Greetings everyone and welcome to another installment of the WE ARE INFINITE stories and giveaway! I'm so grateful to be able to do this and to share stories that remind us all of connection and our intrinsic worth.
Now, before we dive into today's tale, let's have a quick refresher on what's happenin' 'round here:
1. Contest is simple: you send me (firstname.lastname@example.org) your INFINITE STORIES and I post 'em. I also promote them, so if you want to include a link to a novel you wrote, an etsy shop, or other such awesomeness, then by all means, include that in your entry! I want to share the love!
2. INFINITE STORIES are tales that remind us of connection: ghost stories, past lives, prophetic dreams, a moment that changed your life, how you found faith, how you found love, how you recovered from heartache, a friend who saved your life, a dog that meant the world, a cat that knew too much, a feeling that spared you or a loved one from pain, a feeling that hooked up a pair of friends for marriage, kids, and life. Anything and everything goes!
All the details about what I'm looking for and how to play are found HERE.
3. Each story enters you for the grand prize. What is it, you ask? Well it's Amazon cash, artwork, and a book!
4. Don't have a story you want to share? No problem! Sharing information about the contest also constitutes an entry for the grand prize! More details about that are right HERE.
5. More questions? Check out the FAQ or email me at email@example.com
And last but not least, don't forget to check out the always-accumulating-ever-impressive-oh-so-powerful WE ARE INFINITE STORIES INDEX, where all the contest entries will be linked for you to peruse anytime you need a reminder that you are never, ever alone!
Today's entry is one of mine. I love the chance to be publicly grateful for all the incredible ways the people in my life and the Universe at large has helped me out over the years.
I'll be posting my entries mixed in with others as the contest rolls on.
Deadline for all entries is FEBRUARY 8, 2015!
Much love, many thanks, and light and love to you and yours.
Follow the Raven Part VI, Conclusion
Follow the Raven Part VI, Conclusion
When I think about my month of discovery, I have to laugh. How often does life put us in a situation that clearly explains what we need to do and how, but we miss it because we're overthinking, too literal, or not literal enough?
I thought I'd lost my way because of a relationship that fell apart. I thought it was because I'd been coping with health issues and gotten behind schedule. I thought it had to do with me not doing enough, in general, and I started looking for other ways and means of completing something important in this life.
It's a trap we can all find: the idea that we must do in order to be worthy of existence. It's a trap in which I found myself, and it's a trap from which L and my host of spiritual teachers managed to free me.
It wasn't the relationship. Loving and caring for someone, no matter how it ends, is one of the most important things we can do and experience and even stand for in this life. So no, that wasn't it.
I was resolving health issues with one goal in mind: to be able to do what I'm here to do. Write, connect people, and exist. The health problems are something I've been working on in some ways all my life, but they've finally gotten under control in the last three years. In my month of discovery after L came to visit, I realized I was working on getting my physical self in line but missing one very important part of the puzzle:
The spiritual self.
And the spiritual self is never, ever about the doing. It's about the existing.
The day I was to go meet my Energy Worker, I got out of the shower and saw something peculiar on my flank. I've had sensitive skin (along with sensitive intestines and everything else) all my life, so seeing the series of red bumps didn't freak me out. I sighed, "Oh joy. A rash. Just what I need," and I got closer to the mirror to inspect it.
All along my side, over the ribs, was a faint pattern of red dots that looked like a cross. Complete with symmetrical center point and equal numbers of dots on the short arms. I blinked at that thinking, "Huh. Looks like a cross," and I didn't think any more about it. I grabbed the Benedryl cream and went on my way.
Did I mention I'm not a subtle creature? Which can also mean I'm an occasionally seriously obtuse one?
I got to my Energy Worker's office, and we started to chat, and one of the first things he said to me was, "The body gives us messages using symbols."
The second thing he said to me was, "Kelly, I think you'd benefit greatly by engaging in a spiritual practice and remembering or rediscovering your spirituality."
And the third thing he said to me, as everyone has said to me since for as long as I can remember, "Do you meditate?"
I told him about my rash, and he laughed. I told him about my anxiety, my journey, my life, my failed relationship at the beginning of 2013, and about L, who had so clearly outlined for me the need to be able to get up and go whenever I wanted or needed in life.
And slowly, gently, and over the next four weeks, my Energy Worker helped me put it all together.
When I initially asked the Universe for a sign that what I was doing in this life was right, it sent me to the Raven. The Raven led me almost directly to a man who openly denounces capitalism, believes in creating for the sake of creating, and thinks that spirituality is a dying phenomenon that will completely die so long as capitalism holds it, and us, hostage.
While I might not agree with L entirely, I do believe without a shadow of a doubt that he was a symbol of what I needed both more and less of in life: more spirituality, less consumerism.
L really was a sign from fate, and that sign was a big, glowing, day-glow blinking neon affair screaming: "GET YOUR CAPITALISM OUT OF YOUR SPIRITUALISM. YER DOIN' IT WRONG."
