Brenda's Bicycles

 

On this beautiful Saturday morning, a refreshing breeze is gracing the plaza. The relentless humidity seems to have subsided somewhat and I momentarily feel a slight chill on my lightly browned suntanned skin; how wonderful the feeling.

 

My attention is captured by a few diligent workers assembling a small stage in the plaza, directly opposite the gazebo where I am sitting with my bare feet up on the wall.

 

Tomorrow night, on this very stage, five local singers will compete in the finals of the “Canto Por Mi Patria” (I sing for my country) contest. By sheer luck, I accidentally stumbled across the preliminary competition last Sunday evening as I was searching for the missing band in the plaza. Soon, I found several hundred people gathered under the large Mexican flag, across the street near the water. A feeling of sheer delight radiated within as I witnessed the small home-town version of American Idol. The winner of tomorrow night’s final will proudly sing in next week’s Mexican Independence Day festivities.

 

Today marks the second time I have attempted to write these words. Last weekend I spent three frustrating hours before calling it quits. I was not satisfied with my writing—my thoughts felt impersonal and preachy. But now, with a little humility thrown into the mix, I feel like maybe, just maybe, I can give this topic another go around.

 

In my writing, I frequently refer to my internal voices and/or guides. These same inner voices are guiding me to make an attempt at explaining myself.

 

Perhaps to some, I may appear a bit schizophrenic—especially with all my talk about hearing voices and placing blind faith in my intuitions. Others may wonder just ‘how is it’ that I hear and/or feel these voices. To be honest, I sometimes even wonder myself. But one thing is absolutely certain—I completely trust these voices with my life and my destiny.

 

There are many times in my life when these voices have been so incredibly clear that ignoring them would be utterly impossible. Such experiences are extremely powerful life changing events. Intuition dictates that I will yet be sharing a few examples of such profound events in my words today.

 

On other occasions, my guides are so quiet and discrete that considerable internal silence, trust and faith are required to even detect the voices at all. But as I reach the silence, a small familiar peaceful loving feeling lets me know that “yes, I am definitely still connected.”

 

Then there are the times where physical and emotional exhaustion get the better of me. Occasionally, my soul is so disconnected that I dream of just running away, returning to a normal and safe traditional life. But even in these deepest states of disconnect, powerful internal passions tell me that there is no going back. Deep loving spiritual memories of past experiences pick me up again and propel me forward.

 

As I write these words, I am again whisked back to my Monday morning crashing-airplane dream­. As you may recall, at the finale of the dream, I leaned over to my former wife and said the words “I don’t want to go back (referring to Cozumel), but I know I’m supposed to be there, and I am going.”

 

I think I finally appreciate the full meaning of that dream. Even facing the fears of my “seemingly-stable-world” crashing down all around me, I know in my heart that everything is perfect—exactly as it should be. No emergency crews or ambulances need to be called out. There is no doubt that I am exactly where I need to be. Tears swell in my eyes as I ponder these words. While my ego would love to have a few more clues about the future, my soul continues to say “relax in peace, joy, love, and gratitude … all will unfold in its time.”

 

To make the record clear, I am not aware of ever having actually heard a discernable, audible voice from any invisible source. I am unable to conjure up a single memory, occurring in normal waking life, where my physical ears have ever heard such a mystical voice speaking out of the ether. I believe that such things do indeed happen, and I have listened intently to personal accounts shared by others—but such physical hearing has not, as of yet, been an occurrence in my own life.

 

So why then do I keep referring to these voices—and when and how exactly do I hear them?

 

First of all, I want to emphasize that I am not talking about religion here. Having been raised in a deeply religious environment, I grew up with absolutely no concept of the difference between spirituality and religion. I simply assumed that the two were inseparably joined at the hip.

 

Just six years ago, I finally realized that “I can be deeply spiritual—having a deep internal connection with my divine source—outside the boundaries of any type of religious affiliation whatsoever.”

 

Today, I hold no judgment—good or bad—toward any religion. I am fascinated by various beliefs and rituals—yet my heart tells me to permanently align myself with none of them. And that brings me right back to my voices.

