“You are the one who is divinely inspired to be the one to take the drawings to the world.” My mission came through Alma, from her Source of guidance, Aba, in 1972. At twenty-five I did not realize the implications; now, forty years later, I understand.
My past lies behind me like a long convoluted road through a jungle of experiences. When once I dreaded thinking about all the mistakes and all the pain I went through as I traveled, today I can look upon its landscape as a series of rather unique gifts…much to my surprise.
After the wedding, the new job began effortlessly and even felt as if it was somehow meant to be. I quickly connected with Gloria, the clinic nurse, a woman in her late thirties and a single parent of a teenaged daughter. We realized early on that we had many things in common, not the least of which was the difficult job of being a single parent.
Life had started sliding down hill at thirteen when I was propositioned by a male member of my immediate family. I started my very long working career at fourteen, and was raped that same year; an old man flashed me on the beach at fifteen; and I had my first big crush, an unrequited love, at sixteen.
It was 1980, and I had just married my second husband, who happened to be an atheist. I was attending a church in town and had enrolled my eight-year old son into their school. It was an enrollment requirement that at least one of the parents attend the church. And in the beginning, I was happy to comply.
Off we went to the mainland. I have always loved change, so I soon moved on to other things in the big city, not the least of which was my first boyfriend. The guys we hung around with were all Catholic. This would be my first introduction to organized religion. Could I have imagined the depth of its meaning?
Life was good. In his hay day, Boo ran The Boat House that sat next door to the Shady Rest on the beachfront in Qualicum. I can still smell the French fries and vinegar, their scent tantalizing my grumbling stomach after a full day of swimming and playing in the sun.
We weren’t perfect, but we certainly had fun. Summers were spent lounging on the porch of the old log house, dressing up and playing in the shed or enjoying a day at the beach. We played cards and Yahtzee, drank iced tea and listened through the heat as the sound of the bees zipped in and around us and then slipped away.
Every summer when I was a child was spent with my grandparents in Qualicum Beach, a small, quaint town on the East Coast of Vancouver Island in Canada. Their magical log home, missing square corners and fancy furnishings, was named ‘The Buss Stop’ …by me. This is why.
In 1989, my path took a radical shift in direction. The day I witnessed my mother’s Spirit leave her body gave me a powerful incentive for finding a better way to do my own life. What has happened since has been nothing short of Divine Guidance. These are excerpts from that journey.