Even though I had a wonderful elder who taught me that everything was alive, I was unable to assimilate that awareness and my experience of souls into the demands of everyday life. This is the book I wish I’d had.
The first time I tried to write what would be Gift of the Dreamtime, I was seven years old. I called it “The Incontrovertible Truth.” I don’t even know where I learned that word. My story was hand-written on wide-ruled notebook paper in a powder blue paper binder. That conviction and drive to put it all into words persisted into its final publication nineteen years ago, 1 September 2004 by Spilled Candy Books.
That revelation sat hard a few weeks ago, and it left me exploring who I was when I wrote it and what has changed for me now. By the time Gift of the Dreamtime was fully conceived, I recognized its context as my initiatory wound where soul tending is concerned. The whole time through its writing I questioned whether I should be writing it to share. Was it enough to just put it into words for myself? Every time I heard, “No.”