Pilgrimage to the Self
I’ve done some weird things in my life.
How weird?
Boundary-pushing, assumption-challenging weird.
I like to have my feet planted firmly on the ground. So I’ve never been interested in psychedelics — not judgement if you are.
But I like to explore. Travel into myself.
So I recently decided to have someone read my Akashic records.
The premise is that there is a library of souls — past, present and future — and those trained to read them, can pick yours out of the stacks and tell you about it.
Turning 60 opened a portal of sorts; a door to wisdom, a yearning to deepen my connection to my life purpose.
Opening my Akashic records was another way to get at this. So why not?
After an opening guided visualization and a prayer, my Akashic records reader told me he saw me in a place that was wind-swept and grey, cold place with cliffs on the ocean.
There, I was a healer. Okay, nothing too new there.
But in this wind-swept place, I set out looking for ways to end the suffering of my fellow humans. I did this over and over.
It was a pilgrimage.
I was alone, but everywhere I went, I was welcomed by strangers. “Generosity begets generosity,” my reader said.
I never wanted for food, shelter or other comforts.
The surprising part was not that I was a healer (that is what I have always been), but that I was a traveller, a nomad.
I do not (or at least did not) think of myself as a nomad. I love my home. I love my stuff.
Over a glass of wine a couple days later, I told a friend about this reading.
“The nomadic part surprised me,” I said. “I don’t feel like much of a nomad in this life, loving home the way I do.”
“Oh, but you ARE a nomad,” she said without hesitation. “You get along with all kinds of people. It’s like you’ve always known them, and they know you."
This is true. This curiosity about people is one of the reasons I was drawn to coaching.
By invitation, my clients invite me into their lives for a time. We walk through the stories of their lives, the stories that have defined them.
We look in closets and basements and attics of the soul; we take inventory, open boxes.
Coaching is a nomadic experience.
I love helping people come home to their true selves with all the magic and minutia, the sacred and the mundane our lives include.
Do I — or did I — believe in Akashic records?
Do I believe in past lives?
I guess I believe in anything that helps me live — fully, authentically, joyfully and purposefully — now.
I’m not sure if I would have ever considered myself a nomad before this reading.
Now I know: I am a nomad.
Knowing that makes me that much more available to life.
In what ways do you push boundaries? How do you explore?