30 Days of Self Love
Day One: Enola – that’s alone spelled backwards
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I headed out of Longmont, Colorado on a seemingly sunny day. It was 10 a.m. and the trip shined like a diamond on front of me. As soon as Ollie and I crossed the Wyoming border it became apparent we were driving into a storm. The grey, swirling clouds seemed to reach the heavens themselves and touch down on the stretch of pavement before me.
As we drove further into the darkness, first the winds began howl. I held onto the steering wheel even tighter to keep my truck in the lane. Next the snow began to fall in large, heavy chunks. I’ve never liked Wyoming much. The energy always feels dense and seems to have jagged edges even when the sun is shining.
The winds began to come in from different directions. Two birds flying above me seemed to be flying in circles, stuck in the opposition of winds creating a whirlpool in the sky. It reminded me of two fish I once saw on a scuba dive in Sabang, Philippines. We were thirty meters deep in rough waters, making our way around an underwater island.
I was at the front of the line behind the dive master who asked us all to stay close to the reef so we wouldn’t get dragged out in the strong currents surrounding us. We were making our way around the underwater island, and I was holding onto my dive partner’s hand for for dear life, feeling the pull of the current pulling at my fins.
Then the dive master stopped. Because he couldn’t talk under water, he pointed. There were two small fish, spiraling in the current. He motioned for the scuba group to turn around and we made our way back to the boat. Once we got aboard, he told me in broken English that was his sign to go no further. Seems to me sensing is not simply making life more sensual but also a guidepost whether to move forward, turn around or create a new path. I watched the birds above me make a new path.
I should also note that driving is an interesting task for me. Since I was a child I could see and sense energies around me, but something shifted when I moved to Colorado in January 2016 – I began to see energetic designs physically. Just as one would see a stop sign, I see energetic designs in clear, physical form. It would come and go at first. Now it is a twenty-four-hour-a-day way of sensing and perceiving. I have become accustomed to it during the last year and would certainly miss it if it went away.
So here I was driving in forty plus mile per hour winds in a mini blizzard, watching the energy designs and birds making their way through the wind. I began to cry. Tears poured out of my eyes. It’s just so amazing to be alive, right here, right now taking it all in. And, this life - for all linear time purposes - is my last time to do it in physical form on this planet. I wanted to take in every last bit of it in. Not just for me, but for Enola.
I cannot drive the western United States without thinking about Enola. Enola is one of my closest life incarnations. She/I was born on November 25, 1898 (my birthday in this life is November 27th, although my due date was the 25th) in Chicago, Illinois.
Enola’s greatest love was playing the piano, which she taught herself very early on. Her second love was adventure. This life seemed full of promise to be a woman at the turn of the twentieth century. She could wear pants instead of stifling dresses. Women were allowed to play music. Trains provided transportation options not found in previous incarnations. Enola loved trains. She also knew this invention called a car would occur in her lifetime.
Now I know lives run simultaneous, but I am going to talk about them in linear time for a bit to keep our human minds with us on the journey. I write about Enola in greater detail in Becoming Sar’h: Book Two, but for the sake of brevity, will only summarize here.
Enola attended college in Kentucky and the moved down to San Angelo, Texas. She loved the expanse and the untamed sense of the western United States. In Texas, through the efforts of her oldest sister, Helen, she volunteered in the Suffrage movement. For non-Americans, that was the movement that gained women the right to vote. She taught piano lessons but desperately wanted to play on stage and to play ragtime and jazz, not classical. The 1920s were an amazing time for music, and Enola was thrilled.
About that time she married Carl. She was not in love with him but loved him dearly the way you would a best friend. Carl knew her. He liked her tomboy nature and agreed to go out to California, so she could play in a Vaudeville theater. In her family, you had to have a husband to go out to California, although it still wasn’t acceptable that she should want to preform in a vaudeville theater. Her family called her a gypsy and often made fun of her, but never her sisters Alice and Helen.
Enola was twenty-five years old when she and Carl made the long journey out to California. It was not a confortable trip. The car broke down many times and the weather was wild, but Enola was madly in love with the Wild West and all it’s promises. She was in love with the discomfort of travel and what it brought out in the people around her.
I don’t have room here to write Enola’s whole story. You will have to wait for the book, however I will tell you were Enola’s story ends and mine begins. After some disappointments, Enola and Carl left California. In her grief that the world was not what she wanted it to be, she found solace in the Theosophy movement. She held meetings in her home and discussed in great detail Madame Blavatsky’s books. The information seemed so familiar, so accessible to her. She remembered everything through reading them.
When Enola died in 1936, at the age of thirty seven, she did so with awareness of where she was going – back to the bridge of flowers – and she knew she would come back to Earth when it was safe for a woman to travel alone, to be anything she wanted to be. Enola also knew she would incarnate in the same blood line, and asked her sister Helen to set up some sort of investment for her that would pay off in her future life. Money set aside for travel.
Enola was going to come back to the West and experience it on her own terms. Not having very much money in her life, Enola saw money as one thing: FREEDOM. Forget fancy things, money was the fuel for adventure alone, in her eyes.
In this life, Helen was my great-grandmother, my mother’s paternal grandmother. That makes Enola my great-great-aunt. Helen stuck true to her word. Right after my father died, Enola’s investment came through. It is not retirement money, it is not millionaire money, but it is a little monthly stipend that pays for my trips. I’m in awe that Enola held the awareness to set something up like this, and that Helen followed through. I come from amazing women...
I’m finally out of the snowstorm and the density of Wyoming and back into the present physical reality. I round the corner into Utah’s Ogden Canyon. It is one of the most stunning pieces of highway in the United States. The sun is shining through the trees. I have the windows down to smell the fresh air. Ollie wakes up from his nap to join in the sensing. A train clanks by me on the right, and I think of Enola and everything she has done for me. I sense how much I love her. Her struggles, her honesty, her love of life. And I realize I am loving me and witnessing how truly grand that is.
This is part of the 30 Days of Self Love series.
Read Day Zero HERE.
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