You’ve been reading my stories for years now. All by way of these journals, blogs and search engines. First, when I began entering my thoughts into a locked diary at five years old, and now in this cloud of mystery via this online contraption.
I have been searching for you a whole lifetime. Thirty-seven years, I have been looking for who you are so that I can see who I am too. Our reflections are often One and the same, though your blue eyes and blonde hair seem a great deal more mystical and powerful than some little girl who writes online entries to God.
There is a mystery here for me to uncover and as it stands today, that curious equation is who “you” are. Sometimes I write to you as though you are God, while other times I express myself to Jesus or some other deity up there or down below. Sometimes I even claim to be the devil’s advocate or the devil herself, which isn’t perceived as quite so loving when compared to my graceful status quo. Regardless the identification, I write to “you” to find “me” among the masses of identities that I love as well as my own.
Yesterday, I went to the shaman again. There is healing there and I crave this possibility that I am whole. Yearning for forgiveness, this release is only available to me when I am able to forgive. This shaman assists me to heal.
We filter through this life and past life circumstances for where the negative energy that still vibrates within is stored, then he listens to Spirit to guide him through the channeling. Having been trained to heal others in various ways, I am on a parallel life path, though I identify more with the term oracle.
Researching this term “oracle”, I find a Psalm of David, “Unto thee will I cry, Oh Lord my rock; be not silent to me: lest, if thou be silent to me, I become like them that go down into the pit. Hear the voice of my supplications, when I cry unto thee, when I lift up my hands toward thy holy Oracle.” ( Psalm 28:1-2 )
A man after God’s heart, David, also wrote my name, Selah, at the end of chapters. This is my chosen name and a reminder of who I have become. Stephanie, my given name, is a reminder of who I once was. Stephanie’s sentences still make a whole lot of sense to most people. Selah refuses to make a whole lot of sense to most people because she is a gender fluid they. In either case, it’s just a name and a pronoun. Who ‘I am’ is still One and the same as I ever was before each beginning.
Speaking of beginnings, it’s 4am and I am about to start my day. Navigating to the beach with my best friend, I will listen to your music as we laugh and fly across the sand together. In this story, I live in California. In this story, I am also a seeker who has learned to search for all those past lives with efforts of release and resolution.
Beginning today, I just wanted to express a few stories of gratitude for my Creator.
Unto thee I cry, my rock; be not silent to me,