Fifty thousand miles of Spirit-Guided Miracles & Magic
I go to seek a Great Perhaps. ~ François Rabelais
Wherever you go becomes a part of you somehow. ~ Anita Desai
The past twelve months have been the most daunting, miraculous, heart-breaking, inspiring, exhilarating and exhausting. They have left me a to-the-marrow tired that I’ve never could have imagined when I chose to create this journey 14 months ago by making myself homeless. What began as a knowing that I needed to move has morphed into a dance with the unknown that sates my soul, makes my heart bleed, and recreates me with each breath.
A year ago I was recovering from following a vision that took me from Virginia into Connecticut and preparing to help my best friend move from New Jersey to Seattle. I had no idea then what both of those trips were preparing me for. Although the vision that took me to meet Laura and Doug was not my first, it was the first that provided clear direction to go. Not just anywhere, but to go with clear direction–guided by a street sign–even if I didn’t understand the purpose behind that direction. Following it, though, taught me to listen to guidance from the invisible and become a willing & active participant in the magic of the universe.
That listening was not accompanied with trust. A must, yes. A knowing that saying no was not an option. But, trust? I only started to learn trust after meeting a dead Pat Kennedy while sitting in a Seattle hotel room. Visitations from non-breathing people were not new to me in January. I had just not experienced taking direction from one. But this? This direction, without a street sign, was clear, full of purpose and passion for my engagement. Not with my eyes closed in the wee hours of the morning but all-eyes open, with living company and the TV going. I was being sent to Big Sky country, in February, to provide intercession between the land where blood was shed 144 years ago and the Blackfeet Nation. That singular act has spilled into a much larger process of weaving lost healers with their tribes and stitching those tribes together around the globe.
What I know today, I did not know in February. As participant and observer watching the mechanisms for the work fall into place around me I knew only my ‘job’ in it’s discreet sense and that I had made a distinct choice to engage with all things cosmic in a unique fashion. Going to the mountains of Montana deepened my sense of knowing, reminded me of the complexities of people and my reliance on the same. Invisible hands held mine during white outs, pleas and demands for help were met with signs of universal partnership and the scars across the face of men. That journey, though, in no way prepared me for what was to occur in the desert five months later or the experiences that spanned those weeks in between.
From February through September, the most common experience people had while with me were either visions of and conversation with Jesus or the experience of a crucifixion and resurrection. Each woman (for men, the energetic transference appeared in a slightly different fashion) who experienced the phenomena is of a different faith or espouses a non-belief in Jesus or Christian teachings. From devout Christian, to the lover of Jesus who isn’t Christian and the avowed atheist, to Hindu seeker and Buddhist practitioner. Each either felt their palms being pierced or bore witness to the crucifixion and shared the resurrection through that of their own rebirth or interpretation of seeing ‘a large thing, like a stone, moving away to create something like a light at the end of a dark space’. Feeling hips shift as if giving literal rebirth to themselves or recognizing the capacity to take this awakening experience into a change for their own life–over and over again.
I thought that pattern would continue when I traveled from California to Las Vegas the first time. However, a Hindu Goddess made a visit instead as my relationship with the Navajo Nation began. A simple question during one session has morphed into a greater vision of reconnection and reemergence of ancients. From a “who is the Native presence” to “I’m here to take you home”continues to evolve into a string of future homecomings.
While in Las Vegas this past June, I met a man’s ex-wife during a healing session and interrupted proceeding when I felt a distinct Navajo presence. Three weeks later I flew back to Las Vegas from Virginia, met that man for the first time and said, “I’ve been known by many names over many lifetimes. This time I go by Ingrid and I am here to take you home.” And he said, “Okay.” Just like that, the world changed.
While driving into Arizona with this no-longer-a-stranger less than twenty-four hours later, I wondered what would happen if I was just wrong. Good, old fashioned wrong. What would it be like saying to this man who’d placed his future in my hands if I had to say, “Oops! I obviously didn’t know what I was talking about when I said I was here to take you home”? That moved as quickly out of my head as it entered it. I just knew. I knew that as I listened, observed and coached reconnection would be made. And I asked silently over and over again to be seen, recognized, welcomed and supported. And we were. Within thirty-six hours and three conversations with two women selling jewelry, mother and child, medicine man and tribe, were reunited. That reunification was compounded by my own reconnection with ancient energies in the Tuba City Kentucky Fried Chicken in an experience so profound that I was certain I would die in the parking lot.
I didn’t die then but between July and a resurrection of sorts (again) in October, I met the Peruvian, Apache, Mayan, Choctaw, Maori, and another Polynesian healers and magic-makers that will be reunited with their tribes in the coming two years. And more are waiting to be discovered. They will be taking me on the weaving journey to Australia, Mexico, Peru, Scandinavia, Mongolia, China, Guatemala and Indonesia sooner rather than later.
My own rediscovery of self has included the loss thereof, the emergence of a knack for channeling & mediumship, teaching and mentoring the generation behind me so that they may lead their cohorts. Moving through the world in this way brings me to people, places and situations that present their own unique challenges. Being homeless and more broke than not isn’t easy. Living in the manner that many appear to strive for but cannot understand makes for uncomfortable encounters and heartbreak. The highs brought by spontaneous remission of disease, extraordinary lightness of being, and revolutionary shifts is accompanied by lows so deep they seem impossible to emerge from. The complexities of the human psyche combined with living in this expression of the universe–as a being connected intimately with both mystery of cosmos and the chaos of the earth–often appears as a spasmodic ballet. Torsion and tension physically, mentally and emotionally create syncopated rhythm as participant and partners make their way through the ether.
There is a mistaken notion that as I travel I’m merely on walkabout, adrift with the wind, being blown hither and yon for the thrill of it. Each venture into the unknown is full of purpose and there is a pointed focus of energies and attention–whether it is to repair the earth, release centuries of despair, provide healing for veterans, answer the spiritual or telephone call for help , create the opportunity for rebirth, bridge people through time, or offer succor to those violently moved into another space, this is a guided journey that utilizes every strength and all senses, all of the time.
Those internal and external partnered senses allow me to be open to ‘see’ visions without interpretation, interpret situations with clarity and also recognize when I need help in doing so. They allow me to understand that when, in November, a Navajo War God sends me to a place I circled on a map the previous July, there is meaning behind the obvious and links to something much larger than self, than god, than any previous expectations. And, when a god of any persuasion says “go and do”, what am I going to do? Say no?
When I began this journey in February, I shared with some frequency that I was reading braille, as if moving after with clear direction but without knowing the distinct purpose and feeling my way through to it. The purpose has become quite clear and was brought home on October 27 in such a fashion that I will never feel blind or doubt my capacity again.
As my relationship with ancients & their peoples from around the globe deepens to help create a new paradigm for this millennium, and as I move from a stubborn reliance of my own knowing into a trusting relationship with the seen and unseen around me, the unfolding of our path and unveiling of our truth continues with grace and deep gratitude for those who create safe harbor for this sojourner and love her however she shows up.