Life is in the Leap

“If you try to comprehend air

before breathing it

you will die.”

~Mark Nepo

Six years ago, I was writing a book called Evolution to Happy. I felt secure in my knowledge that happy was a state of being and not just a town in Texas. I’d read the teachings of the Dalai Lama, Ekhart Tolle, and Paulo Coelho (and Erma Bombeck).

I’d experienced as much or more pain in my life as other women, as well as enough joy to form a solid understanding of life. I was consistently evolving, and certainly on a course to achieve spiritual, mental, and emotional transformation like a pro.

I was not.

My problem was exactly the things I thought made me qualified—experience and book learning. But I hadn’t done the inner work of processing and healing from the things I had lived through. I read books that inspired me, but I had never gone deep enough within asses, examine, and accept the damaged parts inside me. I had knowledge, but I didn’t let it see my real pain.

But I worked hard on a book in my mighty realm of denial, disfunction and disillusion. (yes, I said it out loud). I gathered and ground meaning from treasured writings of spiritual masters. Cerebralized divine signs and messages from my own life. I created mantras, wrote clever analogies, pippy paragraphs, and developed end-of-chapter exercises.

After months of rowing in my happy boat, typing and formatting thoughts, beliefs, and perspectives, I saved and closed the file permanently – something didn’t feel right.

Then life rose up like a Kraken in the middle of my sea of self-satisfaction and dragged me under a tidal wave of new lessons. You know why? Because I hadn’t healed any of my previous life trauma, shame, and anger, I had only buried it.

So, it figures, the new shit that rose up was more of the same shit, from the same and similar sources.

This time it demanded more than attention, the toll was awaken, leap, and adapt or die.

As dramatic as it sounds, this is a slow rolling drama and I am not finished with it yet. But what I have learned over the past several months is I am not alone. Because this time I am conscious. I am paying attention. I am working not to bury, not to pretend, but to allow myself to accept, lean into, and flow with real change.

In this period of my evolution or transformation, I see the world opening to me in ways I never imagined before. As if forces of the universe conspire to send signs to get my attention and prove I am on the right path.

This knowing, seeing signs, or receiving messages (through dreams) in advance of things happening is something I experienced from very early childhood, This ability started to fade after I married an atheist. When I denounced my belief in a higher power out of anger, my experiences nearly vanished completely.

An example of a poignant message came when I was pregnant with my first child. I was visited in a ‘dream’ by what I can only describe as an energy. It told me I would have three babies. This first would not live, the other two would. Months later, I delivered a daughter with the chromosome defect, Trisomy 13. She lived just a few days.

This story is relevant only in how it reflects the difference of my connection with something divine compared to my dedication to someone dark.

In 2023, life showed more than feral teeth but a wicked identity. I was forced to acknowledge what I’d ignored for decades. I had forced someone into a mold of potential, and raised them on the highest pedestal I could build. I repeatedly looked away when I glimpsed who they really were. Foolishly, I thought my blind trust and belief in them would make love real, and forever. By refusing to stand up and walk out, I gave up my power and dignity.

By 2024 I had no choice but to reclaim my connection with a higher power.

You might roll your eyes that I went crawling back to God for help, but yes I damn well did. If I hadn’t pivoted in an admittedly desperate state, I might not be writing this article now. I spent months trying to explain, rationalize, and seek help from people, organizations and the police. My pleas were met with shrugs, rejections, and wait times too long to match my immediate fears.

Two attempts at leaving only to return to the lion’s den forced me to listen and see, what I needed to do.

Divine or not, doesn’t matter – I had to wake the hell up and take action because people not helping me was started to look like their choice.

It became clear, I wasn’t going to be saved by anyone or anything external. I had to save myself. I had to quit talking, begging, and doubting – and finally leap without ‘examining the air’.

I hope you’ll do the same for yourself, if there comes a time. Get help if you can but also listen to your intuition and take a leap of faith.

Now I sit in the quiet of transformation, healing takes time, and life continues. If I do things right, stay true to myself, the evolution will be continuous for this mind, body, and spirit for years to come.

One thing is certain, I will never regret taking a leap for life.

Thank you for reading,

Anne