picture of reality.

Some described consciousness continuing beyond the body. Others spoke of life on Earth as a place of learning, healing, growth, and spiritual evolution.

Before my awakening experiences, I probably would have dismissed many of these stories entirely.

Yet after what I experienced in 2018, I found myself listening differently—not from blind belief, but from curiosity, recognition, and the feeling that humanity still understands very little about consciousness, the soul, and the true nature of existence.

The more stories I heard, the more I noticed another pattern.

Many people who returned from near-death experiences no longer seemed overly concerned with status, wealth, appearance, or social division.

Instead, they spoke about kindness, relationships, nature, inner peace, gratitude, and being fully present in life.

It made me wonder whether modern humanity has become distracted from the things that matter most.

I do not claim to have all the answers.

I am still exploring.

Still questioning.

Still learning.

Yet the deeper I looked into these experiences, the harder it became to ignore the possibility that human consciousness extends far beyond what we currently understand.

Whether these experiences are glimpses into another reality, encounters with deeper levels of consciousness, or something else entirely, they continue to raise important questions about who we are and why we are here.

And once again, the same message seemed to echo through it all:

Love is the most important thing. 

I met a guru who was clearly aligned with nature, the ancestors, natural healing, energy, the Earth, vibrations, frequencies, and the understanding that love is one of the most important forces in existence. He believed in healing through herbs and many other natural methods.

Yet the moment the word “God” was mentioned, something within him seemed to resist.

What I have come to understand is that humanity has created countless labels for what may ultimately be pointing toward the same deeper source or truth.

There are many awakened people who believe everything exists within you — that you are God, your own creator, and the one holding the power. And to a certain extent, I believe that is true. We do carry creative power within us. We have free will, consciousness, and the ability to shape our lives through our choices, thoughts, and actions.

Yet I also believe there is something greater taking place beyond the self alone.

It brings me back to the ancient understanding:

"As above, so below. As within, so without."

What exists within us also reflects the greater universe around us.

To me, God is not only within you — God is also beyond you. The Divine exists both internally and externally at the same time.

Yes, we have the power to create and choose our path, yet there is also something I have come to recognize as Divine Will. There are moments when life begins guiding you beyond personal desires, beyond ego, and beyond the illusion of total control.

Perhaps some people have not yet reached the level of awareness where Divine Will becomes undeniable, because it requires deep inner balance and spiritual maturity. It requires learning to harmonize the masculine and feminine energies within yourself and becoming whole internally before fully understanding your connection to something greater.

Only then can a person begin to understand the difference between personal will and Divine alignment — between simply creating from the self and becoming one with the Divine itself. 

Over the last few years, after stepping out into the world in the way I felt spiritually guided to, I began interacting with many different groups of people, including Christians, mostly online.

What surprised me was how different my understanding of Jesus had become from many of the Christians I encountered.

I have great respect for Jesus.

Through my spiritual experiences, I came to see Him as a powerful example of Divine Love, compassion, healing, forgiveness, and service to humanity. To me, He became a living example of what is possible when someone becomes deeply aligned with the Divine.

At the same time, I found myself questioning many of the teachings that had been built around Him.

As I explored meditation, inner stillness, consciousness, energy, and the soul, I began noticing that some of the things I was experiencing did not seem to align with many of the interpretations I was hearing from churches and religious leaders.

Rather than pulling me away from Jesus, those experiences led me to look more deeply into His life and teachings.

As I mentioned in an earlier chapter, one of the questions that kept resurfacing for me was the Bible itself.

I Knew Catholics

My connection to Catholics is deeply personal, as many of my closest friends throughout my life have been Catholic.

My Reiki Experience with a Catholic

I recently received Reiki from a Reiki Master who also carried strong Catholic influence, and I was surprised by what she sensed within me. She felt deep grief stored in my abdomen that was ready to be released.

This happened during the New Moon in Taurus, and later I discovered many people associated that moon with releasing grief and emotional heaviness on both a personal and collective level.

Even as a Reiki Master myself, I recognize and value the gifts others carry. Most of my healing journey has been deeply internal, and my ability to seek guidance or support from others has been limited throughout these seven years of awakening due to financial constraints.

At the same time, I often felt as though I was being held inside an energetic bubble of isolation—almost as though unseen barriers were preventing certain people from helping me directly, requiring much of my growth, healing, and understanding to come from within.

One of my closest childhood friends—a deeply devoted Catholic whom I have known since I was two years old—also helped me better understand energy, frequency, and the importance of the environment we surround ourselves with.

She has always lived differently from much of society. She spends time in nature, walks outdoors often, eats intentionally, maintains strong boundaries, and limits the negativity and chaos entering her life and energetic field.

