The problem is, I am a filmmaker. So whenever anything interesting happens, I immediately want to turn it into a media spectacle.
So in the summer of 2014, when dead people started telling me precise, detailed things that made perfect sense to other people, I immediately said - “Great! Let’s make a documentary about me becoming a Medium! Who wants to produce this?”
Ridiculous.
But, in the mid-teens of this new century when all the lenses were fixed on some weird reality that created a TV show, you can understand why I might have thought this was a good idea. Fortunately, that summer, while visiting Seattle, I told a dear friend of mine this idea and he said,
“Do you think it might be wise to protect this tender gift and develop it first?”
Huh. What about my followers? (I didn't have followers, I still don't). The word tender caught me. The idea of a gift. What if it's not up to me to exploit something as magical and mystical and as kooky-pants as this?
“Do you think it might be wise to protect this tender gift and develop it first?”
As David considered it further, his face lit up. “Oh, oh wait, hold on - don’t you live near Berkeley?”
“Yes, sorta, Berkeley adjacent.”
“Oh, that’s great! You are incredibly fortunate, Jane, Lynda teaches her energy class there. Oh, Iʻm excited for you, your life is about to change.”
Arguably it was already churning with change, but I said, “OK great?”
David gave me the information about his Energy Class teacher - he had studied with her for more than 6 years, and was still being tutored by someone she had trained up to be work along side her. For years heʻd flown down to California to work with her until her protege moved up near Seattle.
He said, “Don't look her up on the internet, she’s not there. I'll give you her number and her email, but you just call her.”
I was like, “What with a rotary phone? Who calls anyone?” He laughed. “She’s a really interesting person, and she’s the perfect person to help you. You need to get some basic skills in place before you’re medium-ready.”
Harumph. Ok. I was still a bit starry-eyed about my filmmaker-becomes-a-medium reality show, but, his eyes were soft and my heart was caught by the ʻprotect the giftʻ concept. I put my imaginary camera down.
She taught a class that went on for 2 years. Once a month, it lasted all day, for two years. I was like, Holy shit, how do you commit to anything for 2 years? And at $150 a month, the math was intimidating. But. I felt I was following good direction,
So I used a cell phone to call a landline.
When she answered, I bubbled my enthusiasm at her to join her class. She didnʻt respond in kind, which I found to be a bit curt, even rude. I guess she wasnʻt impressed with my personality. I was like, Dang, if I’m going into the great beyond with her flowing robes leading the way, shouldn’t I like her?
David reassured me. “She’s boundaried.” Oh, no wonder, that’s very uncomfortable for me - no one in my life has good boundaries. This will be weird.
Lynda did have some flowing clothing, but she was also super grounded and her voice matched. Deep. Resonant. She proposed all kinds of incredible and outrageous things with a completely straight face and zero apology. I think that’s part of the charm of her, she’s absolutely convinced and by proxy, so are you. No one is woo, no one is shaming anyone. Her attitude is ʻIt’s obvious and you’re welcome.ʻ
She wore a bunch of interesting jewelry which she only donned while teaching (which was cool to me), I liked the click and swish of it, it definitely had juice but it wasnʻt sparkly. I donʻt think I ever saw a bit of make up on her face, she was the most no-bullshit person Iʻd ever witnessed. She emanated strength and you know, truth. So when she said outrageous shit lIke. “Treeʻs can help you, just ask” weʻd all just casually nod and say, “Of course.”
She once told a story of having a really tough time, she was just ‘in it’ and asked a nearby tree for help. The tree, in response, slurped her. She felt it reach over and pull all of the gunk, darkness, the ick, the negativity off of her; with a slurp. I imagined that she was a popsicle that hit the ground and had lost her shiny glory to a layer of dirt, grit and sticks. The tree had gleefully licked off the dirt until she was back to colorful and sweet.
Seemed fair enough. I just needed to give that a try.
-Tune in next week for more Energy class stories; how this unlikely hero changed the course of my life.
Ahhhh, what a perfect representation it is of energy class, of Lynda, and the mysterious ways we are drawn into her beautiful teachings. Yes to the needing to get grounded and equipped before taking our gifts into the world. How lucky are we to have trained at the source? I'm excited for the rest of the slurp story too. <3
But what we really want to know is have you now slurped a tree? 🌳👅 Love your voice!