Walking With Spirit

Walking with Spirit by Bonnie Zima Dowd

It all started with a subtle and strange feeling stirring in my gut; a knowing; something I couldn’t put my finger on. Ironically, I was experiencing writer’s block at the same time. I was frustrated, staring at a blank computer screen, waiting for a spark of creativity to show up. I tried to ignore the odd nudge I felt in my belly. But the nudge kept getting stronger until I found the courage to sit quietly. Something I’ll call Spirit got my attention. Spirit wasn’t a who or a what, not a dream or a vision. It was a deep and weird feeling inside my body, like my soul was reaching out to get my attention. I wasn’t scared.

Never in all my life have I had a spiritual experience. What was I to do? I hesitated at first. Why me? Why now? I have free will. I could choose differently. Finally, I threw my arms up in the air, surrendered, and silenced my mind. I didn’t smell anything different in the air, but when I let my mind connect with Spirit, a deep sense of calm flowed through me and then something started to shift inside. I felt lighter. More joy, more peace, more love. It’s hard to explain.

Then, Spirit gently guided me, telepathically, to change my writing from fiction to non-fiction. Ask life’s big questions. Who am I? What do I want from life? How do I live? Why am I here? What’s my story? What’s important for me to learn? Search for the answers and write about it. A simple, but profound message. I didn’t speak. Next, Spirit whispered, have patience, my dear; trust the process. In a matter of seconds, Spirit was gone and a comforting feeling, like the first bite into a warm grilled cheese sandwich, lingered in the air. Everything was over.

No question about it. I was on a special mission. I packed up my writing from the past four years and moved everything into a closet. I waited for my writer’s block to break. I sat and sat some more, always in silence, resting my thoughts, like a mother bird patiently waiting for her chicks to hatch. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. By the third month, I felt inspired to write again. When I sat at my writing desk, an old Hitchcock maple dining room table, I was guided to open myself to a full life review. I was to carefully examine each of my seven decades, and write about the good, bad, and ugly. And don’t leave emotions out.

Once I got into a rhythm, I wrote something every day. Little by little, the way a turtle crosses the road, I pieced 70 years together. Sometimes, I imagined myself as a famous archeologist digging for buried treasure in Egypt, or searching for a lost city in the Amazon. Except, the one thing I was looking for wasn’t a tangible thing to display in a museum. I was seeking something much more valuable, precious nuggets of wisdom from my inner self. And the only expert who could uncover them was me.

After a month, my homework was done. I studied my notes against the questions Spirit had asked. Reviewed my adventures over hills and valleys. The endless paths that led to dead ends or waves of change. Remembered more than a few difficult experiences and skipped over the boring ones. Added new notes to my life review and focused on key observations, like the times I fell and the times I bloomed; the times I felt pain and the times I surrendered, knowing every experience would help me find the answers I was seeking.

Two days passed. Nothing. I replayed Spirit’s initial visit. Recalled how I was to trust the process. Grew impatient. I should know something by now.

Suddenly I couldn’t breathe or move. My heart was pounding. Tears washed down my face. I can’t explain it, but in that moment, I was awakened to my soul’s spiritual growth. And when I saw the unseen, I was beyond grateful for the wisdom I gained and the hard work put in. I watched myself learning to let go over and over again. The endless moments I practiced living in the moment. Learning to love myself was tough, but I finally got there. Finding compassion for others as well as compassion for myself was equally important for growth. The endless times I learned the importance of self-care and forgiveness of self and of others. I changed slowly, one step at a time; found joy and discovered Spirit in me. Then life shifted. I found meaning.

Now I had the answers about who I am; how I want to live; what I want from life; why I’m here and what’s important for me to understand before I die. Today, I live authentically and write from a place of truth. I am a part of the group of souls who live in a human body. This is a new and exciting way of being. I’m on a sacred journey to authentic self; the light of higher consciousness, that which grows from unconditional love when shared and given.

While the light of the setting sun streamed through the dining room windows, I started writing my essay. I know the last thing Spirit wanted was for me to keep this experience to myself.

Bonnie Zima Dowd is a retired fundraising professional for non-profits. She likes to keep busy by writing, exploring the creative arts, and walking with Spirit. She lives in Massachusetts.