As a child, her family's devotion to the church felt extremely intense to me, almost cult-like at times. Yet as I grew older, I began recognizing something deeper beneath that structure: discipline, simplicity, devotion, and a way of living that protected her peace and energy.

During periods when I felt spiritually isolated from much of the world, this Catholic friend—someone I would describe as genuinely saint-like—remained present in my life. I came to realize that while many people seemed to drift out of my life during those years, only a small handful of high-vibration individuals remained consistently within my energy field.

Drinking alcohol was never her thing. She never used drugs and never fully embraced many of the distractions and behaviors heavily normalized by society.

During that season, very few people remained close to me energetically aside from my awakened daughter, my father, his wife, and this lifelong friend.

At the same time, I struggled deeply with how anyone could continue supporting the Catholic Church while turning a blind eye to the abuse that has occurred within it, particularly involving children.

When I awakened and began learning more about institutional corruption and difficult chapters of history, the Catholic Church became one of the hardest things for me to forgive.

My struggle was never with the loving people I knew within the church.

My struggle was with the harm that had been allowed to occur and the silence that often surrounded it.

As I continued exploring different religions and spiritual traditions, I found myself wrestling with another question as well.

Why has the feminine so often been diminished, excluded, silenced, or placed beneath the masculine?

Again and again, I encountered traditions, teachings, and institutions where women appeared to have less authority, less influence, or less spiritual significance than men.

That never felt aligned with what I experienced during my awakening.

The Divine I encountered felt whole.

Balanced.

Both masculine and feminine.

For me, healing humanity requires honoring both.

Not one above the other.

Not one ruling over the other.

Both working together in harmony.

Yet I also came to realize that institutions and individuals are not always the same thing.

Some of the kindest, most loving, and most spiritually grounded people I have known have been Catholic.

That realization taught me an important lesson: every group contains both light and shadow.

As I explored different religions and spiritual traditions, I found wisdom that resonated with me and teachings that did not.

Some traditions felt deeply aligned with love, healing, balance, and personal transformation. Others left me questioning ideas that seemed to diminish the value of the feminine, limit human potential, or create unnecessary separation between people and the Divine.

Rather than rejecting entire traditions, I found myself asking a different question:

What helps people become more loving, more compassionate, more balanced, and more connected to the Divine?

That became the measure I returned to again and again.

Not the label.

Not the institution.

The fruit it produces.

  I MET A MORMON

I finally put my finger on what feels different about Mormons.

It is a feeling.

A frequency.

Not exactly the same feeling I experienced around the Buddhist monk I mentioned earlier, yet a similar sense of peace, kindness, and gentleness.

Honestly, I have found Mormons to be one of the kindest groups of people I have encountered. In my personal experiences with them—whether it was the two young women studying the Book of Mormon at a table next to me who confirmed the information about April 6th, the Mormon family I grew up around, or several people I have met online—they have generally seemed open, respectful, and willing to have thoughtful conversations with others.

At one point, I asked AI to outline the differences between Mormon beliefs and more traditional Christian beliefs, and I realized there were perspectives I could understand and appreciate. The more I explore different religions and spiritual paths, the more I see that many belief systems seem to hold pieces of a much larger picture.

Personally, I believe humanity would benefit greatly from coming together, recognizing the wisdom, love, and truth that can be found across many traditions, and focusing less on division. When we begin uniting around what uplifts humanity, supports healing, and restores balance to the Earth, we move closer to the path the Divine intended for us.

To be fair, I was muted once by a Mormon—or possibly an ex-Mormon—though that is a separate story I will save for another time.

I also learned that many Mormons believe Jesus Christ was born on April 6th, and that Joseph Smith officially founded the church on April 6th as well.

Yes...

My birthday.

I Met Jews, Muslims, and Others

My direct experiences with Jewish and Muslim communities have been more limited than my experiences with some of the other groups I have written about.

I did spend time listening to online discussions where people from different faiths debated one another. One particular discussion involved a panel of Jewish participants and a Christian guest.

What struck me most was not who was right or wrong.

It was the division.

The conversation often felt less like people searching for truth together and more like people defending positions.

At times, it reminded me of watching political debates between Democrats and Republicans.

Everyone seemed convinced they had the answer, yet very few appeared willing to consider that someone else might hold a piece of the puzzle as well.

That made me sad.

Not because people disagreed.

Disagreement can be healthy.

What saddened me was how often the search for truth seemed to be replaced by the need to be right.

My only direct interaction with a rabbi online was brief. Much like some of my experiences with priests, the conversation ended quickly once I began asking questions that fell outside traditional beliefs.

