It had always been so easy for me to extend compassion toward others. As I learned to give it to myself as well, a few more barnacles broke free, and my self-hatred softened. I started to taste the relief I’d been desperate for. Maybe if I continued my healing process, I’d finally come out of hiding.
As I continued working with John, I attended workshops with a number of spiritual teachers and explored Buddhist and Tibetan traditions. Yoga became another instrumental aspect of my healing. I gave up running five miles a day and learned to be kinder to my body. I enjoyed the flow of my asana (posture/pose) practice and how it connected me with my body.
I attended a workshop at the Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health in Massachusetts that turned out to be an awakening experience for me. I was proud of myself for going alone. I felt so empowered that I’d taken another big step, even though I hadn’t known what to expect.
What I discovered was a whole community of people who were searching, just like me. They were involved in all kinds of exciting healing modalities, some of which I hadn’t even heard of. I met Reiki masters and other energy healers, Ayurvedic practitioners, and specialized massage therapists. I began adding some of what I learned from them into my own practice as I realized that this kind of community could expose me to the wide variety of therapies available for healing.
I also went on a retreat at the Sivananda Ashram in the Bahamas and met a Vedic priest from South America who did a Vedic birth chart for me, which is a karmic map that shares the wisdom of life in the past, present, and future. Most of my friends and family thought I’d gone off the deep end by exploring spiritual healing, and I wanted to know if I was on the right path.
The reading showed that I was born under a dark moon. Since birth, I’d been in search of the light. The priest said I’d spend my entire life seeking truth. “You need to stop resisting the calling and learn to embrace your gifts.”
“But what is my truth? What’s my calling?” I asked.
“Your calling is to teach, to heal, and to help others, but you have to heal yourself first. To thine own self be true.”
“But I’m so frustrated. I can’t seem to heal my heart.”
“Stay connected to your heart. It needs to open.” I knew he must be right if he was telling me exactly what John had said.
“Deepen your practice of Bhakti yoga,” he continued. “Include chanting, mantra, and prayer in your practice, and your heart will open through your love and devotion. It will guide you on the path to self-realization, bringing you closer to God—to oneness.”
I did as he suggested, and slowly, I began to find peace on my mat. “Yoga” means “union,” and that’s how it felt for me. While on the yoga mat, my body, mind, and breath flowed seamlessly in union. I could dance with my soul, with the energy of life, and with the flow of grace. My heart filled with gratitude and bliss.
Yoga quickly became my sacred time and space. I was able to disconnect from my responsibilities and the noise that surrounded me. The negative thoughts didn’t rule me. So this is what peace feels like! I thought. I felt so connected to myself, grounding my feet to the earth and rising high to touch the heavens. I felt a contentment that I hadn’t experienced before.
When I was in yoga class, I didn’t care what was happening around me. I didn’t care if the other students were standing on their heads or if I was moving through a position correctly. It brought me such joy that I felt nothing could touch me. At the same time, I was deeply touched by the experience.
During Savasana (corpse pose), I often experienced a healing emotional release. Slowly, the light started to penetrate the darkness. In the beginning, I experienced only faint glimpses of light, but those glimpses kept me going until I experienced them for longer and longer periods of time. Eventually, the light started to overcome the darkness.
I was particularly drawn to the mantras of yoga practice. Since childhood, I had used prayer to get me through tough times, and chanting the mantras became my new way to pray. It was a direct line to the divine that connected me to my own divinity, that transcended any of my negative beliefs about myself and went far beyond what I’d experienced in therapy.
I couldn’t get enough. I wanted to spend every minute discovering more. I read the Bhagavad Gita, studied the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, and learned the eight limbs of yoga. I practiced the yamas and niyamas, which were the ethical foundations of my spiritual practice. I’d finally found the home I’d been seeking since my childhood, only it wasn’t behind closed doors. It wasn’t even a physical place. It was inside me. And I wanted to learn everything I could and share it so that more people could have the same wonderful experience.
As a result of my meditation practice, yoga, and therapy with John and Jack, my thoughts and behaviors began to change and become more positive. The ache in my heart softened. I could incorporate the teachings into my day-to-day life. I could stop myself if I judged myself or someone else, compared myself to others, or put others’ needs ahead of my own.
Through daily practice, I learned to stop thinking about the past and the future and to stop focusing on outcomes. I stopped thinking of the people in my life as problems or obstacles. I began to see them all as gifts—even the ones who had hurt me the most. I recognized that they’d taught me important lessons.
Gradually I let go of the “if only” game. That thinking had kept me locked in the belief that happiness was contingent upon some outside situation rather than what happiness actually is—an inside job. I learned that happiness is a moment-to-moment experience, not some static state that we achieve one day and never have to create again. Happiness can only be experienced in the moment of now . . . and the next moment . . . and the next.
In meditation, I began to see and experience love as a state of being rather than doing. Gradually, when I closed my eyes and sat on my pillow, I was able to let go of thoughts like “I wish Larry was alive” and “I wish I had that job I always wanted” and “Kathe, you’re such a loser.” Slowly but surely, I learned how to be present in the moment. The negative voices didn’t go away, but I learned to separate them from the truth of who I am. I was beginning to feel again, and my heart was opening. I was so grateful to be alive and grateful that I could see the gifts life had given me.