 

Perhaps, for the purpose of example, it would be helpful to briefly share a few profound and undeniable experiences that continue to shape my life. The first happened almost four years ago. In that era I was still fearfully engaged in my career as a computer software engineer. In my early years I had derived great pleasure from my accomplishments, and was actually extremely talented at the work I performed. I brought home big bucks, enjoyed a very comfortable lifestyle, and was very content with the growth path that my life was following.

 

Perhaps you picked up on my “fearfully engaged” comment above. In the previous few years, I began to experience a feeling of deep dissatisfaction with my employer, the work I was doing, and the software engineering field in general. I felt deeply trapped in my career, yet I was terrified to consider anything else. I thought I needed the money to survive. Along with my comfortable lifestyle came big financial obligations, the largest of which was continued alimony payments to my former spouse.

 

It was late autumn of 2005. After tiredly enduring a long work day, I was eagerly driving my red Jeep out of the company parking lot, totally clueless about what was about to occur. As I steered my trusty little jeep down the freeway on-ramp, a profound and powerful feeling overwhelmed my entire body.

 

“You’re going back to school to get a masters degree in counseling,” was a powerful thought that boldly emblazoned itself into my heart. Somehow, at a profoundly deep internal level I suddenly and absolutely “knew” this inaudible voice to be true.

 

“Hell no, I’m not!” I exclaimed in sheer terror. “I can’t do that … I have bills to pay … I’m too old … I cannot go back to school at age 52 … my life is comfortable and stable … there is no way!”

 

The whole concept of starting over—giving up my security blanket—literally horrified me. My future was supposed to be predictable and comfortable. I had earned that right.

 

Immediately, gushing tears began streaming down my cheeks as I violently resisted the “knowing” that was pulsing through my soul. Thirty seconds later, my eyes were so filled with tears that I was forced to pull over and park in the emergency lane. I could hardly see the freeway through the flood that was pouring out from my water-logged eyelids.

 

Anxiety-filled resistance dominated my life for about five days. I could not sleep, experienced almost continuous nausea, and was plagued by tight throbbing pounding knots in my abdomen. My physical state resembled that of a firmly entrenched panic attack.

 

Finally, I stopped resisting and began using the internet to research masters programs. Almost immediately, an amazing feeling of calm peace settled into my body. Within two days I was meeting with an admissions counselor at a well-known after-hours university program. Peace and excitement accompanied the signing of papers as I eagerly committed myself to start over as a student in January of 2006.

 

The rest is history. Difficult times were ahead, but I was filled with passion and peace as I plodded through three and a half years of life-consuming homework, research papers, learning team projects, countless hours of reading long boring textbooks, and completing my 1000 hour internship.

 

Two years into my program, after over 29 years of programming, I was unexpectedly laid off. Joyfully, I embraced the experience as a blessing, realizing this was just another way for the universe to gently help me safely finish my transformation process. Again, a deep and peaceful sense of strong inner “knowing” let me know that it was not in my cards to return to software engineering. That phase of my life was over.

 

In early April of this year, just four and a half months ago, I began to ponder, “Just what am I going to do with my life when I finish this degree.” Travelling the world and writing a blog was the furthest thing from my mind—in fact it was not even on the radar scope.

 

I began to meditate and ponder the possibilities. “If I were to eliminate all of the external chatter of the world around me, exactly what would my heart tell me to do right now.”

 

Recording my thoughts in my journal, I let them gel for a day or two. One thing was clear—I felt driven to write and engage in a small amount of travel—but I was still very much caught up in the idea of pursuing licensure as a traditional mental health counselor.

 

Out of the blue, I awoke early on a Saturday morning with clear memories of an incredibly strange and extremely vivid dream.

 

I was in a small comfortable living space. A sense of awareness let me know that I lived in this space. Sitting on my bed in one corner of the “L-shaped” room, I was suddenly aware of a man moving his belongings into the other end. My first instinct was to immediately question “why is this man moving his stuff into my room?” But before I did so, a sense of peace settled into my heart with the simple acceptance of the fact that, “He is moving in for a while.”

 

After a lull in my awareness, I suddenly raised my eyes to the ceiling and was shocked to discover that my entire ceiling was covered by upside-down bicycles, hanging from hooks.

 

Feeling a sense of indignation I called out to the man “You’re not going to leave those there are you?”

 

Again, acceptance quickly overwhelmed me and I peacefully let the issue drop. A strong awareness that “all is well” flooded through my being.

