March 2001

My sister invited me to the Denver Metaphysical Fair on St. Patrick's Day weekend. Her Spiritual Counselor was there and on a whim I signed up for a reading. When I sat down she asked me if there was anything in particular I wanted to know and I answered that anything she wanted to tell me was fine. Most of what she said I have forgotten, but I do remember her telling me that I had a healthy aura with lots of pink in it. As I got up to leave she said, "You know you are a more spiritual person that you think you are."
I was surprised. "I am? I don't feel that I am."
She nodded, "Well, you are and it's alright that you don't (know that you are)."

That weekend I also went to a bookstore and browsed the metaphysical section. I was checking out the books the way I usually do, which is letting my eyes wander over the titles and stopping at anything that popped out at me. This time I felt sure that there was a book that I needed to buy, although I wasn't sure what it was, and after my I did my usual scan, I went back to the first book on the top shelf and started looking at each title very carefully. I reached the last book on the bottom shelf without finding whatever I was looking for. As I stood up to leave, I noticed there was one more book pushed back between what I though was the last book on the shelf and the wall. I reached in with two fingers and worked the book out. It was titled, Mandala Coloring Book and contained geometric designs, on each page, that you colored. This was it. This was the book I was looking for.

On my way home I bought a set of colored pencils and a pencil sharpener. That night I picked out a design and started coloring. As a kid I loved to color. I loved deciding what color to use, the way the color magically flowed across the paper filling in the space, and the feeling of satisfaction I had when I finished a picture. When I started coloring that night I felt like I was taking a long cool drink after a lengthy time without water. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed coloring. After that night, I colored at least one design a day until I left for Europe.

Must Begin With A Single Step

February 2001

It started like this. I was babysitting the books at the town library one afternoon and it was so slow I picked up a magazine to read. In the magazine was an article about Shirley MacLaine. In this article Ms. MacLaine talked about her pilgrimage to Santiago, the Camino, and the book she had written about her experiences. I was reading this with detached interest when I turned to the second page of the article and glanced down at the bottom of the page. There was a map of Spain with the Pilgrimage route marked on it. The moment I saw this map, the world around me seem to pause, and I felt myself surrounded in a cocoon of stillness. I thought, "I know this.", which made no sense because I had never heard of the Pilgrimage or of the Camino nor had I seen a map of the route until a second before. The next instant I thought, "I'm going to do this.", and then I realized that the stillness I was feeling wasn't around me but inside me. It was a feeling of calmness and peace like I had never experienced before. I felt as if a door had opened, a door that I had been waiting to open, and that I was being invited to come inside.

I slammed that door shut so hard and fast, the sound of it still reverberates in my head today. I was frightened. The idea of going to Spain was ludicrous. There was no way I was going to run off to Spain. The idea was ridiculous. Why would I do this? I'm not a religious person.It was insane. Normal people do not run off to Spain to walk across it.It was unthinkable. I was not that spiritual a person.
It was undoable. There was no way I could afford to do this.

So, I tried to ignore the whole thing, but the idea was like a pot of chili simmering away on the stove in the kitchen. No matter where you are in the house, you can smell the fragrance of the chili cooking.