A Spirtual Awakening
I remember having spiritual experiences as a child and being told they were nothing more than a bad dream. I knew the difference- my dreams were plenty of what I conceived to be as “bad” at that time. The shadow-like figure in my doorway, the melody of a wooden flute being played in the middle of the night, the knowing — that I was never truly alone, that was not a dream.
As an adult, I have understood that even the “bad” dreams were full of symbolism and messages from greater sources. My soul was speaking to me while my human consciousness was at rest. My soul was fighting for my body to heal, even to give me a heads-up about what was ahead. The wisdom of my soul, my highest self, was just as wise when I was a child as it is now.
Though I love my family dearly, I was not raised in a place where new or old-aged spirituality was explored. I have come to understand that this was something I needed to find on my own; I was never one to learn from others words or experiences, I had no choice but to figure it out on my own. I was, however, raised to believe in something greater than myself. Though I do not follow suit with what I was raised to believe, having the knowledge of a power greater than myself allowed me to see the ways that it worked in my life and the lives of those around me.
What this soul needed to find awakening, like many others, was pain. Pain that is great enough to make you want to give up. Pain great enough to stay on the sinking ship and just let go. I’ve spent many years now contemplating the situations that have brought me pain, trauma, and sorrow. I spent more time than I would like to admit on the sinking ship, just waiting for it to finally go down. I always felt like something was missing, or maybe something was just wrong with me. I believed I was born with an innate loneliness and a tendency to be a failure; not good enough for anything or anyone. I never felt a part of social circles or in the family. Truly believing that I was alone, and bending myself to be like the others I was around so that for once I could feel whole. It never worked, and I never felt whole. I forced myself to talk like, dress like, and act like others, just to be accepted. Never facing the reality that all I needed to find was what it was like to be me.
With these feelings lingering for as long as I can remember, it is not a surprise to turn to the next chapter and find myself indulging in dangerous activities, alcohol, drugs, and anything else that took me outside of my body, and outside of my pain for just a moment. I could write a book alone on the years of drug abuse and dereliction that I put myself through trying to escape the feeling I had inside of me, but for now, we won’t linger there. I will put it simply- for all of my high school years and into early adulthood, my main path was escapism and I used drugs, and other people to do it. Even in this time, I always had something deep inside me telling me that I did not belong in that place- that there was something much much greater waiting for me on the other side. After several rehabs, detoxes, and attempts to reconcile my addiction without ever truly facing the reality of my life, I finally had enough. At 21 years old, I entered a detox facility and began a journey that I thought was just to be a productive member of society. To live a decent life- maybe meet a nice man and have a few kids. I just wanted to be a decent person. What I have found in the 8 years since then is far, far greater.
From my childhood experiences, I always knew that I was gifted. But, to be honest, I always covered it up by saying I must just be crazy. Making sure that I didn’t tell people out of fear that I would be told I was crazy, or even worse- that I was going to go to hell. I lived in a faith-based recovery housing program, in which I was required to participate in a bible study weekly and attend church on Sundays. Church music always made me cry- this rise in emotion would make me feel like I was in the right place. I strived to understand the bible, and I tried to force myself to believe in all the things that were said. I always struggled with the idea that we had it all figured out, we knew exactly what to do, what to not do, and where we were going after we died pending our use of 7 little words, “Jesus, please forgive me for my Sins”. As discussed earlier, I always wanted to fit in, and I just wanted to do what I thought made me a good person. The socially acceptable white woman in America. So I said those words, I did the bible studies, I went to the church, I told everyone I believed. I hid my questions.
When I had about 6 months clean, it was becoming harder to hide my questions and doubts. I remember asking the bible study teacher, “What if I don’t really believe?”. She told me all I had to do was say I did. This made me feel even more confused.
And then, I experienced my first loss of a friend to an accidental overdose. An experience that I have had more times than I would like to count over the last 8 years. This changed things for me in some odd way. I remember asking that same bible study teacher, “So, what if a 12-year-old kid who was never raised to believe in Christianity gets ahold of his parent’s drugs, accidentally overdoses, and dies, he goes to hell for all of eternity?” She had a very simple answer, “yes”. That was the first time I cared less about a social norm and listened to my soul. She was wrong.
