I am a 60+ year old grandfather, fortunate to be married to a wonderful woman for over 35 years, and with four beautiful adult children. What follows is the story of my long and difficult struggle to finally come to realize the truth about the existence of the Divine and my own nature. It is this truth that healed me. I hope you find strength and encouragement from my account.
My life has been far from easy. However, I now believe that I am responsible for, and essentially chose to experience, everything that has happened to me. I have no doubt that all of the pain and confusion have had a purpose, and the end justifies the means. It has taken me many years to come to understand that my struggles have not been primarily about “me”. Rather, they have been about my relationships to my “inner child” and my fellow human beings – in short, they have been about love. My purpose is to share what I have learned, to help others come to know the truth of who they really are.
My understanding of who I am has changed a great deal over the course of my struggles. Similarly, my understanding of God has also changed. I still encounter some internal resistance to the word “God”, because it remains tinged with false ideas instilled in my childhood, which caused me pain. Therefore, I sometimes choose to use other terms such as “Divine”, “Universe”, “Ground of Being”, “Source”, or even “Goddess”. These all refer to the same unconditionally-loving and intelligent creative force from which we spring, whose existence has been made known to me.
In 1999, I self-published an account of my life, using the pseudonym Robert Keith (my first and middle names), which described the spiritual roller coaster I had been riding up to that point. Titled “Kundalini and the Morning Star”, the book was available through my former website (breadcasters.org). ‘Kundalini’ is a Sanskrit term that refers to the primordial spiritual energy that normally lays dormant at the base of every person's spine, while the ‘Morning Star’ refers to Jesus (from Revelation 22:16: “I, Jesus, have sent my angel to give you this testimony for the churches. I am the root and the offspring of David, and the bright Morning Star”).
As noted elsewhere on this site, I have since revised and updated the book, and have made it available on Amazon. The book amplifies and provides detail, background and theory concerning my story. It is my testimony to the reality and healing truth of God and Jesus, who are love, and are one and the same.
As described in some detail in my book, as a child I was subjected to physical, emotional and religious abuse by mainly well-meaning parents who simply did not know any better. We are always doing the best we are able given our personal circumstances. I tried to earn love through performance, and was an over-achiever. In public school, I fell head over heels for a girl who had initially indicated that she “liked” me, but I lacked self-confidence and eventually felt rejected. This produced a wound that I carried for many years, but with a very surprising follow-up, as described in my book. I enrolled in medical school, but left prior to the end of my first year because I knew I was too emotionally insecure to deal directly with patients. I returned to my home town to complete a post-graduate degree, and somehow found the courage to accept a scholarship in Finland, the country of my ancestors. It was there that I met and married a beautiful French girl, and she returned with me to Canada, where I obtained a secure government job.
I continued to live in denial of the depth of my inner angst until, at the age of 29, I started to experience excruciating panic attacks shortly after the birth of my second child and first son. Panic attacks have been described as “a window to the frightened child”. Because my childhood experience with religion had been so emotionally painful, I could not turn to “God” for help. Instead, I reluctantly made an appointment with a psychiatrist, who, after listening to me describe my predicament, bluntly told me “You think you’re shit”. He diagnosed “free-floating anxiety”, and prescribed both a tranquilizer and an antidepressant.
In spite of the medication, my downward spiral continued. I had little appetite and slept even less, and had great difficulty concentrating on my job. Eventually, I became so distraught that I began to consider that suicide might be my only escape. The thought of leaving a widow and two young fatherless children fed my depression.
During this period, I had a very disturbing dream, reflective of the degree to which my religiously-punitive upbringing had so negatively affected my self-image. I dreamed that I overheard my father talking to my mother in the kitchen of my childhood home, and he asked her “Where is the beast?”. He was referring to me.
Finally, one winter evening, I pulled on my overcoat and went out into the darkness and wandered aimlessly in the cold and blowing snow. I knew that my thought processes were badly screwed up, and that I couldn’t fix them myself. Utterly desperate, I begged for help, not from the God of my childhood, but from the nameless and seemingly impersonal “creative force” behind the universe. However, I didn’t really believe that I would get the help that I needed, and I dejectedly returned home, climbed the stairs to my bedroom, and sprawled across the bed. Exhausted, I lay on my stomach, and essentially gave up and momentarily stopped thinking about anything.
