I was brought into this world as a mixed blood child. I was German and Cherokee. I grew up with a vast exposure to religions and belief systems from all over the world. Every time my father would go off on a ship, he would bring back new information about some other culture and their system of spirituality. In the meantime, my mother tried to raise good Christian kids. I learned the Native American traditions as best I could under the circumstances.
My mother and father were both very eclectic mystics. At that time, it was not spoken of and was called the *underground* spirituality. I grew up learning to keep secrets, but I also grew up being protected from those who would cause harm because of the secrets I knew.
I always knew I was *different* from the other kids, but never really understood why. When I was still quite young, my mother and father divorced and went their separate paths. We, the children, were back and forth for a while, then settled down with Mama. Older siblings were placed up for adoption, as she could not possibly feed all the children. The war ration stamps that she was receiving at the time just did not stretch far enough.
I have early recollections, even before birth, of being called by many different names, and this caused a rift in my personality. I learned to communicate on the level expected, according to the name I was addressed by. I was young when Mama re-married and we were moved into Long Beach, California. Before I started school, we had moved to a place called Midway City, in Orange County, California. It was here that I began going to various Sunday Schools and summer Bible camps. I attended the Salvation Army Summer Camp and learned the philosophy of always being there to help another who may be in need. At the same time, I was attending the "Friends" Sunday school and was taught the basic motto of: "Thou shalt not raise thy hand in anger against any living thing." This has always been the Quaker philosophy. This was a turning point in my life, as I decided right then and there that I wanted to grow up to serve others in some capacity. I wanted never to harm another, for any reason. And I found a peace in knowing that these two truths would guide me for the rest of my life.
There were good times and bad times, as I am sure there are in all families. But we managed to grow through it all. I had a deep craving for the ways of Nature and the Earth. I had empathic feelings when I was around other people, but I never knew what it was until much later. I had a small group (3) of close friends, but was generally an "outcast" amongst the children of the neighborhood. I spent many hours alone. It was during these hours that I would make contact with the "invisibles", as I called them.
My parents insisted that I just had a vivid imagination and let it go at that. This was fine with me at the time, because I could not explain my conversations to them, anyway. As I delved deeper and deeper into meditation and prayer and began to see that I could make things happen and bring certain guides to me by thinking about them, I found that I was in awe of the skills and talents I possessed. I wondered why none of the others around me could see or hear the same things I did. At about age 10, we moved (once again) to Rock Springs, Wyoming. We lived in a large house with coal heat about 14 miles outside of town. There were only 3 houses there, all in a little row. I loved it there! My brothers and I had many childhood adventures in the hills and along the creeks. The people in the house next door had children the same ages as we were. The little girl became my best friend and we did everything together. I shared some of my secrets with her. She was amazed at the things I showed her. I could levitate a toy. I could think about someone and they would come. I could tell her how she was feeling before she ever spoke.
One day, while we were out playing in the hills, we came upon an injured bunny. It was lying on a rock, breathing hard and jerking. Kim got upset and said she could tell it was going to die. But I picked it up and put it on a grassy pad. I instructed Kim to place her hands on the bunny and think real hard about it getting better. I did the same thing. For a time, the bunny just laid there, looking at us. We could see that it was afraid. I sang a little song to the bunny and it calmed right down. After about 10 minutes, the bunny got up and sat looking at us for a few more minutes. Then it licked my hand and hopped away. At that moment, I realized that I had been erroneously convinced that my skills and talents were a simple matter of imagination.
As I became a teenager, I had more experiences. Kim and I did many experiments. We were very closely bonded. We would sit and stare into each others eyes and talk about the images that came forth. At first, it was a facial distortion. But later the images took on whole appearances. It would be as if she had changed into someone else, or an animal of one sort or another. We both kept diaries of the events and talked about it at length. But we never told anyone else.
There came a time, as always, that we had to separate. Kim's dad had found a better paying job in another place and they were going to move away. I was devastated. Kim was my only friend and the only one who shared my secrets. Her parents and mine said we could write letters and still be close friends. I *knew* that I would never see Kim again. I argued. She argued. Our parents tried logic and comforted us. However, that did not matter. She moved away with her family and I never saw her again.
Not long after Kim had moved away, my own dad received word that he was being transferred back to Southern California. We packed up and moved once again. By now, I was nearly 14.
(To be continued...)
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