Metamorphosis through Grace
As I look back now on my life, from the vantage point of many years of experience and a “forever Home” on top of a mountain that is literally where heaven and earth meet, I bow down with the deepest of respect and love to the divine presence of Grace within me that has unquestionably been the invisible force and thread leading me from the darkness of illusion to the Light of Truth. I believe that each person has something I call an “O.W.” A fitting acronym for Original Wound, that place deep within our consciousness where – no matter how much work we have done on ourselves or how far we think we’ve come – when triggered causes us to react as if someone had poured scalding oil on an open sore. Mine centered on the overwhelming sense of being wrong.
I was an unplanned baby. My mother and father, not even out of college yet, were unprepared in every way to be parents. They named me Elizabeth Rochelle. And my surname was Rubin. E.R.R. Even before I had words to describe it, I felt like a mistake. I had distant memories of being born a butterfly. But the adults in my world, all conditioned and controlled by subconscious, unexamined judgements and limiting beliefs, couldn’t handle a child whose very essence embodied joy and freedom. Thus, uncomfortable in their own skin, they forced me into a metaphorical cocoon from which it would take me years to extricate myself.
But even from inside the cocoon, I had a powerful influence on people.
It was as though my very presence reminded them, painfully, of everything they innately knew was possible for them, but that they had not yet found the courage to pursue. I would come along in people’s lives and simply by being me, would push them off the plateaus they had been resting on, reminding them that – if they were not yet at the summit of their individual mountains – there was still further to climb.
For decades I suffered enormous guilt when this would happen. And I would run from the people who I imagined I had hurt. But in 1985, two events changed the course of my life forever. The first was my marriage to a Japanese man, and my new surname became Urabe which, in Japanese, means, “Family of Divine Origin”. The second event was a meeting with destiny in the form of a Realized Spiritual Master. And in the decades to follow, as my commitment and devotion deepened and my surface wounds healed, I got closer and closer to my Original Wound of feeling like a mistake and of not being able to trust the Voice of Intuition within my own Soul that I knew to be my true Self.
I just celebrated my 59th birthday. And I gave myself a priceless gift; permission to be happy. As Who I Am. When I push people out of their comfort zones now, I stick around and offer a helping hand if it is welcomed. I rejoice and live up to the current initials of my name, E.R.U which, also in Japanese, is a verb meaning “to receive”. And I now fully embrace and embody the last four lines of a poem I penned in 2000:
There is no imperfection
in the being of a caterpillar
But when its time comes…
the butterfly will emerge.