No sooner had I done that than my baby girl, not yet two, came into the room, climbed up onto the bed and plopped herself on my back, exclaiming “daddy”. At that instant, I was transformed. It literally felt as though a ton of weight had been miraculously lifted from my shoulders. I felt free and light, and so very, very right. For the first time that I could remember, I was completely free of anxiety; yet it was an intensely familiar feeling, like I had come home. I picked up a bedside copy of “The Prophet” (which does not refer to Islam's Prophet Muhammad), a recent gift from my wife, written by Kahlil Gibran. I read “Your children are not your children; they are the sons and daughters of life’s longing for itself”, and I was amazed by the truth and beauty of these words. When my wife came upstairs to bed, I told her that I believed in God, who had answered my prayer. I knew I had no need of medication, and I quickly fell into a deep sleep. I dreamed that my brother was spraying me with a garden hose. I laughed and laughed.
The next morning, I awakened refreshed and alert. My breakfast cereal tasted wonderful. When I walked to the bus stop, I felt as if I were floating. The faces of my fellow passengers looked radiant, as if each were an expression of the Divine. At work, I began to write a routine report, and my hand glided effortlessly across the page. What was previously a chore was now a complete joy. I was totally absorbed in the “now”.
However, shortly before lunch, I suddenly found myself questioning how and why I was experiencing this state of complete freedom from anxiety. Immediately, I felt myself become re-immersed in fear and panic. I felt very unclean. This was extremely depressing, but at least I now knew that there was hope to be had beyond the confines of my personal ego.
I had been raised in a fundamentalist so-called Christian environment, but later had rejected organized religion. My desperate quest for relief from the relentless panic attacks drove me to investigate all of the world’s major faiths. Which one, I asked, represented “truth” and could possibly help me? I knew that Jesus had been a good man, but was he any more than that? Having not read the Bible in many years, I decided to open the New Testament at random, as a sort of test, and read the first line my eyes fell upon. It was “Take up your cross daily and follow me”. Surprised and impressed, I decided to try a similar test with the Old Testament (which, as any free-thinking person must admit, contains some rather dreadful as well as some frankly unbelievable passages). This time I read “Cast your bread upon the waters”. It was this instruction that was to become a main impetus behind my writing a book and setting up this website.
But my panic attacks continued for several more months, until I had a discussion with my wise older sister and came to the sudden realization that what I was going through was actually proof that God existed and God loved me. This revelation was accompanied by a profound and ecstatic physical experience, which can perhaps best be described as an increasingly intense orgasmic electrical current running up my spine and seemingly out the top of my head. It was an outpouring of love for God, in response to the knowledge that I was loved. I knew that there was no death. When I described the experience to my sister, she told me it was “Kundalini”, a term I was completely unfamiliar with at the time.
Although I was (and remain) deeply appreciative that my panic attacks were over, I was by no means out of the woods. Indeed, my active spiritual search has continued for 35 years. During this period, I have experienced some more very difficult times, but I have also been blessed over and over.
The following is a summary, in essentially chronological order, of what I consider to be the more significant events subsequent to my initial Kundalini experience. Additional details are found in Kundalini and the Morning Star.
It is approximately at this point that my original book ended. However, I still had much to experience and learn. As described in Kundalini and the Morning Star, Jesus was to come to play an even more important role in my ultimate healing. Jesus was crucified, but, as was demonstrated to me in a remarkable way, he is very much alive.
My life has been far from easy. However, I now believe that I am responsible for, and essentially chose to experience, everything that has happened to me. I have no doubt that all of the pain and confusion have had a purpose, and the end justifies the means. It has taken me many years to come to understand that my struggles have not been primarily about “me”. Rather, they have been about my relationships to my “inner child” and my fellow human beings – in short, they have been about love. My purpose is to share what I have learned, to help others come to know the truth of who they really are.
My understanding of who I am has changed a great deal over the course of my struggles. Similarly, my understanding of God has also changed. I still encounter some internal resistance to the word “God”, because it remains tinged with false ideas instilled in my childhood, which caused me pain. Therefore, I sometimes choose to use other terms such as “Divine”, “Universe”, “Ground of Being”, “Source”, or even “Goddess”. These all refer to the same unconditionally-loving and intelligent creative force from which we spring, whose existence has been made known to me.
In 1999, I self-published an account of my life, using the pseudonym Robert Keith (my first and middle names), which described the spiritual roller coaster I had been riding up to that point. Titled “Kundalini and the Morning Star”, the book was available through my former website (breadcasters.org). ‘Kundalini’ is a Sanskrit term that refers to the primordial spiritual energy that normally lays dormant at the base of every person's spine, while the ‘Morning Star’ refers to Jesus (from Revelation 22:16: “I, Jesus, have sent my angel to give you this testimony for the churches. I am the root and the offspring of David, and the bright Morning Star”).