I had always believed my thoughts, even the negative ones, thinking of them as my steering wheel. Then I woke up and noticed how much my thoughts had controlled me and defined who I was, even though many of those thoughts hadn’t belonged to me. They’d been the voices of my parents and others who had put me down over the course of my life. And like we all do, I’d adopted those voices as my own.
My true voice—the real me deep inside—had been drowned out by the cacophony of negative voices that constantly chattered as they tried to keep me in check. When a punishing thought passed through my mind, I no longer allowed it to take over me. I connected to an objective part of myself, a higher state of consciousness that allowed me to see the thought for what it was—a fear, a falsehood that I had once believed. Then I could let it float away on the breath and begin my next inhale, allowing each moment to unfold.
A major shift had occurred inside me. I could forgive myself for being human. That experience grew into stronger self-love and the understanding that we are all pure love in our essence.
When I connected to my breath in meditation, I discovered that the breath is who we are! I kept going deeper inside, and that’s where I found the real Kathe in the arms of divine love—the me from before I had a name or any labels attached to me. The me who had been hidden almost my entire life behind a wall of secrets.
The pure love of my essence flowed through me, finally healing my heart and giving me the peace that had eluded me for so many years.
Eventually, I discovered a devoted bhakti community and my beautiful teacher, Sheryl Edsall, at Naturally Yoga in Glen Rock, New Jersey. As I listened to Sheryl’s sweet teachings and chants, I could feel my heart opening further. But Sheryl and my classm
ates still didn’t know my story. They were exceptionally loving people, but I was still hiding, fearful that I’d be rejected if they knew the truth.
After taking only two of Sheryl’s classes, I decided to take a nine-month teacher training course with her. I wasn’t interested in actually teaching yoga; I simply wanted to deepen my knowledge of the spiritual teachings, also known as Jnana yoga.
The training was a huge commitment for me, and I was nervous since I’d avoided commitments after I left my marriage. I didn’t know how I would juggle the courses with my demanding job and its travel obligations. And I was dating someone I cared about after years of being alone.
As the training began, Sheryl told us that whatever wasn’t meant to be in our lives would fall away during the nine months. I suppose she was right, because five months into the training, the man I was seeing broke up with me abruptly. He just said, “I’m not feeling it anymore,” and left. It was yet another hurt and loss in a long list of hurts.
But today, I realize that the universe had my back. He was no more right for me than Jerry had been. It was a solid lesson for me about attachment and love, but at the time, it felt like a big setback. I was an emotional wreck as a result, and it brought all of my abandonment issues right back up to the surface.
This time, however, I had the ability to observe and process my feelings and reactions. I could tell when I was responding from a place of self-doubt and fear. I couldn’t always control my fears, but I could at least recognize them. That, in and of itself, was growth.
It was difficult to continue with the training while going through this emotional turmoil, but the training was still a godsend for me. I could process the difficult feelings using the tools I was learning while also receiving my community’s support.
Even though I wasn’t interested in becoming a yoga teacher, Sheryl and her husband, Neil, encouraged me to think about teaching. “You have a gift and an energy in you,” Sheryl said. But I couldn’t see what they were talking about, especially since my self-doubt had kicked in again after the breakup.
When graduation day came, our families arrived to celebrate with us. Sheryl shared the stories of three goddesses: Lakshmi, Saraswati, and Durga. Lakshmi brings in abundance, Saraswati represents eloquence with words and creativity, and Durga is the destroyer and protector. Sheryl asked our families and friends to decide which of these goddesses symbolized each one of us. When she called on my sons, they unanimously said that I would be Saraswati. Even before she knew this, Sheryl had already chosen my Sanskrit name, Vani, which means “speaking your truth.”
“I’m honored that you see me as eloquent,” I said to Sheryl, “but I’m struggling to see it. If only I could find my voice!”
“When you learn to see what others see in you, you’ll find your voice,” she said.
I sighed. I thought I’d already begun to see what others saw in me, but obviously, I had more work to do.
Some time after the training, my friend Danielle and I visited Yogaville, an ashram and the home of Sheryl’s guru, Swami Satchidananda (or Guru Dev, as he’s often referred to), in Buckingham, Virginia. He was noted for opening the Woodstock music festival in 1969 and founding Integral Yoga, and he was instrumental in bringing yoga to the West.
We had been told that this ashram, situated within the Blue Ridge Mountains, was a magical place. We were bursting with excitement during our eight-hour ride there. It was like a pilgrimage to the Holy Land.
At first, though, we were disappointed. We didn’t feel the magic we’d expected. Then, that night, I had the most vivid dreams filled with beauty and serenity unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I saw myself as a kid walking up and down the street where I’d grown up. I witnessed the conversations I’d had with God as a child, asking Him to watch over me when I felt alone and afraid.
