When I was a child, at night my mother would stand in the doorway of the room I shared with my sister and sing us to sleep.
She had a beautiful soprano voice and an extensive playlist.
Everything from beautiful Italian aria to contemporary classics like Summertime.
Whatever the words, her voice wove a blanket of love and protection around me as I drifted off to sleep.
My favorite was Somewhere Over the Rainbow.
With the blue birds and the lemon drops and the why oh why can’t I – I was transported, lifted, directed to find my rainbow and follow my yellow brick road.
My mother wanted nothing less for me than I find my dreams.
And so, I set off towards what I thought I should find and do: a college degree and a prince charming.
As I look back, I can see how both were reasonable goals given my life circumstances up to that point.
Except that I also felt the pressure to become an exceptional businesswoman or go to medical school like my father or get a law degree.
All efforts I was deemed quite capable of doing.
Efforts that would justify the expense of my education and the support of my family.
However, my yellow brick road took an unimagined turn.
I did get the degree and the marriage.
Yet, despite my efforts towards a professional life, I was mostly a stay-at-home mom for my beautiful daughter.
There was at least fifteen years that I thought everything had been properly placed and I was set for the rest of my life.
Instead, two doors appeared from somewhere over the rainbow.
A door of entry and a door of exit.
The first door, I realize now, was the opening which completely remodeled and reignited my yellow brick road life.
Though at the time I thought it was simply a weekend diversion.
This was the door opened by learning to connect with the Akashic Records.
Back then, I thought I was learning a cool healing technique.
Instead, this door led me into a completely unexpected life.
Not a book or a library filled with the perfect answers.
Rather a way to live my life in trust, truth, and self-worth.
The second door, the exit door, opened when that guy who I had thought was my forever-man demanded divorce.
I entered this doorway with every dream I had consciously claimed for my life sliding away in disappointment and fear.
Disappointment in myself for failing to live life perfectly.
Fear of being alone and unloved.
Life Shifts
Now I look at these two doors and contemplate my path since then.
Through one door, I left behind what no longer served me.
I left behind the mistaken belief that I'd found my rainbow.
I learned that I matter, my life is what I want, and I do not ever need to make do.
Through the other door, I discovered my life as journey – a journey with no end because there is always something to learn and experience.
This is a life where I connected with the best of me, every minute, every day.
This is the life where personal and professional are interwoven around the depth and breadth of my being.
When I was a child, the rainbow was the destination of life's journey.
Find the blue birds and lemon drops and life is golden.
Instead, somewhere over the rainbow is the repeated experience of my journey.
There is no destination nor just one rainbow.
There is the best of me, ignited, illuminated, and engaged.
Is it manifestation or vision?
This all brings me to ponder the spiritual concept of manifestation.
I have had the urge and call to move from Oklahoma for over three years.
Returning to Oklahoma is something I swore I would never do.
And though I returned I have never had the feeling this is where I live the rest of my life.
Oklahoma is not a turning point – rather a transition point from old to new, from the past to my future – an opportunity to release whatever no longer serves or is leftover from before.
By deciding to move, I feel like I am continuing my journey on my yellow brick road with renewed enthusiasm and intention.
Another exit door is opening and I know it is time for me to leave Oklahoma.
This choice has triggered both fear and excitement.
Yet, I can feel another entry door just beyond the current crossroads.
What do I need to manifest both exit and entry?
It's time to move to Vermont I decide.
Now is the time.
Then fear hit.
Maybe it's not Vermont?
Maybe I will try and fail?
Maybe I should make do with where I am?
Long story, short – I didn't work on manifesting.
Instead, I focus on my vision and specifically how the vision feels to me.
How will I feel as the yellow brick road takes me somewhere over the rainbow?
Yes, I have made lists of what I want.
The lists help me zero in on the feelings especially what is most important and where I feel like I must not make do.
Making do was the habit I learned and released at the last exit door.
My ability to give myself up for others’ demands and desires is a habit I have jettisoned and don’t want it going with me.
However, fear of failure and of the unknown trigger another wave of maybe I just need to make do and take care of others.
I back up a bit and make do just a tiny bit by bargaining: I'll take any house in Vermont in my price range which is cockroach free.
Just get me out of here! I know, no matter what, I’ve gotta go.
Flailing in the fear, I feel myself in a hole, with tunnel vision, floundering, wishing, hoping I do the right thing.
I refocus believing that I'm doing what's best for me to follow my dream – no matter the fear or self-judgment.
I will live my life as I chose and not let fear control me or my path.