 

Moments later, my eyes were drawn to the floor. Right before my toes was a crumpled up wad of tangled string. “Pick that up and throw it away,” seemed like the obvious thing I needed to do.

 

Bending over, I grabbed the string and began to lift it. As my fingers reached a few inches above the floor, a loud “Buzzzzttttt” sound startled me. The unnerving sound came from within the crumpled string. Fear momentarily caused me to release my grip. “Wow, that must be some large fly,” I thought to myself.

 

Feeling determined, even laughing at my fear, I regained my composure and bent over to try again. This time the “Buzzzttttt” sound was twice as loud, and I felt a burst of air coming from what I believed to be the wings of two large flies. Again, a startled fear caused me to let go.

 

“I’m throwing that away,” I told myself as I bent over for the third time—only to have the same thing happen yet again. This time I recognized that the noise was actually coming from four large honey bees.

 

Again and again, I attempted to pick up the string—each time dropping it in fear as the number of bees seemed to be doubling with each effort. Next there were eight, then sixteen. Too many to count, I simply had an internal intuition that the numbers were doubling with each attempt.

 

Soon, the entire string was crawling with bees, covered in beeswax and saturated with honey—and I was frightened to pick the string up by my fingers. Grabbing a nearby screwdriver, I placed the tip under the sticky mess. Feeling proud of my resourcefulness, I successfully lifted the string into the air.

 

As I began walking down a hall toward the front door, the bees began climbing onto my fingers. Fear momentarily gripped me before a calm memory surfaced “I used to work with bees as a teenager … they will not sting me unless I provoke them.”

 

Peacefully, I arrived at the front door, opened the latch, and flung the bees out into the nothingness that was my front yard. Turning around, as I pulled the door closed behind me, I glanced up.

 

There, sitting on a small sofa directly in front of me was my son, dressed in a dark black suit. I didn’t see her, but a distinct awareness flashed into my mind: “His fiancé is sitting right beside him.”

 

Almost as if on cue, I woke up, and began to immediately scribble down everything I could remember. While writing, the memories flowed with incredible ease and clarity.

 

When I began writing today, I had no intention of sharing the full details of this dream—but this now feels so appropriate. Such vivid dreams have been quite rare in my past, and this one seemed extraordinarily significant—only I had no clue how to interpret the symbolism.

 

Through meditation, discussions with spiritual friends, and looking things up in dream books—the meaning filtered rapidly into a powerful state of “knowing” in my heart. The man in my dream was one of my spiritual guides. He was moving into my space with the intention of being more available to help me. Each of the bicycles on my ceiling was a different color, representing potential spiritual journeys—journeys that I was free to choose and experience. My guide would help me select an appropriate next choice.

 

“Throwing out the string” represented letting go of the bonds that tied me down to my present life commitments. “The swarm of bees” signified the busywork of day-to-day life, and the many community groups that seem to occupy all of my spare time. It was clear to me: “Now is the time to let go of all this—and to move on with my first bicycle ride.”

 

Fear was also a significant part of the dream. In the end, I moved beyond the fear and threw it out the front door along with the bees and the string.

 

The incident with my son seemed to be completely out of place. At the time, he was indeed dating a young woman, but as far as I knew he was a long way from being engaged. About a month later, my heart formed a huge internal smile when my son excitedly called to let me know, “I’m engaged to be married … I asked her last night … we’re getting married on August 15^th.”

 

Within days after this powerful dream, a series of synchronous seemingly-external events cemented a profound sense of “knowing” to settle into my soul. I had no doubt that as soon as I completed my degree, I would put all of my remaining belongings into storage, purchase a one-way ticket to Cozumel, and step into the unknown.

 

Actually, I still have no firm idea why I am here in Cozumel. A strong sense of “knowing” tells me I have several reasons such as: learning to live in the moment—undoing the ego—more completely letting go of my old identity—learning the language and culture—and writing about my journey. While I may not have any idea where these voices are taking me, I feel a need to clearly restate that “I completely trust these voices with my life and my destiny.”

 

So if I don’t actually hear audible voices, exactly what do I hear? To be truthful, I cannot honestly tell you. My spiritual friend David Hoffmeister once described his own voices as a strong sense of knowing accompanied by a subtle confirming “tickle in his heart.”