At the same time, one of the kindest people I ever met was Jewish.

We never really discussed religious beliefs. Whenever the topic came up, she would simply smile and say, "We are Jew."

That was enough.

I would smile back and quietly think to myself, I have no idea what that means.

We simply enjoyed one another's company and shared genuine friendship.

She passed away not long after we became friends, and her loss affected me deeply.

That experience reminded me of something important.

Long before we know someone's religion, politics, culture, or beliefs, we experience their energy, their character, and the way they treat others.

The deeper I explored different faiths and traditions, the more I found myself arriving at the same conclusion.

Human beings have created many paths.

Many names.

Many traditions.

Many interpretations.

Yet beneath them all, I often sensed the same longing:

To understand why we are here.

To understand what happens when we die.

To understand our connection to one another, to the Earth, and to the Divine.

The labels may be different.

The rituals may be different.

The language may be different.

Yet the questions are often the same.

And perhaps, somewhere beneath all of those differences, we are searching for the same truth.

Those Deconstructing Religion

To those deconstructing religion, I offer this perspective:

If your understanding is based solely on books, teachings, doctrines, or the opinions of others, without personal experience or direct inner exploration, it may be difficult to know what is truly true.

In my view, knowledge can be studied, debated, and analyzed.

Wisdom comes through experience.

Some truths are not found in books.

They are discovered through living, questioning, seeking, feeling, and experiencing life for yourself.

When you truly awaken, you begin to see that Spirit is far greater than any single religion.

Across cultures and traditions, people have used many names for this sacred presence: the Soul, the Higher Self, Divine Consciousness, Source, Creator, Great Spirit, Life Force, Spirit, the Holy Spirit, Chi, Qi, Prana, Universal Intelligence, Divine Energy, and the Breath of Life.

Though the names differ, many point toward the same unseen reality.

As my awareness expanded, I came to see that the soul, consciousness, and energy exist beyond the boundaries of man-made systems. I also began noticing how religious divisions have often separated humanity into different groups, beliefs, and identities, creating conflict where unity could exist.

When you experience energy directly and begin to recognize yourself as a spiritual being having a human experience, something changes.

You realize that your connection to the Divine does not require an institution, a building, or another person standing between you and God.

The soul already knows the way.

I sometimes joke that my backup plan has always been to disappear into the mountains or live off-grid in the jungle and let humanity continue arguing with itself.

Many awakened people reach a point where they grow tired of trying to convince others of what they have experienced.

They have spent years pointing toward love, inner transformation, healing, self-discovery, and direct connection with the Divine, only to be dismissed, misunderstood, or ignored.

Over time, I came to realize that genuine awakening cannot be forced upon anyone.

Each person must arrive there in their own time.

Some people find truth through religion.

Some find it through nature.

Some through suffering.

Some through prayer, meditation, service, or deep self-reflection.

My personal experience has been that direct experience teaches far more than belief alone.

That does not mean religion contains no truth.

Far from it.

I found wisdom in many traditions.

At the same time, I often found myself questioning interpretations that seemed to place greater importance on doctrine than transformation, or belief than experience.

To me, the deepest teachings of Jesus were never about blind belief.

They were about love.

Forgiveness.

Healing.

Transformation.

And direct connection with the Divine.

Perhaps that is why so many awakened people eventually arrive at a similar realization:

Truth is not something another person can hand you.

It is something you must discover for yourself.

At the same time, I also began feeling that humanity may be approaching a larger turning point.

A kind of Divine timing.

A period where more and more people are beginning to question old beliefs, seek deeper meaning, heal old wounds, and awaken to a greater understanding of themselves and the world around them.

While I believe awakening ultimately happens from within, I also believe stories have power.

Experiences have power.

Sometimes hearing another person's journey helps someone recognize something within themselves that has been waiting to awaken.

That is one of the reasons I chose to share mine.

I do not believe I am here to awaken the world by myself.

Yet I do believe we are living in a time when many people are being called to remember who they truly are.

The Earth itself seems to be calling for change.

We depend on clean water, clean air, healthy food, thriving ecosystems, and peaceful communities.

Humanity cannot continue living in separation from nature, from one another, and from the principles that sustain life without consequences.

To me, awakening is about far more than personal enlightenment.

It is about healing.

It is about responsibility.

It is about learning to live in greater harmony with ourselves, one another, and the Earth itself.

Perhaps the next step for humanity is not simply individual awakening, but collective healing.

And from that healing, unity can emerge.

A unity rooted not in sameness, but in remembering that we are all part of something far greater than ourselves.