Back in my college days, I remember I purposely decided to go seeing the showing of the movie “City Of Angels” by myself. I also purposely went during the day while others were working. I knew the movie would move me to tears, and the less people around the better. Of course it was littered with a Hollywood love story, but much of it spoke to my heart. My heart that held onto a secret I had kept for years. A secret I would never tell another living soul until many many years later.
I sobbed at City Of Angels. Not because of Nick Cage’s or Meg Rylan’s stellar performance, but because it made me feel not alone. If that story were true and not written by a Hollywood writer, can you imagine what people would have thought? Meg would walk around the city telling people she was in love with a ghost? She wouldn’t and instead lead a life alone in it, and her ability.
When you are walking a life down a path that includes experience from the “other side” people get uncomfortable and often time critical. The general public will try to label you as “New Age”, and some will wonder when you’ll get out your crystal ball. I got this feeling very early on in life. That my story would not be excepted by all. My soul could not take being called a liar, or being pushed into conformed labels that did not define me. So I sat still in it. Just me and God. Using outlets like the silver screen to find bits of comfort.
I often found places I felt holy in nature to comfort me. I grew up my entire life feeling odd, and out-of-place. I felt more connected “there” than “here”. And had to make it a life habit to find places here to be alone in it.
I stood by myself at the foot of the Duomo in Milan weeping quietly. It stood lit by candle light only, rich with history, a long connection to God, and a place that understood me. I got it, and it got me.
I sat by the Bethesda fountain in Central Park more days than I could count. I meditated, prayed, I focused on the massive angel that stood before me, as thousands of New Yorker’s swarmed by hurrying to get somewhere. One day I took a little girl I was babysitting to see the fountain. Beneath the terrace it was clear someone else found the place to be just as spiritual. In the hustle and bustle of such a large city, she and I watched this man (named Thoth (who was part of an Academy Award winning documentary) sing and dance –which he refers to as a pray-formance:
I wept. I got him, and when he saw me weeping, he got me.
Bethesda terrace is a well-known staple to NYC. It often catches the eye of many movie makers, photographers, and people seeking nature in the heart of the city. For me that place was church. It still remains deeply sentimental me, and a place I will always return to with an uplifting heart.
Now that my story has been told, I no longer have to weep in secret, however, I still seek out moments alone. Moments I can turn to nature or places rich in history and feel completely understood. Finding places that remind of the place I once was after-death fills my heart more than anything else on this earth.
Sometimes it isn’t only seeking up that matters, but seeking out. People often say they don’t like to be left alone, or feel uncomfortable being alone. I believe being alone can gift you the biggest clarity’s, and make you stop in the motions of life to concentrate on just being who you naturally are. I treasure those moments I carve out for myself. I devour them like spiritual candy. It reminds me…. I am never alone. Not here, not there, not ever.
Leave a Reply