 

This description comes very close to how I would describe it. I can be anywhere, doing just about anything, and something might suddenly cross into my awareness. Almost immediately, the thought is powerfully accompanied by a deep energizing feeling in my heart. Somehow, in some inexplicable way, I know the thought to be true. Often, the feeling is accompanied by tingling sensations running up and down my spine, or goose bumps all over my body—but usually I simply know the truth in my heart.

 

Occasionally, the experience is brought on by a vivid dream—but more often than not it flows from every day life. A message on a billboard, songs on the radio, a conversation with a friend (or even a total stranger), motivational speakers, books, and powerful memory flashes—all of these (and other things) have triggered profound spiritual “knowings” in my life.

 

The common denominator is that, no matter how the thought is initially triggered, a deep sense of internal aliveness and feeling of truth accompanies the thought as it is literally jerked into my consciousness.

 

Originally, I ignored such experiences a pure silliness—until the powerful life-changing ones began to shake up my life and capture my attention. Gradually, as I fine tuned my spiritual connectedness, I began to increasingly recognize and trust the feelings. Every time that I have surrendered to such feelings—but only 100% of the time—the experience has led me to incredible peace, joy, and personal growth. Not once have I ever regretted trusting these instincts.

 

A powerful lesson I have learned is that my own body is a very sensitive barometer indicating my state of spiritual connectedness. When I sense an energized feeling of quiet internal peace and joy, I know that I am on track. As signals of tiredness, exhaustion, anxiousness, and fear begin to sink their claws into my body, I recognize that I am headed in the wrong direction. In such cases (which are still quite common), I realize I am simply not tuned in to my voices.

 

The ultimate dilemma is that when feeling fearful, sad, depressed, anxious, or lonely—the last thing I instinctively want to do is focus on reconnecting spiritually. Instead, my ego and pride encourage me to wallow in a pity-party of these negative emotions. Somehow I am deceived into believing that I deserve to spend some down time, miserably enjoying these ‘woe-is-me’ blahs. While I am in the middle of it, this whole negative-energy experience seems to somehow provide me with a new identity.

 

Luckily for me, I have been blessed with some incredible therapy experiences along my healing path, and nowadays I rarely succumb to these emotions. Yes, I still trip over many of them—quite often in fact. But when I do slip and fall, my recovery time is usually a matter of minutes or hours—rarely extending beyond a day. In past times, such emotional bombshells would have sent me to the pity-farm for months on end.

 

I was shocked on Thursday—as I meditated among the palms—by just how much fear and paralysis surfaced into my awareness. While spiritual experiences, and living in a state of loving peace seem to now be a common experience in my life—I see that I am still holding back, resisting, clinging to the safety of my past ways.

 

While I long to experience a more intimate spiritual connection with divinity—I see myself shying away when I get too close. One minute I bask in the energetic joy of spiritual aliveness, only to find myself quickly moving to slightly safer territory—subconsciously avoiding the unknown.

 

Yes, it is indeed my light that most frightens me. Profoundly life-changing spiritual experiences have shaped my present path, yet I seem to be secretly terrified of connecting more deeply to that light within me—a light that is within each of us.

 

Case in point—my sunrise bicycle ride on Thursday was an incredible energizing spiritual feast—but yesterday I retreated back into hesitation. It started innocently with, “My body is tired … I deserve a day of rest.” Soon, I began to spiral backward into the same mind-numbing world of avoidance.

 

It was a beautiful email from my dear friend Erma—an email filled with pure love and gratitude—that brought me back to the world of the living. Her supporting words were exactly the remedy I needed to jumpstart my soul—to pull me back out of lazy complacency.

 

Lately, my friend Trish seems to consistently email out messages that perfectly hit the spot. This one was no exception.

 

“It doesn’t matter who you were 20 years ago.

It doesn’t matter who you were 10 years ago.

It doesn’t matter who you were yesterday.

What matters is who you Are…now.

 

You are not a product of your past.

You Are…Divine, perfect and whole –

always, and in always.”

 

 -Archangel Michael

 

As I pondered these words, the message for me was quite obvious. It matters not if I had a deep spiritual experience four years ago, or even yesterday.

 

What truly matters is who I am right now, today, in this present moment. Nothing else matters—for “now” is all there ever is.

 

What a simple thought.

 

Copyright © 2009 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved