Universe’s talk found me captured, trapped in my broken car. Fire starting in the front engine. Crushed bones, gasping with my slowing breath, expanding to the most serene stillness that I had forgotten was possible.
Until I was over thirty-five years old, I was proud of my imaginative, blabbering mind. My inner voice would continuously speak, with mostly positive self-talk and creative ideas, yet also quietly weaving in the voice of my countless fears. Thoughts that broke down and examined all possible outcomes of the events in my life. Nonstop internal chatter.
Other than a few memorable occasions, the births of my daughters, nursing, and powerful moments in the magnificence of nature, my active self-talk ensured that I was never in the now.
The invitation to the possible came in a few short moments. A car crashed into mine, and I flew out of my injured, distressed body without thought. No choice. No blabbering. Not even an observation of the probable outcomes. A near death experience (NDE). An invitation to gain answers to questions I was unaware I was asking.
The pain was unbearable. The flight out of my broken body was a magical cosmic floating. Unaware and without any conscious thought. I found myself embraced by LOVE. Recalling who I am. The energy that I am. Wishing to stay, yet knowing I have to return, I fell back into my screaming body.
Confined to my hospital bed, I daydreamed. Daydreaming, which became more like shamanic journeying (not that I knew what journeying was back then). Journeying, invited me to explore other dimensions of reality, offering healing and nourishment. It was an invitation to open up to something so daunting that I forcefully resisted. I would ease into the images dancing within me, the beeping of the monitor transforming into a soft, mellow tone, my body reposing into something between peaceful rest and sleep. Simultaneously, my conscious mind would be fighting my closing eyes and expanding heart, drifting into other dimensions of reality with only partial will.
Unlike many others who experience their NDE as an initiation, retrospectively, I feel mine was an invitation. Intense and delicate, clear and vague. Not a transformative moment, but an offer. A choice. Or so I thought.
Weeks went by, and I started to recover from my multiple injuries. The doors that opened in those sacred moments of the NDE and the luminous beauty calling from behind them frightened me a little less.
Being only a little less frightened still meant that the mere thought of accepting these realms and their healing energies, as more than a belief system, sent me hiding under my covers, or trying to keep myself busy with physiotherapy. It horrified me, threatening my sanity.
Yet, not exploring this invitation unsettled me just as much. I felt I was being offered a choice between entering the unknown or remaining trapped. I walked with a sense of knowing, and not wanting to know, what I did not even know yet.
Did I have a choice? Returning home, my blank journal called out to me for weeks, but I did not even pick up a pen. Then I wrote a few words. I sat to complain in my journal, pour my heart out, and validate my agony. However, the words that came forth were purely warm, accepting, enveloping, holding a promise of better days. These words were not mine, but emerged at the frequency of the heavenly LOVE I carried in my cells from the day of the car crash and NDE. Peaceful and accepting, leaving no room for any internal dialogue, racing thoughts, fears, or my inner critiques.
No. I did not want to hear Univers’s talk. Spirit’s talk. Or guidance to comfort me. All I wanted was to disappear. To drown in painless sleep, and fade into white clouds.
My self-talk and inner dialogues were a deafening noise. They were a fierce mental effort to connect the dots that could not reveal their relations without Universe’s input. I was not on my soul’s path, and my blabbering mind sustained the state it knew. A false feeling of sense-making, of what one cannot articulate with words. A fabricated sense of safety that kept me locked in a comfort zone, unaligned to who I am. My doubts in the divine and otherworldly, internalized so profoundly in the being that I walk in this lifetime, were trying their best to reclaim their control.
What was it that I was invited to become attentive to? And where did it come from? “Is it my voice talking?”; “These are not my words!” I would dismiss them with frustration. “Of course, you see it as a sign – you are actively looking for one,” were my thoughts. “Can that be? I must be losing my mind,” I often told myself. I repeatedly asked, checked, and questioned. The gap between my physical state and the promise within the comforting messages and words felt unbridgeable.
Doubt proved to be a blessing. It took me on a journey of self-referencing. Words now come down through my pen, or I feel I know something. Then, as soon as I feel the information wishing to be heard reaching me, I turn to the knowing of my heart. I sit quietly and observe what my body tells me. Am I expanding in response to this message? Is it slowing my breathing? I also question whether the message is mine. When we connect to the greater field around us, we must also learn to discern. Not everything we know is ours. We are one. Our choices always affect each other, and in parallel, each of us is blazing a unique path in our shared field.
It (Universe, Spirit, Guidance…) invited me to question every belief, habit, and behavior I walked with. The way I perceived others, my relationship with Earth, how I understood life, and every tiny aspect of my role as a parent, from the choice of my words to what I offer on our dinner table. I was invited to strip away the social concepts that I had internalized as part of my walk in this lifetime. To throw the dice, and let them land on at least six possible outcomes for each thought or question. To see and accept that there can be several interpretations for one exact moment. And from the many possibilities, to trust my knowing, which does not necessarily align with what others perceive.
I healed. I healed again. I thought I healed it all, to find further soul affinities, I wished to release from my field—the smoke of the smudging sage needed to reach every hidden corner of my being. The more I healed, the easier it became to find those sacred moments of stillness between my inhalation and exhalation. Within life. Throughout days full of human and parenting activity: cooking, washing dishes, trying to manage our shared family schedule, homeschooling, or walking our dogs. Through my heart and into the field we are all part of.
Universe’s talk is not in the messages. It is in the fulfillment of the promise. Our promise. The possible of our humanity. It is in the choice embedded within each of us. Not only to listen, but to walk. Walk our essence. Our true essence.
When I can tune into my heart and, through my heart, connect to the greater field, I can absorb the perspective, flow, images, signs, or words wishing to be weaved. No expectations. No attachment. No clear action I must take. Calm clarity. Any stress I felt moments earlier disappears. Everything becomes possible.
In the stillness that is also in motion, Universe’s talk is no longer only an outside voice, the whisper of the wind, or words coming down through my pen. The more I connect and am still, the more my mind has learned to hush the self-talk—both the blabbering and the efficient logical thinking. The more I walk as part of this great field, part of the ONE, the more Universe’s talk becomes part of my own core: attentive, guided, and knowing. Walking life whole and joyful, as I never knew before that we humans are capable of.
I enter stillness to find that listening within and tuning into my heart is parallel to listening to Universe itself—God resides in both. That the guidance of my heart corresponds to the guidance of many hearts. That Universe talks and manifests differently through each of us, and yet is the same. The deeper I walk my luminosity, the more I can see it in everyone around me. Each in their unique style, doing their best to walk the profound truth of the LOVE that we all are.
And as I walked, astounded by the beauty of the valley of stillness, the one situated just in between the hills of self-talk and the tall mountains of Universe itself, I realized that Universe’s talk is not in the messages. It is in the fulfillment of the promise. Our promise. The possible of our humanity. It is in the choice embedded within each of us. Not only to listen, but to walk. Walk our essence. Our true essence.
With each new breath I take, a new world of possibilities reveals itself. Awe and wonder. So utterly beautiful that the old stories of my childhood, who I thought I was, or the many “should be’s” that I internalized growing up, can be effortlessly left behind, and I can take another small step towards becoming.
When I am completely connected, becoming one, I disappear into luminous surroundings. My physical senses all calming down. No Earthly words can describe this transcendent tranquil feeling.
I have learned to trust my knowing, intuition, hunches, gut feeling, the wisdom of it all. I follow the messages brought by feathers, the sky’s signs, and the hummingbird sipping nectar from the lavender by my window while I write. The songs that play within my head at surprising moments, or the numbers appearing around me. I have stopped questioning them. They are all part of the communication with the unseen, and are meaningfully helpful when the daily noise is grabbing my attention.
I have learned to see beauty and God in the little things. The many shades of green in the fields and woods around my house, and the energies surrounding them. The child, walking among numerous others, her attention on the flock of birds soaring above. The tender care of a mother to her crying baby. Or the woman resting on the bench, ignoring the people rushing around, snuggling her dog on her lap.
And as my human self, I, too, must remind myself of the serene stillness and its promises, almost daily.
Walking life, guided by the whisper of Universe, is a blessing. I expand in gratitude merely thinking of the wondrous invitation I was offered. Grateful for overcoming resistance and for showing up, regardless of the many fears I carried. I am never alone, and for the most part, my self-talk is no longer a worrying voice, taking me away from myself. Instead, it is a guiding talk, helping me return to my center, my core, to ignite my flame, ground, and think, feel, and act aligned to who I am in my essence. Not perfect. Aligned. Trying. In motion. In waves. In the beauty of the journey.
Learn about my journey, and the insights it offers to parents in The Promise We Made: Three Universal Soul Promises We Made to Our Children 🙂