As noted elsewhere on this site, I have since revised and updated the book, and have made it available on Amazon. The book amplifies and provides detail, background and theory concerning my story. It is my testimony to the reality and healing truth of God and Jesus, who are love, and are one and the same.
As described in some detail in my book, as a child I was subjected to physical, emotional and religious abuse by mainly well-meaning parents who simply did not know any better. We are always doing the best we are able given our personal circumstances. I tried to earn love through performance, and was an over-achiever. In public school, I fell head over heels for a girl who had initially indicated that she “liked” me, but I lacked self-confidence and eventually felt rejected. This produced a wound that I carried for many years, but with a very surprising follow-up, as described in my book. I enrolled in medical school, but left prior to the end of my first year because I knew I was too emotionally insecure to deal directly with patients. I returned to my home town to complete a post-graduate degree, and somehow found the courage to accept a scholarship in Finland, the country of my ancestors. It was there that I met and married a beautiful French girl, and she returned with me to Canada, where I obtained a secure government job.
I continued to live in denial of the depth of my inner angst until, at the age of 29, I started to experience excruciating panic attacks shortly after the birth of my second child and first son. Panic attacks have been described as “a window to the frightened child”. Because my childhood experience with religion had been so emotionally painful, I could not turn to “God” for help. Instead, I reluctantly made an appointment with a psychiatrist, who, after listening to me describe my predicament, bluntly told me “You think you’re shit”. He diagnosed “free-floating anxiety”, and prescribed both a tranquilizer and an antidepressant.
In spite of the medication, my downward spiral continued. I had little appetite and slept even less, and had great difficulty concentrating on my job. Eventually, I became so distraught that I began to consider that suicide might be my only escape. The thought of leaving a widow and two young fatherless children fed my depression.
During this period, I had a very disturbing dream, reflective of the degree to which my religiously-punitive upbringing had so negatively affected my self-image. I dreamed that I overheard my father talking to my mother in the kitchen of my childhood home, and he asked her “Where is the beast?”. He was referring to me.
Finally, one winter evening, I pulled on my overcoat and went out into the darkness and wandered aimlessly in the cold and blowing snow. I knew that my thought processes were badly screwed up, and that I couldn’t fix them myself. Utterly desperate, I begged for help, not from the God of my childhood, but from the nameless and seemingly impersonal “creative force” behind the universe. However, I didn’t really believe that I would get the help that I needed, and I dejectedly returned home, climbed the stairs to my bedroom, and sprawled across the bed. Exhausted, I lay on my stomach, and essentially gave up and momentarily stopped thinking about anything.
No sooner had I done that than my baby girl, not yet two, came into the room, climbed up onto the bed and plopped herself on my back, exclaiming “daddy”. At that instant, I was transformed. It literally felt as though a ton of weight had been miraculously lifted from my shoulders. I felt free and light, and so very, very right. For the first time that I could remember, I was completely free of anxiety; yet it was an intensely familiar feeling, like I had come home. I picked up a bedside copy of “The Prophet” (which does not refer to Islam's Prophet Muhammad), a recent gift from my wife, written by Kahlil Gibran. I read “Your children are not your children; they are the sons and daughters of life’s longing for itself”, and I was amazed by the truth and beauty of these words. When my wife came upstairs to bed, I told her that I believed in God, who had answered my prayer. I knew I had no need of medication, and I quickly fell into a deep sleep. I dreamed that my brother was spraying me with a garden hose. I laughed and laughed.
The next morning, I awakened refreshed and alert. My breakfast cereal tasted wonderful. When I walked to the bus stop, I felt as if I were floating. The faces of my fellow passengers looked radiant, as if each were an expression of the Divine. At work, I began to write a routine report, and my hand glided effortlessly across the page. What was previously a chore was now a complete joy. I was totally absorbed in the “now”.
However, shortly before lunch, I suddenly found myself questioning how and why I was experiencing this state of complete freedom from anxiety. Immediately, I felt myself become re-immersed in fear and panic. I felt very unclean. This was extremely depressing, but at least I now knew that there was hope to be had beyond the confines of my personal ego.