From that evening at Bible Study class, I started to open my mind to a different belief system or even create my own. I had an interest in crystals, and always researched Tarot cards, and spell work, too afraid to do anything out of fear I may be cursed by the all-mighty Christian God, and burn in hell for all of eternity, too. Until one day, the right people at the right time changed my outlook on everything.
I had just over a year clean. Some of the women from the 12-step program I am a part of began having a monthly get-together. In the world of recovery, we call individuals with more “clean time” than us predecessors. Predecessors are there to show us the way- how to stay clean one day at a time. The two predecessors at these gatherings with the most recovery time were the best of friends. I looked up to them, and I trusted them. I remember learning that one was Wiccan and one followed Native American traditions. Through the years of their friendship, they had learned from each other and formed many joint belief systems and practices. This made me look up to them even more- they were not afraid to be who they were and openly believed what they believed. One of the women brought a deck of cards to one of our gatherings. It was an Oracle deck handmade by a Native American tribe, wrapped in what looked to be animal skin cloth. She taught me a technique to pull a card that was meant for me. I will never forget feeling the energy in my hands pulling me to the card, like a rubber band between my hand and exactly what I needed that night.
From that night, and that first card, it all changed. For the first time, I did not question a belief, because I had truly felt it. The woman who taught me how to use my energy to pull cards is still in my life today, teaching me, and inspiring me to be my true self. Sadly, the other passed away a few years back due to complications from a motorcycle accident. She spent many years of her life pulling both women and men out of the depths of addiction and giving them a place to feel at home. She had a beautiful mothering nature in that way, even though she was as tough as nails and never held back the truth. She never had any biological children, but she was a mother to many, including myself. She is one of the reasons I am alive to tell this story today.
Not long after that night, I absolutely HAD to get my hands on an oracle deck of my very own. I went to a local Metaphysical shop and found the perfect deck just for me. It was a Native American Oracle deck, using Native American symbolism and tradition to carry messages of guidance. I honor and cherish this deck to this day for the initiations it brought me to my spiritual practice. From that point on, I continued collecting oracle decks, crystals, and much more. I continued learning and trying to understand what was beyond this physical plane we live in.
In the midst of this, I found a healthy relationship, helped to care for my eldest niece, and continued my recovery. I began to work within Sober living houses, working my way from a driver to managing multiple houses, and every chance I got I would bring in some oracle cards, and teach the ladies living in the houses who were interested the same techniques that had been taught to me.
After several years of working in the Sober living houses, I was overseeing 5 houses, and managing all the staff and residents. I was burnt out from focusing so deeply on the women who lived in the houses, the staff, and all the drama that came with it. I started to know it was time to move on to something else, and out of fear of losing my recovery in the process of trying to save others, I found a job that was similar, but no longer working with people in addiction. I put in my notice of resignation about 2 months in advance so that there was ample time for my replacement to be hired and trained. I was just praying to make it out of that position without any more chaos. In the last week of my employment, the worst chaos imaginable happened. We lost someone I loved very dearly, whom for the purpose of privacy, I will refer to as ‘Willow’.
It was the middle of the night on a Saturday, and I was asleep in my bed with my now husband. I woke up to banging on my windows and doors. My husband rushed out of bed to see who was at the door, and his phone began to ring. When I looked at the phone, I saw that it was my best friend, one of my employees at the time. I look down at my phone, and I see texts and numerous phone calls. Before I can even read them, I call my best friend back. She said, “It’s Willow. They just took her out in an ambulance, and she wasn’t breathing”. Amidst this, my husband is yelling to me that it’s another one of my employees at the door. I come out and tell her I’m coming; I’m right behind her. So I throw on some clothes and rush out the door. I remember getting in my car and having this sick feeling come over me like something heavy was on my back. I felt nothing but sheer terror. the next 15 minutes was a drive I will never forget. Heading to our largest Sober living home, with all of my residents and staff waiting for me. Waiting for me to arrive as if there was something I could do.
Willow and I went way back, back to the rehab I was in when I was 21. As I stayed clean she struggled and came back and forth into recovery programs. She had over a year clean this time, she was employed, and she was the person in charge of the house overnight. One of the other residents came to her room after arriving home from work to get their medications, and that is how she was found. Shortly after I arrived, we stood in the parking lot in silence, waiting for the detective to come back from the hospital and let us know if she had made it. We all knew what had happened, she had relapsed. The police officers arrived at the house and before they came to speak to us, they began to search her vehicle. They found drug paraphernalia right away. They next found a journal and I heard the detective say “Wow, she was really talented”. It was then I knew she was gone. I was the only one who overheard what he said, and I kept silent, hoping that maybe I was wrong. A few moments later the detective approached us and let us know that she did not make it.
