“We are all connected; To each other, biologically. To the earth, chemically. To the rest of the universe atomically.” – Neil deGrasse Tyson, American Astrophysicist
Before I get started, I want to make an amend. A few blogs ago, (Letter From Sedona: The Great White Dog) I wrote about the Shaman’s Cave in Sedona, Arizona and used a beautiful photograph:
It was taken by a photographic artist named Bill Caldwell. Trouble is, I didn’t give him credit for it. He evidently found my blog, found his photo, and wrote to me. (If you want to see more of his work, visit his web site at www.abeautifulsky.com.)
Bill lives in Arizona, near Sedona. I wrote back, told him I would give him credit in my next blog. (Here we are, and thank you, Bill.) I asked him if he knew Clay, the shaman whose soul searching gift I discovered the first time I went to Sedona. No, he said, since he had moved to Arizona from the East about a year ago. The next note I got from Bill was telling me he had found Clay and had scheduled a retreat with him. So now, I am connected to Bill and Bill is connected to Clay.
That reminded me of two other connections. My acupuncturist and meditation teacher, David, lived on the same street I lived on in Washington, D.C. In the seventies. When I lived there. In the next block. We probably passed each other more than once. We didn’t actually meet until last year, when both of us were living on the Eastern Shore of Maryland.
Clay lived in Germantown, a section of Philadelphia. When I lived there. In the sixties. We might have passed each other on the street. We didn’t meet until 2009, in Sedona, Arizona.
Both of these beautiful human beings changed my life. They have a bit of magic about them. They have helped me heal in so many ways. They have given generously of their wisdom, increasing my own. How is it we came so close to one another in years past, but never stopped to speak, never met? I’m sure it was because I was not ready. Neither were they. We all had to live a little longer, learn a lot more.
There is a saying, “When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.” I can believe that. It is how my book came to be written. I was at the lowest point in my life when I made another improbable connection. In desperation, I reached deeply into a realm of consciousness I did not know existed, and a teacher appeared. His name was Lukhamen. He, too, changed my life. He told me his story and gave me hope and a reason to live. Our paths had crossed before, Lukhamen’s and mine. The first time was in Egypt, two hundred years after the death of Christ. When he came as a Spirit Guide to be my teacher, it was in Washington, D.C. some seventeen hundred years later.
Some connections just take a bit longer. They may require a little more faith, and the willingness to accept things we cannot prove. But our teachers are there. When we are ready.
Read The Messenger: The Improbable Story of a Grieving Mother and a Spirit Guide by Helen Delaney.
Click here to find it: www.Amazon.com