Along with Carol—and the urge her transformation awakened to offer up my life in a very personal way—another mysterious force was at play in creating the book. Writing regularly in my journal, I began to notice that the thundering-from-the-heart words spoke in a language that was both mine and greater than mine alone. This voice that seemed wiser and more universal than my own carried a heady hit of energy that often zapped me as I wrote. I came to realize it was almost certainly the same energy that is drawing us mortals—inexorably, if we let it—from the unreal to the real, from darkness to light, and from death to immortality, as the saint who inspired me used to say.
Some call this sacred energy Divine Mother Kundalini Shakti. Shakti is an Indian Goddess who represents the universal source of the love and light we all essentially are. My years as a yoga teacher and disciple of an Indian guru predisposed me to visualizing strong inspirational energy as an Indian Goddess. I can’t say I’ve ever actually seen her, except in the ubiquitous statues and drawings throughout India. Still, I daresay it is Divine Mother, a sacred feminine presence, who has been coming through to help me on my way—so that I might help you on yours.
Shakti came to me, I suppose, because, though I kicked and screamed and denied a lot along the way, I allowed her to come. I was willing finally to face down my fear—of writing, of seeming to set myself up as a spiritual teacher and of showing up so large in the world I could be shot down in a big way too. As you’ll see if you read the book, I learned to quiet my mind enough to attend to the signs and listen to my heart and gut, where divinity in whatever form manifests. I sat myself down to do what I came to do. And that’s all I want for you from this book—that you attune to your heart and gut, and risk living and loving from the terrifying edge where your inner guidance leads you.