The creative journey behind writing my book, Dear Beloved: Sacred Messages to the World, was a remarkable one, which began with a stirring, a whisper, a silent nudge.
A year ago, sitting under the shade of a wisteria tree, my sketchbook in hand in my ninety five year old mother’s English garden, I quietly began to draw simple mandala designs beckoned by their sacred geometry. The process was unselfconscious. I was not seeking perfection – my pen flowed, colors emerged, and I was lost in the quiet calm of a solitary summer afternoon.
In my Visionary Coaching Program designed for my clients who are going through a time of deep transition, seeking to step into their new story – I introduce them to a powerful process called Future Self Dialogue.
Here you are invited to step into a possible future, one that beckons you, as you claim your place in a world where you are not diminished but celebrated; where your gifts are shared and recognized; where you seek to live from an enlivened place that is essential to your well-being. A place where you come home to yourself.
I awoke on the morning of January 1, 2013 — New Year’s Day — with what one might consider an unusual question. “What can I do to terrify myself this year?”
Within an hour of posing that question to myself, the phone rang. A friend was inviting me to offer an evening talk on my work with women artisans around the world at a performing arts center nearby. I am used to giving these talks, the topic is familiar and comfortable. But what I said to my friend that morning took us both by surprise. “No. No more talks. No more speeches. I want to do a one-woman show. It will be called “The Heroine’s Journey: Tales of Love, Despair, Faith and Forgiveness.”
“Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed. “I had no idea you wanted to do a one woman show, Amber!”
“Neither did I,” I said, totally taken aback. “Neither did I.”
We are all faced with an urgent call of our times: to wake up from a trance – a collective trance – in which we have forgotten who we are, burying the true nature of our beings under the sands of time and passing millennia.
It is a forgetfulness that has cost us deeply, caught up as we are in the frenzy of myopic thinking – a thinking that limits and imprisons us and keeps us bound to short term goals and short term decisions. We have lost sight of our future. Perhaps in our deepest psychosis, we don’t believe we have a future.
As I look out into the world with all its explosive challenges, its profound unraveling, it is clear we have arrived at the tethered end of one evolutionary era – with its mindset of scarcity, fear, greed , control and self loathing. We have all been wired into it, encoded to think that this was the only way, the only collective story possible for humanity.
There are times when we find ourselves standing at life’s threshold – that liminal place of “no longer and not yet”.
Caught between two worlds, thresholds can be both terrifying and enlivening. They herald uncertainty. The terror of the unknown. We begin to experience the past – all that was once familiar and secure – unraveling like the threads of a worn tapestry.
The narrative of our past life is no longer entirely relevant and does not reflect the longing and ache that haunts us as we evolve and grow. We become like the caterpillar that must transform into a butterfly – a poignant metaphor for these vulnerable times in our lives.