Somewhere along the line, I'd forgotten that a connection with the cosmos to tell stories and meet people was a spiritual affair for me. Writing is my church, the characters my people, and that steeple is one massive antennae to the Universe. Beam me up, Scotty: I need to chat up an alien about his life and times.
I believe the self-doubt and sadness that came from a friendship ending so suddenly and so violently pervaded into the writing. Especially since that relationship was very closely connected to the writing, and always had been. I had failed, you see. The relationship ended, which meant I'd failed, and the taint of failure and self-doubt snuck into every corner of my life. That self- doubt eventually made me think I couldn't continue on this path. I wasn't worthy, oh Lord, and I needed a new way, a different way, ANY way to be able to be useful in this existence. Thinking of different ways to be useful led me straight into the idea that paths must provide some sort of benefit, preferably monetary. If I couldn't write, then I'd need another livelihood. I'd need a new game plan entirely.
And the moment I started thinking that way, the Universe quite literally shut. Me. Down.
I couldn't GO anywhere.
Literally. I couldn't get in my car and GO anywhere.
I was headed in the wrong proverbial direction, so the Universe, working in symbols, made it impossible for me to continue going.
A fact that was driven home when the man to whom the Raven had led me came here and wanted to go somewhere with me, and I couldn't.
When I put all this together, I laughed and laughed... Until tears were streaming and I was in danger of wrecking.
Because the puzzle solved itself while I was driving home from a therapy session.
I always did think better on the move.
So now, two and half months or so since L came to visit and over a year since I pledged allegiance to the Raven in my life, I've turned over a new leaf. I meditate all the time, usually daily. I make time to be still and be grateful. I remember that every story, every character, is a gift. They're bits and pieces of magic the Universe is giving me, trusting I'll do what's right for them and with them. I don't think I ever forgot that, not entirely, but I think I was too focused on what I wanted to do with them instead of glorying in who they were and are. Just as I'd forgotten to respect myself for who I am, and not only what I do.
I still see my energy worker, my therapist, and I continue to maintain my health across all fields. I have sage in a seashell, I have bay leaves over my doors, and I have a new desk that's big enough to hold all my concurrent plot lines. I've stopped thinking about what I'll do with a story when it's done and started thinking about rolling around with the characters while they're with me, and I can't make notes and write fast enough. New ideas and old ideas are cropping up in my garden, and I tend them every day.
The anxiety is still with me, and always will be, I suppose, to one degree or another. It's managed now, though, through spirituality, yoga, and medication. The only thing the meds did to me was intensify some already fairly intense dreams. No worries; I've got a journal on the nightstand just in case. I discovered that with the medication it was actually terribly simple: I was so worried about what the meds would do to me that I didn't stop to think about what the uncontrolled anxiety was doing to my ability to work. Once I made that connection in my head, down the pill went without hesitation.
Because I will always do anything for the stories. Anything.
I still chat with L; I consider us friends, if of a strange variety. I keep my copy of Dream Hunters close by on a shelf.
Mostly importantly of all, though, I still have my Raven.
He claims I helped him change his life, but I'm not sure he understands how much he's done to help me change mine. Maybe these blog posts will help. Maybe not. He's about as stubborn and obstinate as I am, really. It's why we understand one another so well.
One thing's for damned sure, though: if he ever calls me up and says, "Hey, I'm thinking we should..."
I will be saying "Sure" before he even finishes the sentence.
Follow the Raven.
Thank you so much for reading!
Much love & light,
Kelly Wyre enjoys reading and writing all manner of fiction, ranging from horror to romance. She used to work in advertising but is now happily chained to her writing desk and laptop. She believes she's here to tell stories and to connect people with them. She's written several novels, novellas, and short stories and has no plans on stopping anytime soon.
Kelly relishes the soft and cuddly and the sharp and bloody with equal amounts of enthusiasm. She's a coffee addict, an avid movie lover, a chronic night owl, and she loves a good thunderstorm. Currently Kelly resides in the southeastern United States.
Meet Me at the Gates by Kelly Wyre
Outer Banks bookstore owner Hyacinth Silver Fox has a secret millennia in the making: her soul was magically entwined with another, and at night she dreams of every lifetime they've ever spent together. The rules of their magic are simple: Hydee always knows her lover, but he, or she, doesn't remember her. It's up to Hydee to find and make her soulmate see they are destined for each other, and this lifetime is no different, but there's one problem: her soulmate is Theo Monk, heartthrob actor and Hollywood's sometime-infamous badboy. Hydee's hope of reuniting is wearing thin, but she has no idea how dire the situation really is.
Because meanwhile in California, Theo Monk is losing his mind. Anxiety and paranoia rule his life, along with his on-again-off-again girlfriend and her entourage. When fear and frustration push him to an edge, Theo cuts and runs as far from his problems as he can without knowing Fate's giving him one last shot to unite with the only person who can help him. Hydee and Theo must save one another before hope runs out and Hydee's despair and Theo's fear keep them apart forever.