It does not require many words to speak the truth.
-Chief Joseph, NEZ PERCE

There are certain truths in my life that I’ve been sitting on for over a year.

I’ve hinted at them, I’ve brushed on them in my writing, I got a little brave when I was in Kauai back in February and began to tell my story. But it was only a small slice of truth when compared to the whole; I wasn’t quite sure how to share it, and I don’t think I was yet in a space in life where I had the room to fully own it.

I have found though, with only a handful of days left in the state, that I am now ready, that I need to cross that ocean to Kauai feeling like a whole person and owning myself on a larger scale.

So this piece is simply about truth. My truth.

And my reflection that when our personal truths don’t fall under the normal realm of experience, they are usually subject to rejection, disbelief, or pointing a finger at the person and calling them crazy, just because their experience of life doesn’t match up with what somebody else has been taught, values, believes, thinks they know.

And those that carry those truths are often tasked, when the time is right, to shrug off what others may think and speak them anyways.

My truth is that I started hearing from my brother on the other side a few days after he passed. Specific messages for mom and dad; specific messages for me; I learned to differentiate between what was him and what was simply my mind wandering and reaching and imagining.

My truth is that though I have always been perceptive, sensitive, empathic, and intuitive, that a new bunch of spiritual gifts bloomed in my life during this time, and I flowed back and forth between the world of the visible, the world of the invisible, and a world of grief as I negotiated my relationship with what was occurring in my spirit and mind.

My truth is that I only had one person to talk to about what was happening- my mentor, a shaman and ceremony leader in the Lakota tribe- who could help me make sense of my experiences with my reality.

My truth is that I realized there wasn’t anybody who could support me in this journey outside of Spirit; I was standing in a door way, one foot in this world, one foot in another, and I had to find safe spaces to help me figure out how to walk between.

My truth is that I spent the last year and a half in quiet, sacred training. Attending ceremonies, reading books, studying various spiritual practices, meditating, thought journeying, speaking to others who have these gifts, trying to ground myself with a sense of scope and understanding, so I could build a vocabulary around, and learn to control, what was happening inside of me.

My truth is that last fall the spiritual gifts bloomed higher, and I knew it was time to start using them to help others. To walk between worlds for them, to talk to their spirits and guides, to retrieve information needed to help them on their soul path.

My truth is that this journey has been as lonely and soul shattering as it has beautiful and soul finding.

My truth is that I have a better relationship with my brother in the afterlife than we did in this life; though I love and respect the whole scope of both those relationships, who he was here and who he is there.

My truth is that this move to Kauai isn’t just about needing change and space and a new start- it is a soul calling that can’t be ignored. I’m supposed to use these gifts over there, replant myself in a space that will fully nourish them.

My truth is that it takes a lot of courage to speak this truth, but I am tired of hiding and tired of not being me. I spent this last year and a half feeling like a shell of self, because I wasn’t able to fully own something that has become so fundamental to my core and being and life purpose.

My truth is Love. Has always been love, will always be love, and even as I write these words and reflect on this past year in life and the places I’ve gone in this journey of heart and spirit, I can say that the core of it is love. And there is no way I would have received these gifts if I didn’t know how to humbly bring my heart back to love every time life hands me something that tells me to close.

I leave this place in just a few days time, and what will be I don’t quite know. But I know these budding things that I have learned to do in its confines are going to turn into fields of wildflowers when I get to Kauai. And I know Brent is there. And I know that a piece of myself is as well, waiting for me to come join her and step into the full of who I’m supposed to be.

And I know, and hope, that those who’ve known me make space for my experiences, whether or not they match their experiences of life. But I also know I can no longer stay silent for fear of rejection. I have a story to go live out, and it doesn’t seem to want to stay quiet, it is asking and pushing to be owned and told so I can help and heal and change and hold.

So I’m shrugging off any disbelief and letting that voice ring with her truth. My truth. A truth that I am finally, finally, finally ready- to go live and fully own.