My best friend and I headed to the hospital. I received another call from one of my nearest and dearest friends who was at the hospital waiting, that they had just been informed that she was gone. We arrived at the hospital, and we were swiftly taken into a small room with our other residents and staff to find them distraught and heartbroken. We were allowed to go and see her if we wished. I never liked being present with dead bodies, but I went back anyway. I remember walking back through the rooms of the ER and approaching the glass doors of the trauma room her body was lying in. We entered, and she still had the mask used for rescue breathing strapped to her face. Other than that, she looked like she was sleeping. My best friend very quickly approached her body, rubbed her face, and cried. I stood in the corner of the room, consumed by terror. I remember just staring at her, waiting for her to sit up. She never sat up, and I never got any closer.
Walking away from that trauma room, I couldn’t cry. The feeling of something heavy and terrifying on my back consumed me even more. After this experience, I could not shake that feeling, especially at night. I would have panic attacks while driving alone at night, thinking that something was on my back, or in my back seat. I insisted it wasn’t her- she would not have scared me the way this energy did. What I would come to find out much later, is that this was the way my body perceived intangible energy. This is the way it felt when I was connecting to someone who experienced an overdose death.
It is pivotal to speak about this death of ‘Willow’ in my experience of spiritual awakening. It brought me such a deep amount of fear of death that it pushed me out of my comfort zone in many ways. The last week of my employment was consumed by all of the things that came along with a resident dying while in her sober living home. I had to ignore my feelings and do all of the things that were necessary to be done in the wake of this event.
I started my new job, and after about 4 weeks, I quickly realized this was not where I was meant to be. I knew that I did not want to be in a place where I was exhausted and unhappy, and Willow would not want that for me, either. So, I took a leap of faith. Things had fallen into place in the strange universal way that they do. I had some money saved, I had a supportive boyfriend and a reputation for being a very good cleaning lady.
I have cleaned hotels, businesses, and friends’ houses on the side since I was 15. I decided I would start my own business. I started my business with one bi-weekly home cleaning and a part-time cleaning gig for another small local company. It very quickly grew, and I was able to become a full-time cleaner, and even hire some help. In the wake of Willow’s passing, I dug deeper into recovery and learned more and more about spirituality. Still struck with fear, the sheer terror eventually faded. But the fear of death had not.
Just under a year had gone by, and things were going well in business. I was able to hire help and mostly run my business from home. By this time, I had been trying to get pregnant for a year or two with no luck. I remember being afraid that something was wrong with me. I had several false pregnancies, which were like torture. I finally went to the doctor to get some answers, and the answers were not at all what I was looking for. I found out that I had something called a ‘Unicornuite Uterus, ’ which basically means my uterus did not fully form while I was in the uterine. This mainly affected my fallopian tubes, making my left fallopian tube not viable. What made this news even worse was my right tube was clogged, making it impossible to get pregnant naturally. While knowing that modern medicine is advanced and there are options for people like me, this news crushed me to my core. It felt like I had been given a death sentence. I was heartbroken, and truthfully, I wanted to die.
In May of that year, just 11 months after Willow’s passing, I received another call from my best friend. Our old boss and one of my biggest mentors had suddenly passed away. He left behind a beautiful wife and baby boy, and I could not fathom why, out of all people, the world lost him. This death was something I can only describe as a freak of nature event, and his death felt different than Willow’s. Even though it felt different, the fear of death was reinstalled.
I was at my breaking point. I remember sitting in my sunroom and feeling like he was trying to talk to me. Telling me over and over to go see his wife. I had been in contact with her, but we had never been close prior to this. So I felt like I was crazy. How was I supposed to explain to his wife that he was sending me to her? So I held off, looking for some sort of confirmation that I wasn’t crazy — hoping that it would all just go away.
