Yesterday I had a tiny epiphany.

It was one of those transcendent moments of seeing something with greater clarity where your heart goes aha! and you know you’ve just had a bound of personal growth.

It happened in Kappa during a late afternoon walk by the ocean. I had run back to the car to grab something, and I was walking along the bike path trying to catch back up with my husband and our pup Frodo when all of the sudden I had a strong sense of all the times I’ve walked the same stretch of bike path the last few years.

It was as if each of those experiences moved through me, and I could vividly feel my emotional state of being at the time.

Three years of personal growth and spiritual lessons flashed before my eyes:

All the times I’d walked this path feeling optimistic. All the times I’d walked this path feeling lost. The many times I walked this path in confusion, wondering where my heart and spirit were leading me.

The bike path has literally supported and uplifted me during times I’ve silently raged, wept, agonized, hoped, seeked, and wandered through the uncharted territory of my life on Kauai afterI left the certitude of my Alaskan old life in 2017 for the unknown terrain of Kauai.

The journey has traveled me into deeper authenticity and soul growth in ways I never expected.

Suffice it to say, it’s been a helluva few years, and I’ve come to understand that the heart of the universe has its own strange alchemy of gifting us the experiences we truly need to become the person we are meant to be.

I didn’t realize when I fully committed my heart to my Kauai journey that I was setting into motion a domino effect.

I didn’t realize when I said yes to life, yes to my heart, yes to the deep calling in my soul, that I would begin to pull in all the situations, experiences, and growth opportunities necessary to loosen and lose my old identity, take me through a process of deep metamorphosis, and help me emerge with a new set of wings grown from faith, fortitude, and perseverance.

As I talked about in my previous post, I sense those new wings will soon be put to use. But for now, while May is still lingering and June is just coming into reach, I’ve been in an space of syntheses.

It feels like twilight— the time just before dawn when it’s no longer night but not quite day either.

It is a nebulous space somewhere in between that has me feeling like I’m standing in a doorway, soon to cross a threshold.

The difference between who I am now and who I was two years ago, and even six months ago, is that I’ve learned to have more trust, patience and grace in the nebula.

I spent the first few years on this island with a lot of angst. I wanted to know what the plan was, why spirit had called me there, and who I was going to be.

I kept waiting for the big “this it is!” moment that would help me see my bigger picture. But the big moment never came, and I’d eventually realize I was getting ahead of myself and missing out on the present moment. So, I’d try to bring myself back to a space of presence, patience and trust, but I would soon return to the emotional and mental struggle of needing to know.

I did my best to embrace the gifts of day, but it was rare for me to fully transcend the question of my own becoming and fully savor the moment.

I suppose it’s inevitable that I felt this way. I gave up almost every piece of my old life and old identity to follow my heart and intuition to this island. I put a lot on the line, including my career and my livelihood, and with the stakes that high— of course I yearned for something concrete, so I could reestablish a sense of certitude in my life.

And of course it doesn’t work like that! I wasn’t given a guarantee or blueprint, I was simply asked to trust.

I once wrote that faith is keeping vision in the absent of sight, and my faith has been put to the test more times than I can count on this island.

This time last year I was about to go through another spiritual initiation and shamanic death of ego. I was about to undertake a rite of passage that would strip me of my old ideas and attachments to success, money and my professional identity.

I was going to be asked to keep trusting what was in my heart (i.e. that I would successfully manifest the dreams of my heart)— even when surface conditions appeared to contradict that truth (i.e. I was completely broke on an island and felt totally lost).

It was a difficult time. I spent a lot of time crying, shouting at spirit in my car, stressing over finances and creating new work opportunities, and wondering if I’d made a giant mistake, missed the boat and screwed up my life by coming here.

There’s more to that story, but you’ll have to wait for Revelations of The Sky to come out in order to read it. :) For today I will just say—

Through that death of self something new begin to spring up—

I came to deeply respect the journey I’d undertaken and that deep respect made me fearless and reignited my vision of teaching others to live intuitively, follow their hearts and dream their world into being.

As fall came around I began to integrate the lessons I learned, and I began to see a bigger pattern at work. I began to see I truly was supported and guided. I began to see that when we go through a struggle that forces us to grow beyond an outdated version of self, the process is what gives us the ingredients we need for something new to be born.

I learned to trust the process in even bigger ways, and though things haven’t all been peachy ever since, I do know that spirit has my back, and I can absolutely trust the divine timing of my unique journey.

Which brings me back to last night’s tiny epiphany as I was walking on the trail, feeling the last three years flash before my eyes, and reflecting on all the growth.

I tipped my face to the sky, received the late day sun and sea tinged breeze, and I felt a sense of presence and acceptance for exactly where I’m at.

I imagined sending golden rays of light back to my younger selves. I imagined the gold energy traveling through time, finding my prior incarnations, and blessing them with a soft blanket of love, grace and unconditional acceptance.

I imagined the essence of my voice being carried in that golden energy and lending gentle guidance and affirmation to younger me:

“Savor the struggle. Relish the grappling. Find the beauty in your brokenness. You will never repeat these experiences. You will never have a first year on the island again. Or a second year. Or a third.

This time has been a gift my dear one. I know you might not see it that way until you are standing where I am now.

I understand maybe that’s just how it has to be since life is lived moving forwards, but understood in reverse.

But as best as you can— savor the struggle. For it is only through undergoing the process of struggling that you are going to create the ingredients you need for transformation.”

The late day sun shone down. I see Eric and Frodo standing out in the ocean on a pile of enormous black lava rocks, and I thoughtfully begin to walk out to join them.

Noticing my heart feels more light than it has in a long time.

If you enjoyed reading this post, you might enjoy the second book in my Lamentations Trilogy, Transformations of The Sun, which tells the story of my spiritual journey, moving to Kauai, and my first year on the island.

Also stay tuned to my monthly newsletter Intuitive YOU for updates on the conclusion of my trilogy, Revelations of The Sky (coming in late 2020).