I stand now at the threshold of a new adventure, and like any path worth traveling, it is well guarded by two dragons, one on each side of the door. These dragons are terrifying. In fact, they are fear itself. They represent my internal obstacles, the limitations of my conscious personality, wanting to prevent me from expanding and realizing my potential. They are a symbol of my shadow, which I feel called to traverse now, because I know that what I want to do is worth it. This cage is getting too small.
For almost a year now, I have wanted to start this project: writing a series of letters in which I share the things I am discovering on my spiritual journey.
It all began with an epiphany at the age of 21 that left no doubt in my mind, as an atheist existentialist skeptic, that there was a divinity and that reality is made of love. That seed did not immediately germinate, and I went through some dark years. The pandemic was the catalyst that reconnected me with that internal reality, and since then, it has been non-stop, a metamorphosis at all levels that has led me to leap into another paradigm where life is lived and perceived differently. From the limited to the infinite, from prose to poetry, from nothing to everything, from struggle to rest, from fear to love.Â
There is more peace, more clarity in my thinking, and power in my actions, more love and harmony in my relationships, more inspiration in my creative exploration, more beauty in my perception of the world, and more joy, which has no cause, it simply is, like the joy of dogs enjoying their mere existence while playing in the park.
I have been telling friends and family about what I am experiencing for some time. But now, I feel that I must share in writing and publicly everything I am discovering and living. Joy always wants to be shared. Immediately, this desire has brought forth all kinds of fears and insecurities. But the internal pressure grows and grows, and I know it will not yield to my shadows. There is a sense of inevitability; it is something the Universe wants me to do.
Let me tell you about today’s mystery, so you understand why I say this.
Yesterday I discovered a man named Jim Rohn, who, among other things, dedicated himself to teaching others how to achieve financial independence. Today I started listening to an audiobook of his called “How to Have the Best Year Ever.” One of the first things he mentions, without a clear connection to finance at first, is how Jesus, in delivering his Sermon on the Mount, was aware that some people would laugh at Him, others would mock, and others would not understand at all. And that was the case. But He also knew that there would be a few who would understand, and it was them to whom He spoke. He didn’t try to tailor His message to avoid negative reactions. He said what He had to say.
This resonated with me and made me smile as I walked (Jim is pretty funny), but I didn’t truly understand it at the time.
When I came back home, while going up the stairs, I suddenly felt attacked by a bunch of fears and insecurities that wanted to prevent me from writing this letter and all the ones that will follow. They made me doubt once again. It was the fear of being judged as crazy, as pretentious, the fear that no one would understand or believe me. Fear, ultimately, of being vulnerable. Fear, also, maybe, of becoming all that I can be.
A while later, while meditating, I suddenly reached a very deep place, and there, this prayer sprang from nowhere:
“Lord Jesus Christ, I invoke your presence. Help me carry out this project, for I have neither the strength nor sufficient courage. Be the wind that propels me through all challenges. Guide my actions and words so they will come from You and go towards You. Amen.”
At that moment, an incredibly powerful current of energy traversed me from the base of the spine to the head, straightening my body with an unstoppable force and yet with exquisite subtlety and gentleness. I laughed as I felt that current opening its way through my entire body, flooding me with vitality. I had asked for wind, but I received lightning.
After that current subsided, I sat down to write, but immediately a silent fear invaded me, and I ended up cleaning my computer’s desktop, organising my Google Drive, and even updating my whole operating system. My computer was unusable for an hour. Advanced evasion tactics, indeed.
A few hours later, I meditated again.
This time, what appeared in my internal world with tremendous clarity was that this is part of the plan that God has for me, and my only mission on this planet is to accept my part. Out of nowhere, a voice emerged: “I accept my role in Your plan.”
Another bolt of lightning illuminated my nervous system and, with it, Jim Rohn’s talk came back to my mind. I stopped meditating and searched my bookshelf for the Bible I had from my school days and hadn’t opened in years. I saw that it still had a bookmark, and I opened to that page. I read the first line, and it said “The Beatitudes.” It was the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount. I must have left the bookmark there years ago, in preparation for this moment.
I then felt an unspeakable peace. I began to read, and these passages resonated in me like an organ of light:
Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you, and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
And this:
You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead, they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.
After reading this, I closed the book. Dylan was in front of me, growling with a ball in his mouth, asking me to play with him, but it was like he was behind a veil, or in a dream. I was behind, in another space, wider and clearer, as if in the company of angels. The next thing that happened was that I wrote all of this.
And the dragons? This time there was no trace of them. Perhaps they were obliterated by the lightning. Or maybe I saw them before because I was looking at my shadow, the one I project when I look in the opposite direction of the light. Today I turned around and looked towards the light. And there, the path was clear. So, with this letter, a smile, and an unstoppable wind filling my open sails, I begin to walk.
A.
