This post originally appeared in my old metaphysical blog, the Mystic Review:
As everyone who follows this blog knows, I am the quintessential seeker. My personal search for spiritual truth began in 2008 with the dream I have come to call The Spirit Dream and has continued over and under a myriad of byways, tributaries and road blocks.
In some ways that search that search will never end. In others, however, I have finally come home. To a place I never really knew. That place is Christianity which is probably as much of a surprise to me as it is anyone.
My homecoming began with Mary Magdalene. Not with any one Mary Magdalene event really (though it did seem that way once or twice) but with a steady stream of lesser events. I kept stumbling over Mary Magdalene in conversation, on TV and in fiction. Like it or not, I saw there was a pattern.
I decided to give the Christian faith one more try. But having been all over the spiritual spectrum for the last nine years I decided I should test it. So I asked for a sign.
The next day I went to the flea market with my son. I had 8 dollars which is less than I usually bring with me. I didn’t expect it to be a good day because it was raining and there weren’t that many people selling at all. As a matter of fact, we had to walk big distances through the puddles to the few vendors that had set up.
One of the first things I saw was one of those old plaster Blessed Mother statues. For some reason I can’t really explain, I’d been wanting one of these for awhile but usually they’re chipped or expensive or both. I thought this one was probably more than I had to spend but I asked the price anyway. It was $5 which was surprising. I bought it without trying to negotiate at all.
A little further on, I saw a cold cast bronze St. Brigid’s cross that was made in Ireland. I asked the vendor how much it cost and he said a quarter. And then, when I couldn’t find any change, he refused to take my dollar and told me I could have it for free – which almost never happens at the flea market. Before I left, the seller asked me what the cross was and seemed curious about St. Brigid was so I told him a bit about it. And I started to get a really good feeling about the day.
At the last stand a woman had a lovely crucifix / holy water font candelabra and I thought well I’m a on a roll with the religious stuff but she’ll probably want at least $10 but she didn’t. She wanted $3. So I got that too.
On the long wet ride home, I realized that I had bought three religious items representing three associations with the same faith and that I got those three items for the exact amount of money that I had with me. It seemed meaningful to me that if the nice man who wanted to know about St. Brigid hadn’t made me take the cross for free I wouldn’t have had enough.
So I considered it sign.
Afterwards I thought about this change in direction a lot because, while I feel my guidance is usually good, I often misread things and even I am getting tired of all the changes I have made.
I had the Spirit Dream nine years ago this summer. In a lot of ways I feel that dream changed my life. But it also started me on a long and winding quest to figure out just what all of it meant. I have made lots of wrong turns but every time I decide to just give up something happens. And that day at the flea market, I believe that something happened.
I still have a long way to go but I believe that this is an important piece, maybe even the defining piece, of the puzzle.
Wish me luck.
*This post is mostly excerpted from an email I wrote to my dear friend Tara because when no one else asks, she does <3