I had been raised in a fundamentalist so-called Christian environment, but later had rejected organized religion. My desperate quest for relief from the relentless panic attacks drove me to investigate all of the world’s major faiths. Which one, I asked, represented “truth” and could possibly help me? I knew that Jesus had been a good man, but was he any more than that? Having not read the Bible in many years, I decided to open the New Testament at random, as a sort of test, and read the first line my eyes fell upon. It was “Take up your cross daily and follow me”. Surprised and impressed, I decided to try a similar test with the Old Testament (which, as any free-thinking person must admit, contains some rather dreadful as well as some frankly unbelievable passages). This time I read “Cast your bread upon the waters”. It was this instruction that was to become a main impetus behind my writing a book and setting up this website.
But my panic attacks continued for several more months, until I had a discussion with my wise older sister and came to the sudden realization that what I was going through was actually proof that God existed and God loved me. This revelation was accompanied by a profound and ecstatic physical experience, which can perhaps best be described as an increasingly intense orgasmic electrical current running up my spine and seemingly out the top of my head. It was an outpouring of love for God, in response to the knowledge that I was loved. I knew that there was no death. When I described the experience to my sister, she told me it was “Kundalini”, a term I was completely unfamiliar with at the time.
Although I was (and remain) deeply appreciative that my panic attacks were over, I was by no means out of the woods. Indeed, my active spiritual search has continued for 35 years. During this period, I have experienced some more very difficult times, but I have also been blessed over and over.
The following is a summary, in essentially chronological order, of what I consider to be the more significant events subsequent to my initial Kundalini experience. Additional details are found in Kundalini and the Morning Star.
- Following years of mental illness and a failed (and childless) marriage, my younger sister committed suicide at the age of 32. I felt somehow responsible (I now understand I was not).
- I decided to become a Christian minister, but then shortly thereafter changed my mind, without really understanding why. I felt that I was rebelling against God’s will. This set off a terrific inner struggle. I became convinced that I was “possessed”, and tried to perform a self-exorcism. This was a failure (to me), and I immediately became terribly despondent and suicidal. My wife called our pastor, and I allowed myself to be admitted to the psychiatric wing of the local hospital. I remained there for six weeks, but was able to spend latter weekends at home with my family. My recovery was sparked when an elderly woman, whom I took to be a volunteer visitor, entered my room and gently asked me what was bothering me. When I told her that I had rejected God, she said “No, you didn’t reject God – you rejected your parents. You need to find out who you are”. This woman was an angel.
- I resigned my government position and moved with my wife and our three children back to my home town, where I immediately obtained a good job with a consulting firm.
- At the age of four, my younger son announced out of the blue that he had chosen my wife and me to be his parents. Intrigued, my wife asked how he had done this. He stated, matter-of-factly, that while in heaven before he was born, he had been allowed to go through one door to pick his parents, and through another door to select his brothers and sisters. We have no knowledge of his having obtained this idea from any external source.
- My wife and I were blessed with our fourth child, a beautiful and healthy baby girl. I knew that she would help me in my search for a lasting inner peace.
- One morning, I became convinced that my older sister (with whom I had been confiding, and who has always been very understanding and supportive during my struggles) and I were meant to be together to help save the world. Without a word to my wife, I drove the several hundred kilometers to my sister’s home, where I found her alone (her husband had departed on some errands). I was disheartened when she gently rejected my proposition. When I asked her if she thought I was crazy, she said no, but that I did appear to be in an altered state of consciousness. Without really knowing why, I told my sister that she was going to suffer, and then I left, and bought flowers for my wife before returning home. That evening, I experienced a very powerful emotional release (like an exorcism) when I finally allowed myself to really feel the depth of the hurt I experienced from having been physically abused by my father.
- A short time later, as I lay awake in bed, my toes began to wiggle and dance spontaneously. Then I felt an electric current climb up my legs, alternating from leg to leg. When it reached the base of my spine, I again felt the extreme pleasure of Kundalini. Then my head began to move in a sideways figure 8 pattern. Suddenly my head bent sharply backward, and the word “kill” (the same word that had obsessively-compulsively been tormenting me over the previous few months) came to my mind, and I became momentarily concerned. But, I reasoned, if the Divine wanted me dead, then my death would be an act of love, and so I resigned myself to Divine will. Immediately, my neck returned to its normal resting position. This was proof to myself that I trusted in God completely, understanding that it is the ego that must die. I drifted peacefully off to sleep, and dreamed of two large, luminous and loving eyes that seemed to be floating in the vastness of space.
- Just before daybreak, I awakened to a mysterious sound I had never heard before. It was like a “thrumming” in several different tones, a sound of power yet peace, and it give me the impression that I was listening to the very energy of creation. Shortly thereafter, our infant daughter (who slept between my wife and me) awakened and called for me. When I turned and looked into her eyes, I was entranced, for I saw the Divine. Then I laughed, and she laughed.
