In the mid 60s, I had a dream one early morning in which I was listening to a voice reading a book, a mystery which was so deliciously interesting it was like dining on the finest food. I listened in rapt fascination as the delightful words poured over me. Then my awareness took a click and I was no longer simply listening and enjoying the way the words were put together. I was observing myself listening. Then another click. I was talking to myself about what I was hearing. I was saying, "If I can just remember this, I can write these words down and have a wonderful book." Another click: I'm awake. I remember listening to it, but not one word had come through, except my last statement, "If I can just remember."
However, I had something more important to learn. When I mulled it over, I knew, that is to say, I had a knowing at the molecular level, with every fiber of my being, that I would write a book. I had never thought about writing; I had no idea what it would be about. I simply knew I would do it. I wasn't even very curious--most unlike me. I knew whatever this book was to be about had not yet happened to me, but it would and then I would write. Ordinarily, I'd be scouting around trying to explore this idea, but there was no need. I did not have to make it happen, it would happen, it was already mine. I peacefully let it go.
But it didn't let me go. The realization of knowing one thing triggered a landslide. It began to dawn on me, as I took my own inventory, that nothing else I thought I knew about my life, my relationships, my religion, etc, had that quality. I believed a lot of stuff, I hoped, thought, wished, dreamed, assumed, took for granted many things. I only really knew one thing. And that one thing made no sense in the context of my life. And yet it was like a calm, peaceful, pristine lake residing within me. The fact that it absolutely needed no backup rationale made me believe that this is how truth feels. It also established for me, once and for all, that I was not just living a life of isolated events. I was on some kind of a journey.
I did eventually have the experience I knew was mine already and I did write that book: Paulji: A Memoir, the story of my meeting, studying and working for and with my mentor, the unique and amazing spiritual teacher, Paul Twitchell. As Dr. Seuss wrote, "Oh, the Places You'll Go!" An astrologer friend told me while I was in the exact center of my predicted "event" that what I was doing at this time was my old work; the skills, talents and understandings I came in here with. She said that my new work, my true purpose or dharma, would be from my home, and my own spiritual base. I didn't believe her. This work I was doing, I came here to do. I knew that. Like a magic carpet, my life had literally flown in that direction. I didn't believe her, but I also never forgot she said it. That should have been it. I taught, wrote, traveled the world, lectured and counseled for many years. Paul passed away, I wrote my book. And yet, at times I would be vaguely haunted by the big question in the living room: Why am I here? Which, by then, had morphed into: Why am I still here?
I had been studying astrology for over twenty-five years and I found myself using it to help people see some of their as yet locked up potential and to help ease them through some of their difficult, but astrologically predictable, challenges. The question in my own living room hovered there for a long time. My interactions with people and their charts led me to see how valuable a clue one particular chart aspect is to "Why am I here?" I was doing well in helping others understand why they were here, but I wondered about when I would actually be doing my own "new work."
I considered all the chaos in the world, the confusion and trials that are a part of this time in history. It is a time which can send many of us to our spiritual centers. It is what dynamics like these are about. For a long time now we have placed our well-being in the hands of outsiders: governments, banks, stock markets, doctors, lawyers, newsmakers and religions. Very few of us have not been burned. But I do believe these challenging cycles have purpose for us. They detach us from the outside distractions and send us deep into ourselves. We can begin to tap into powers, abilities and understandings that we can only access when we come from soul. Then our orientation switches: I do not have a soul. I have a body. And today, the advice from my old astrologer became real to me along with the understanding that I have been engaged in my dharma work for a long time without realizing it and I have now agreed that it's time consciously to move into this new phase.
I have begun making myself openly available to folks who are searching for their own power points. My path is to further the understanding that there is far more untapped potential in each of us than we usually bring to the game and our plan can begin to clearly unfold for us. More often than not, it's an exciting surprise. I truly believe the Universe needs us to be doing this for Its own purposes too.
Patti Simpson's new work is called Soul Journey Research and she can be reached about it at souljourneyresearch@gmail.com