Throughout this movie of my life, I wasn’t scared. I felt safe and secure. I felt like everything that had happened to me in my life had brought me to that moment. Something was guiding me through the dream, and I believed it was Swami Satchidananda. After all, I was at his home—his sacred land.
In the morning, Danielle told me she had had amazing dreams too. We compared our experiences, and they were remarkably similar.
That morning, being at the ashram was a completely different experience for me—like heaven on earth. It felt like home. The St. James River runs through the hundreds of acres of the ashram’s sacred land, and Danielle and I decided to go kayaking. As I paddled down the river, I thought about my dad and how much we’d enjoyed nature together. As I watched the birds fly overhead, I could feel him with me. I felt joy, peace, and a connection to the divine.
When we returned home, I told Sheryl that she needed to take the yogis from the studio to the ashram. “Everything you’ve been teaching me makes more sense to me now,” I said.
“If you coordinate it and make it happen, I’ll go there and teach,” Sheryl said. So I did just that, and soon we were holding regular retreats at the ashram.
During the first retreat, I did my Karma yoga work. I served the attendees by washing dishes, making chai, and placing beautiful little lotus flowers on the doors of their rooms. I could tangibly feel the difference between taking care of others from a full heart as opposed to a place of deprivation. It was full-circle love and pure bliss.
During our third retreat at the ashram, another teacher from the studio named Veronica came up to me while I was working in the kitchen.
“Kathe, I don’t know if you know much about me. I don’t tell many people this, but I’m an intuitive. Sometimes angels speak through me. As I watch you, I see three angels next to you, and they’re sending me messages.”
“Yes, I know.”
“You do?”
“Yes, they’re my mother, my father, and my husband, Larry.”
“Yes, that’s exactly who they are. They have a message for you.”
I was excited because over the years, I had gone to a number of psychics who speak to the other side, hoping that Larry would come through. He had only come through briefly a couple of times to say that he was watching over me and the boys. Maybe he would have more to say this time!
“They want you to know that they’re with you, but they don’t need to be with you,” Veronica continued. “It isn’t that they don’t want to be with you. But they’re only here because you want them here.”
“What are you talking about? Why wouldn’t they want to be with me? It’s the least they can do. I did take care of them! Are you saying that even in death, they don’t want to be with me?”
“You’re not hearing me. They want you to know that they’ll stay as long as you need them, but you don’t need them! You’re okay without them.”
“No, no, no! I’m not okay without them! Why the hell wouldn’t they want to be with me? They left me here!”
Veronica stayed calm and held the space for me as the emotions and the darkness rushed through me.
“You’re not hearing me. They’ll stay with you, but you need to realize that you don’t need them. You’re doing the work. You don’t need to hold on to them any longer.”
She was right; I couldn’t hear her. All I could hear was that they were abandoning me again! It would take me some time to process Veronica’s message from my loved ones. It was yet another lesson about attachment.
At the end of the retreat, Sheryl asked everyone to say a word or two about me in gratitude for coordinating their visit to the ashram. Even with all the work I’d been doing, it was hard for me to take in.
Then Neil spoke. He said, “When I met Kathe, I met someone so filled with love that she’s literally pure love.” His words changed me forever. I trusted Neil. I loved him and felt humbled by what he said. This time, I could truly let the love in.
I had another transformative experience when a new career opportunity came out of the blue. Cartier called me because they knew my work and wanted to interview me for a position. This was the most prestigious w
atch company in the world!
I had come a long way from my humble beginnings, but this time, I wasn’t nervous. I wasn’t attached to the outcome. I knew that I was successful whether or not I got hired. Instead, I just felt gratitude. It was the first time in my life that I really owned who I was. All of my inner work on myself was following me into the business world, with no L on my forehead anymore.
And I got the job.
After one of our retreats at the ashram, I rode home with Sheryl and Neil. Sheryl pointed out that I hadn’t shared many details of my personal life with them. She started asking about Larry.
I was faced with a pivotal moment, and I knew I needed to be honest with Sheryl and Neil. It wasn’t fair to them or to me to hide anymore. Was I willing to be vulnerable and give up my false sense of self?
I took a deep breath and told them all of it from beginning to end—Larry’s drug years, his struggle with HIV, and his death. It took about three hours of the drive to get through it, and afterward, we were all completely drained emotionally and physically.
They were blown away that I had kept my story hidden from most people for so long—it had been almost 20 years since Larry’s death. But in the end, they offered me pure love, no judgments. And they didn’t treat me any differently than they had when we had begun our drive.
Then Neil shared some of his personal story, which included a difficult childhood. I realized that I wasn’t alone and that we all have stories buried inside of us.
“In the end, your attachment to the story is like a chain that binds you to Larry and your parents,” Sheryl said. “You’re holding on to something that no longer exists. You’re holding it so tight, and it’s so heavy that it’s dragging you down. Why are you still holding it?”
What she said was so similar to what John had told me, and it harked back to Veronica’s message about attachment too. “I don’t know, Sheryl. If they’re gone, what else do I have? It’s all I have. It’s all I’ve ever known. It’s who I am.”
Unlocking Secrets Page 13