Growing up, and even into my early adulthood, I don’t ever remember asking myself, “Why am I here? What’s my purpose? What’s the meaning of Life?”. Just never really came up for me. I’ve never been a dreamer. I never had aspirations. Just never has been my nature. I didn’t dream of my wedding day like most little girls. Or a big fancy house to live in. Or what I wanted to be when I grew up. I was asked the question, I’m sure, when I was 7 years old or thereabouts, and probably gave a placating answer with a cute 7 year old smile. But things just are how they are for me. At least that’s how it always was. Now I’m starting to wonder.
I feel like I made it through some obstacles and came out standing up and holding on to my belief structure, or lack there of, really. I come from a family densely populated with Christians. Every corner you look in, you’ll find them. And not even the hypocritical Easter once a year variety. I’m talking the every Sunday No-Matter-What kind of Christians.
As a free-thinking adult, I am quite grateful to my mother for not forcing the religion down my throat. I was allowed to pick where and when I went to church. I never felt forced. If you ask my momma though, she’ll say she “failed me” in that regard, which makes me sad because it’s one of the things I’m so appreciative of. So, throughout my adolescence I did attend a Methodist church (I am now a recovering Methodist). I’m looking around and everyone else seemed to be getting something I just wasn’t getting. I’m a determined person, so if there was a bible study, I was there. If there was a choir to sing in, I was there. If there was a mission trip to take, yup, I was there. After a while, I felt like I had as much information as I needed to gather. Then I looked around and just thought,
“Really? You people are buying this?”.
And that was pretty much the end of that. I just don’t buy it. Believe what you want to believe. Really. It’s fine with me. I encourage you to find your own personal truth. I’m not a real faith-based gal. I need some tangible proof, folks. Some man on a pulpit reading me things from the perspective of some other man I have no connection with didn’t sit well with me. He’s telling me I just have to take his word for it and it won’t be proven until I’m dead? I personally believe that the reason a lot of the ghosts hanging around are doing so because they believed in the judgment they would face at the time of their death and are simply scared to death (pardon the pun) to continue on their journey. It never sounded like something I wanted to do.
Like I said, that was pretty much the end of that for me.
The point is, I didn’t cave. I was strong enough to make the decision based on the information provided to me and stand by it. There has to be purpose for that, right? Otherwise, I’d be sitting in a pew with my Nanny on Sundays. Nothing would make her happier. But I feel like that is not included in my purpose. I have other things to do with my spiritual energies.
Then I look back over the past few years and I notice that things seemed to fall into place for me to accept and develop this ability. I moved into a haunted house, possibly, the most haunted house ever. Seriously, it’s crazy over here. (I’ll be telling you some more about that later on). I began to meet some like-minded, or at least open-minded people that allowed me to open up about this little by little. My son came along and became the “why” that tipped the scales. The pieces just fell into place in a way that the Universe might as well have been screaming directions/suggestions/intentions at me at the top of her lungs. I guess I’m dense. I’m on the right road now though. Got it, Universe! Got it.
There must be a purpose, right?
Now the questions come…
Why am I here?
Why can I do the things I can do?
Why this place? This time? These people?
And as time goes on, I keep running into other little side abilities I have (another story for another time…it’s coming…I promise). Every time I bump into one of those additional abilities, it just creates more questions. This cannot be a random thing. I do not believe in a god, but I do believe in a spirit and a soul and things most people cannot see. I can see them. It’s all the proof I need.
What am I supposed to do with this?
What is my purpose?
That’s the question I’m determined to answer. It may take the rest of my life, but I’m pretty tenacious. Stick with me on my journey. There’s always room for one more. Maybe we can help each other along the way.
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