I found myself in that same metaphysical shop where I bought my first deck of oracle cards. I had a routine every time I went in the shop, first browsing the cards, then the crystal room, making my way to the section of incense. The owner knew my routine, and by the time I would make it to the incense he would kindly come over and ask if I needed help with anything. I remember first telling him no, and then hesitantly asking if he knew of a legit Medium. I’m pretty sure my words to him were “I’m either going crazy, or dead people are talking to me”. He told me he knew just the person to help. I followed him to the counter, and he gave me a business card of an individual he knew personally. He told me that she could help me.
A few weeks went by before I had the guts to contact this woman. I set up a consultation call and planned to tell her I just wanted to know if dead people were talking to me. By the time I got on that call, I said much more than that. I expressed my fear of death that I only knew what I didn’t believe but had no idea what I did believe in. I was afraid all the time and that I wanted children so badly and was so heartbroken by the news I had received. I even told her about the intense flashbacks of sexual trauma that I had been having since finding out about my fertility. She told me she thought we should schedule a Reiki session so that we could discuss things in more depth and she could try and give me some answers.
I arrived at that Reiki session with no idea what was about to uncover in my life. The journey that day would throw me into. I didn’t know anything about Reiki, or energy work in general. But it made sense to me, being that I could feel the energy from cards and crystals in my hands. I didn’t care too much about the experience, I just wanted it to help me.
I must have talked this woman’s ear off for an hour before we started. With no idea of what was to come, I laid on the massage table, closed my eyes, and tried to go into a meditative state. She moved over my body with a pendulum and I could already feel the energy moving. I felt energy moving so intensely throughout the whole session that I could no longer deny that all of this may be really was real. The entirety of the session was intense and undeniably amazing. For days after I was puzzled with questions. My third eye was so open that my psychic and mystic experiences intensified more than I knew were possible. I have not had a flash back since that day. I still struggled with feeling as though I was going crazy.
In the midst of this new awakening, I found such a passion for our energetic bodies and learning about energy work in general. I aspired to be just like the woman who provided me with that Reiki session. I met with her weekly, digging deep into trauma and energetically releasing the binds that had been attached to my body for so long. As I dug deeper into this process of awakening, more people who were also awakened started to enter my life. People that I had known for years started to open up about their experiences to me, allowing me to learn from them and find a better understanding of what I believed and what else I wanted to learn. I found many mentors and spirtual teachers who have changed my life, including energy workers, friends, Authors, Yoga teachers, trance channelers, and more. That Reiki session was the beginning of opening myself up to who I truly am.
For the last several years since that Reiki session, I have dedicated myself to learning about spirituality and healing. Since this time, I have studied and received certifications in Usui Shiki Rhyo Reiki, Usui Holy Fire Reiki, Sound Healing, Herbalism, spiritual coaching, and Intuitive Rebirth, and I studied and practiced in many other areas, including Shamanism/Shamanic Healing, Sacred Geometry, Angelic Healing, Mediumship, The law of attraction, EFT Tapping, Yoga, Dreams, Astral Projection, Meditation, Breathwork, and so much more.
I could go on and on about my personal healing and learning to overcome some of my deepest fears and regrets. What is most important to note is that in this process of spiritual awakening, I, at some point, lost my desire to be like others. I mentioned above that after my first Reiki session, I wanted to be just like the practitioner. Though she is well respected and a phenomenal practitioner, I had to learn that I did not want to be just like her. I wanted to be just like Lacey. I found my own areas of interest that differ from some of my friends and mentors. I found my own niches and things that interest me. My own spirit guides and ascended masters to work with. I found my own clients, my own healing, and my own daily processes to help me be a better me and be more connected to my source. Facing obstacles that brought me to ego death has been pivotal. Understanding that the pain of my addiction, all the pain I self-inflicted, the trauma caused by others, and even the pain of a deformed uterus were a necessity for me to find this awakening. I needed to be brought to my knees for me to find this way of life, to see outside of the 3D box we live in, and to seek the truth. Today, I am grateful for all of the times I wanted to die- These experiences brought me to a place where I now know what it is like to live.
This journey continues as I learn, grow, and heal. My journey has led me to an understanding that the only person who can heal me is myself- I must believe in order to receive or to let go. All that I need is already within me. And All that you need, is already within you. I look forward to my next bout of awakening, as it is sure to bring me closer to the source, and closer to heaven on earth, which I can only find within.
