I’ll be honest, I’m a little nervous about starting this. I have procrastinated to the point my Divine helpers are about to get the 2x4’s out, lol! This blog is more or less the story of my awakening…
So I guess I need to start at the beginning. I didn’t realize the beginning meant the beginning of this lifetime, lol. I was born in Orlando, Fl. under the sign of Cancer (now Gemini). My folks unknowingly gave me 2 warrior names to go with my warrior last name. Apparently I had changed my mind about coming here because I almost died right after birth. The doctors didn’t get all the mucus out and I got an extended stay in ICU, where I apparently decided I would stay and do what I came here to do.
When I was a kid I always “knew” things. I knew when my grandpa went into the hospital. I knew when one of my close friend drowned when we were 7. I’d even just know about some big event on the news before it happened. Whenever I told my parents they would look at me funny and tell me I was weird or making it up. Sometimes they’d tell me not to say anything about it. Most of the time they’d just ignore it. It wasn't that they didn't care, they just didn't want to believe I could know things like that and they did not know how to handle it.
I never realized I was different from most kids until my friend Paul died. He was a good friend, lived 2 doors down from us. He had snuck out to go swimming and slipped on a rock and hit his head. His family thought he was in his room since he was on restriction. I don’t think they ever forgave themselves. Anyway, my mom and I were on our way home and I saw and ambulance turning at the stop sign in front of us. I screamed “Mom it’s Paul he’s dying!”. She tried to calm me down and tell me it wasn’t, but I KNEW. When we got home Paul’s dad and brother were on their way to the hospital and quickly told my mom what happened. We went inside and while later the phone rang to tell us he didn’t make it. I knew because he came to color with me one last time before he crossed. When we went to the funeral, I asked my friends if they had talked to him before he crossed, and they looked at me as if I were strange. That was when I learned that sharing things like that was bad, so, I quit talking about it.
When I was little I used to have really vivid dreams. Many of them were of dark pagan rituals. In the dreams I would fly out of the house and meet with a group of kids I never knew in my waking time. They were physical beings while I was traveling in my light body. Three of the boys were brothers and their father was the leader (priest) in the ritual. I would always “jump” into the younger one to protect him from the abuse perpetrated during these rituals. His spirit was in there too, it was like I was his shield. This went on into my early teens. I could never remember the “dreams” sometimes I would remember bits and pieces of it, but my mind blocked most of it. It seems as though it was always in a grove or orchard. They would feed us something that looked like poop on a cracker (yes poop). It had to have been some type of hallucinogen. There was always a man dressed as the pagan god Pan who was making us eat it. That was the one thing I always remembered. Sometimes I told my parents about it, but of course they blew it off as my wild imagination. Around the age of 14 it seems, the dreams ceased. Around that time,I met a boy who became a very close friend. He would give me a massage while we were skipping gym (not actual cutting, just "forgetting" to bring gym uniforms). I didn‘t realize at the time, but he was actually performing a healing and cleansing on me to remove the energies of my night sojourns. He would always start talking to me kind of low as he worked, friends sitting around us could never hear what was being said and would ask me, but I had no recollection. I just remember feeling so much lighter and joyful afterward.Not to mention the nightmares ending.
Throughout my schooling I took creative writing courses. I loved to write! Especially short stories. In elementary school I would go into my room and talk to my invisible friends (my family always said I talked to myself ;) Then I would just start writing these fantastic highly detailed stories. I actually saw myself as the main character, living that story, almost as though it was just a memory. I realize now, of course, it was a memory of a past life.
While I did continue to have some psychic weirdness moments in high school, they started fading out, or I stopped paying attention. I guess that’s around the time most of us Indigos were programmed to the best of societies’ ability.
So I guess I need to start at the beginning. I didn’t realize the beginning meant the beginning of this lifetime, lol. I was born in Orlando, Fl. under the sign of Cancer (now Gemini). My folks unknowingly gave me 2 warrior names to go with my warrior last name. Apparently I had changed my mind about coming here because I almost died right after birth. The doctors didn’t get all the mucus out and I got an extended stay in ICU, where I apparently decided I would stay and do what I came here to do.
When I was a kid I always “knew” things. I knew when my grandpa went into the hospital. I knew when one of my close friend drowned when we were 7. I’d even just know about some big event on the news before it happened. Whenever I told my parents they would look at me funny and tell me I was weird or making it up. Sometimes they’d tell me not to say anything about it. Most of the time they’d just ignore it. It wasn't that they didn't care, they just didn't want to believe I could know things like that and they did not know how to handle it.
I never realized I was different from most kids until my friend Paul died. He was a good friend, lived 2 doors down from us. He had snuck out to go swimming and slipped on a rock and hit his head. His family thought he was in his room since he was on restriction. I don’t think they ever forgave themselves. Anyway, my mom and I were on our way home and I saw and ambulance turning at the stop sign in front of us. I screamed “Mom it’s Paul he’s dying!”. She tried to calm me down and tell me it wasn’t, but I KNEW. When we got home Paul’s dad and brother were on their way to the hospital and quickly told my mom what happened. We went inside and while later the phone rang to tell us he didn’t make it. I knew because he came to color with me one last time before he crossed. When we went to the funeral, I asked my friends if they had talked to him before he crossed, and they looked at me as if I were strange. That was when I learned that sharing things like that was bad, so, I quit talking about it.
When I was little I used to have really vivid dreams. Many of them were of dark pagan rituals. In the dreams I would fly out of the house and meet with a group of kids I never knew in my waking time. They were physical beings while I was traveling in my light body. Three of the boys were brothers and their father was the leader (priest) in the ritual. I would always “jump” into the younger one to protect him from the abuse perpetrated during these rituals. His spirit was in there too, it was like I was his shield. This went on into my early teens. I could never remember the “dreams” sometimes I would remember bits and pieces of it, but my mind blocked most of it. It seems as though it was always in a grove or orchard. They would feed us something that looked like poop on a cracker (yes poop). It had to have been some type of hallucinogen. There was always a man dressed as the pagan god Pan who was making us eat it. That was the one thing I always remembered. Sometimes I told my parents about it, but of course they blew it off as my wild imagination. Around the age of 14 it seems, the dreams ceased. Around that time,I met a boy who became a very close friend. He would give me a massage while we were skipping gym (not actual cutting, just "forgetting" to bring gym uniforms). I didn‘t realize at the time, but he was actually performing a healing and cleansing on me to remove the energies of my night sojourns. He would always start talking to me kind of low as he worked, friends sitting around us could never hear what was being said and would ask me, but I had no recollection. I just remember feeling so much lighter and joyful afterward.Not to mention the nightmares ending.
Throughout my schooling I took creative writing courses. I loved to write! Especially short stories. In elementary school I would go into my room and talk to my invisible friends (my family always said I talked to myself ;) Then I would just start writing these fantastic highly detailed stories. I actually saw myself as the main character, living that story, almost as though it was just a memory. I realize now, of course, it was a memory of a past life.
While I did continue to have some psychic weirdness moments in high school, they started fading out, or I stopped paying attention. I guess that’s around the time most of us Indigos were programmed to the best of societies’ ability.
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