I apply for a mortgage and find a realtor.
The advice is to get a sales contract on my Oklahoma place before house shopping in Vermont.
Another inflection point: do I sell in Oklahoma before looking in Vermont and risk the possibility of having nowhere to live?
I run through all the possibilities and decide I can take this step into the unknown.
I feel I can trust myself to follow the path and deal with whatever comes my way.
More Bumps
Then my father enters hospice, and my life appears to take a back seat.
I go see him every morning.
His condition improves yet, without surgery, he will not recover fully.
He'll be in hospice until his immune system fails. Days, weeks, months – no one knows.
Lordy! This is an unexpected bump which pulls at all the old strings of self-denial, overextended responsibility, and personal shame.
A perfect cacophony and perhaps more than a potential roadside diversion.
First disappointment arises followed quickly by defiance as I come back to me and what I want somewhere, somehow.
This is not a stopping point -- rather a defining point.
A chance to be clear about what I want, about my dreams, about the desire I have for myself to get further down my path, beyond the crossroads, and through the door of my future life.
I can feel this path even though it looks different than my original imagination and appears differently in real life.
That's what the bumps are for: clarity, intention, and my will to claim what I want for me.
My father's always followed his dreams.
I will do the same.
I put the Oklahoma home up for sale and get a great offer in five days.
Sales contract in hand, I set out for Vermont.
Ninety miles out of town I have car problems and a check engine light.
After a visit with the local mechanic, I turn around, fingers crossed, and make it back to my Oklahoma carport.
All the while wondering about the meaning of this particular bump?
Is this not the right time?
Is my vision faulty?
What do I feel is right?
Have I failed?
Essentially, I decide that now is not the time for these questions.
Instead, it's time to figure out what's the best way to get me to Vermont.
Time is of the essence.
Now is the time to go house hunting in Vermont.
The answer: a rental car.
By 3:00 PM, I'm back on the road and fly past those first 90 miles with no trouble.
Then, by 5:00 PM two days later, I am pulling into my place of rest in Vermont after 1600+ miles of driving.
Saturday morning, I meet my realtor, and we see three houses.
At this point, I'll take about anything.
Yet, my realtor asks me what I want.
Well, if you take the second house and put it on a couple of acres….
We head out of town to see another house, and I realize we are on the highway I have said I wanted to be near.
The road follows a curve and then the land opens before me.
I feel my breath catch and joy wells up within.
I feel I am no longer alone.
I'm in the sunshine and the forest and with the land.
The land welcomes me home and tells me I'm almost there.
A rare excitement stirs within me, and I feel a deep, deep connection rise up within.
Tunnel vision gone, I am out of the hole and in the sunshine.
As I turn into the driveway, I feel I have come home.
Not a destination, not an ending.
Rather a new beginning.
I have walked through the door into a somewhere over the rainbow just for me.
While this new home checks most of the boxes, what is most amazing is how I feel.
I feel connected, supported, and loved.
All those bumps were just moments of getting clear about what I want and what I feel is my life and my journey.
Fear hasn't magically disappeared.
Instead, I haven’t allowed fear to drag me into a future where all I get is how I make do.
Instead, I've expanded my personal trust of myself and my capacity to adapt when necessary and to overcome the bumps and hurdles when they appear.
For me, life isn't manifesting a destination.
For me, life is envisioning my felt sense and being open to the possibilities that emerge but aren't seeable until beginning, until you commit to your path.
Moving Forward
Operation Vermont is in full swing and I’m working through the logistics of two closings, packing for a cross country move, and a new beginning all by mid-August.
In my childhood I took my favorite song to mean that I needed to get somewhere and be somebody.
For me, now, somewhere over the rainbow is a direction and a process rather than a predefined destination.
I get clear about what I want and how I feel about these wants.
I don't have to figure out exactly what satisfies the desire and my feelings.
I also don’t need to abandon me to fear.
Instead, the process of life's journey helps me clarify and refine, moving me along my yellow brick road.
I am my own wizard so to speak.
I am that which I seek.
When I don't let my fears get the best of me, I can climb out of my hole and connect with the best of who I am and can become.
I'll keep you posted.
Life is good!
In Joy!
Cheryl
I learned to read my own Akashic Records in 2010 and Akashic Records of others in 2011 from you Cheryl and its been a road of learning, growth, trust and amazing revelations for all of us. In Beaverton, OR continuing my journey and learning.
I often think of you and enjoy reading your newsletters!
Hope you have an amazing time in Vermont!