In looking back at the distorted filter through which I perceived my life, I realize that there was a moment where hope burst through. It had always been there; I couldn't see it. I was not abused at home. I came from a very loving home, well protected, solid roots. But I was unable to receive nor give love except out of lack. I created a persona that was real on some level but there was a soul sucking force beneath me that bled this persona, a constant battle waging in my soul, depression, sarcasm, cynicism all protective barriers, ammunition against anyone seeking to get in.
Yet there is hope. I entered the stream, to use Buddhist parlance, in early 1994 at a Youth Hostel in Kellogg, Idaho, light bursting through my soul at the top of Yosemite Falls in Yosemite National Park. It fell upon deep, dark soil. However, the thorns and the weeds surrounding this seed was choking the life out of me, trying to prevent the seed from growing.
But it took root. I now had a new frame of reference, an experience to which I could refer that was positive, uplifting, ultimate, blissful even. It was a pivotal moment.
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