Who Am I... they?

Fred here! My name is actually Alfred Edwin, I was named after two childhood friends of my dad that were killed in WWII. Some say Alfred means elf counselor… not sure about elves, but I seem to gravitate towards people in that way.

I grew up in rural Kansas, the son of a State Policeman. Somehow I ended up in Cincinnati for my high school years, from there to Chicago, then a three year army hitch in Germany. But through it all, Kansas was and always will be home. I am native to this beautiful prairie. I say it with such regularity it must be true: I feel like I’ve lived here a thousand lives.

But “place” only answers the logistics of who we are. For the deeper spiritual answers we have to enter a more numinous realm. And for me that involves the journey inward, to the quiet place where God is tangible. Several years ago I was fortunate to encounter two incredible souls, one a jhana-yogi the other a somatic masseuse. The yogi taught me how to meditate and the masseuse taught me to go deep into a mystical place where truth towered like a mountain. Cheyanna the masseuse, while plying her healing touch, took me to a somber, solitary place where I saw myself… not as Alfred, but as spirit on a journey. She asked me who this spirit was, and I immediately saw a warrior, a weary and aged warrior. She sensed this also and guided me into a meditation on what spiritually was happening to my soul’s identity. I don’t remember all of the details, but in the end I realized I was evolving in some epic and cosmic way. No longer did I want to fight, conquer and battle in wars large and small, but I felt an intense need to release it all in some creative and expressive way. Cheyanna helped me see that writing was my new sword, and that my weary heart and soul were filled with words and thoughts aching to take flight.

For several years I have been attending the Shambhala Mountain Centers programs for writers. I go there because the sacred atmosphere is charged with clarity. I’ve met many dear kindred souls, creative spirits, on their own similar journeys. Our teacher Susan Piver seems to personify those writers who understand that meditation and the numinous realm of creative thought have a commonality. That is… if you can allow the silence of meditation to quiet the noise of living, the song of creative verse will rise. To be sequestered with artists in an environ of sacred clarity is, for me, a wild and sustained breath of pure joy.

On my last trip to Shambhala I again met many wonderful writers. As the group first gathers, I always look around at these kindred souls and I’m amazed at the idea that I do not know any of them… yet in some ways I know them ALL. As voices begin to sound and personalities unfold, the truths of each of them slowly unravel. Most are guarded, a few will never break out, but all will play their part in the group dynamic. In meditation, the group seems to reverberate energy like an aura. Being apart of that feeds my evolving creative soul.

All good things come to an end, and as I pack up my room the night before I’m always conscious of who in the group I will miss the most… who’s personality, heart and spirit were a brief gift that I won’t want to let go of. This time there were several bright lights in the group. Nikki was the incredibly gentle spirit, whose soft words and compassionate smile always seemed to tiptoe in a wise and silent way. There was big John, domineering, boisterous and alive; He knew his direction and wore certainty like a pair of cowboy boots.

But on the day we parted two people Carol and Chantill were the most difficult to say goodbye to. Why? I do not know. There was chemistry with each that I’m sure some “ologist” could clarify in pseudo-scientific terms. But given my deep and core beliefs in the journey of souls I know in my own mind they were and are apart of something so much deeper. What? I don’t know, I simply trust in the ride. But they are my new amigos and together we seem to be TresAnimus, a three-fold soul group with an unknown frontier of adventure ahead.

Carol was the lady who sat in front of me on one of our first meetings. I was amazed at her beautiful silky blond hair. I thought to myself, this is certainly what real angel hair looked like. As I met her for the first time two things hit me, first was her piercing eyes and second was her electric smile. She was so curious, so sincere, she asked brilliant questions and I loved her self confidence. She was a woman to be admired: proud, intelligent, feminine and wholesome. I still see her smile in my minds eye one month later.

Chantill was the lady across from me at the lunch table. She too seemed to carry herself in a wise and confident way. A bright brilliant smile and, again, piercing eyes that seemed to cut right to the gateway of soul. Her laugh was so infectious. On her last day we had the good fortune to meditate together in the shrine room. There in the quiet and in the deeply spiritual realm I met the Divine Feminine. It was not words or action or even a heavenly choir, it was simply an ethereal presence that touched me deeply. My personal quest for the past ten years has been to find this elusive spirit and on this day I think I was fortunate to encounter Her. I had one other encounter, but I’ll write about it another day.

These two women seem to know me… and together we’ve decided to write together form the Inside…out. I look forward to our adventure, and I hope I can live up to their wisdom… their sacred Feminine.