- At about 8 a.m., I hopped out from beneath the covers and was surprised to discover how cold the house was (this was March in northern Ontario). The previous fall, I had replaced our old mercury switch thermostat with an electronic model, which was programmed to cool the house to 18 degrees C during the night, but warm it up to 20 degrees C by 6:30 a.m. It had been running perfectly. Perhaps the battery had simply failed. I hobbled (the soles of my feet were quite tender from all the activity during the night) into the kitchen to check the thermostat. The display was correct as far as the time and date were concerned, meaning the battery was still functioning. But the temperature indicator read only 17 degrees C. I pushed the manual temperature adjust button until it read 20 degrees C, hoping that this would ignite the furnace. As soon as I released the button, however, the indicator simply returned to 17 degrees C. The furnace itself must be malfunctioning, I surmised, so I went downstairs to the basement and removed the cover to the electrical control panel to investigate. Spontaneously, I reached out to the control box with my right hand, and the instant my finger touched it, the furnace ignited. Although I was momentarily startled, it immediately occurred to me that this was a sign that the Universe would make divine power available to those who would serve in love. The furnace ran perfectly from that point on, with the original battery still in the thermostat.
- A few nights later, I lay awake in bed trying to discern divine will for me. How was I to go about using my understanding to help others? As I have stated, I believed that the Universe would make healing power available to those who would serve in love, but in what manner? Then suddenly it came to me (how could I have been so blind?) - the power had to be unconditional love, the very nature of the creative force. The instant that this revelation occurred to me, my younger son, who was asleep at the foot of our bed, suddenly sat bolt upright and shouted “Yes! Yes! My name is John!” (although his name isn't John), and then quietly settled back into his blankets.
- My sister’s only son had been traveling alone in Greece. He had promised to telephone home regularly, but my sister and her husband had not heard from him in over two weeks. The last they had heard, he was planning to climb Mount Olympus. They became fearful that he had met with misfortune, and they contacted Interpol to commence a search. During this time, my sister remembered that I had told her that she would suffer, and suffer she did. This was also the first time she had ever seen her husband cry. Finally, their son called. He apologetically said that he had simply forgotten about his promise to call weekly. My sister was a professional social worker, and she told me that she could now relate to the pain of other parents who had lost a child. Unfortunately, she was later to fully experience this pain.
- I had to fly on business, but I was still dealing with social and performance anxiety and wasn’t looking forward to the trip. While seated in the plane, I made a conscious effort to connect through meditation with my inner child (something I had read about but had never before attempted). I was surprised when it actually worked, and I saw myself as a toddler in diapers, jumping gleefully up and down. However, I was taken aback when my child started pulling vigorously at his penis. I suspect this was related to the body shame I had developed as a consequence of religious and cultural abuse. Nonetheless, the overwhelming feeling was of tremendous love. Upon landing, I was still so caught up in this emotional experience that I forgot to retrieve my bag from the luggage carousel. I picked up my rental car, and headed in the general direction of my hotel. Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, I “saw” my departed sister, resplendent in a long white gown, with a crown on her head. She was mouthing “I love you, I love you” over and over again. I cried uncontrollable tears of joy. I had had no idea how much I needed to receive this message from her. I drove the rest of the way to my hotel as if on divine autopilot, having no need to consult directions. I arranged for a cab to bring me my bag, and enjoyed a lovely dinner and a restful night. The next day’s business went very well.
- While in the airport waiting to board my return flight, my eye happened to catch a magazine cover featuring the face of a woman whom I didn’t recognize. She wore no obvious makeup and, I suppose, was simply being herself. However, the effect she had on me was extraordinary. Immediately, I felt the exquisite pleasure of Kundalini playing at the base of my spine, which continued through much of the flight. I think I must have recognized, and connected with, the divine in her. In my book, I write at length about the need for humankind to rediscover the importance of the divine feminine, which has long been subjugated by patriarchal religions to the detriment of the well-being of our planet.
- I confronted my father about the way he had physically abused me, and he immediately said that he was sorry. This made it much easier to forgive him. His passing in 1997 was relatively painless for all concerned. During a gathering at the family cottage following his funeral, a beautiful butterfly (a spiritual symbol of rebirth and transformation) landed on my arm and remained there for several minutes while I walked around the property.
It is approximately at this point that my original book ended. However, I still had much to experience and learn. As described in Kundalini and the Morning Star, Jesus was to come to play an even more important role in my ultimate healing. Jesus was crucified, but, as was demonstrated to me in a remarkable way, he is very much alive.