When I was a child, I had a vision. It was about 1955 and I was simply walking down the sidewalk in front of my house in our suburban neighborhood in the San Fernando Valley, Los Angeles. I asked myself, “how am I supposed to live this life?” There was nothing strange about that to me. I was still in the hypnagogic, theta brain wave state of childhood where the practical world and the spiritual world were one. Something in me knew that I was talking to a reliable source. Something in me knew that I could talk to “him.” The answer came immediately, “Try to stay as close to the Christ as you can.” I knew what that meant even though I had been born in Israel and raised a Jew. I’d never even heard of Christianity, Jesus Christ, or any of the myths and rituals that were born from that pattern. I have never denounced my Jewish roots because of that vision and what followed in my spiritual life. Quite the contrary, I discovered its deeper taproot through that Voice that echoes in my being. The Christed Self is our true Being, our true nature, it is the Love that we all are in potential.
My life has taken many twists and turns. As a teenager and in my early 20s I dove through and survived the wild Hollywood of sex-and-drugs-and-rock ‘n’ roll. I married a man which I believed was forever and played the role of housewife and mother with two children in private schools as my husband provided amply as a show business attorney. I studied ceramic art, oil painting with a Norwegian master, jewelry making, and eventually writing.
At the age of forty, my life did a major recalibration as I was mystically drawn into a 10-year initiation in the Gnostic tradition. I write about this in my memoir, Love on the Brink of History.
When I discovered the channeled texts of Paul Selig, I recognized the voice, Melchizedek, was the same truth that spoke to me in that first childhood vision. The same truth that spoke to me through the initiations of the Gnostics and Roger Weir’s teachings.
That voice is very much kin to what Rumi, the 13th Century Persian poet, calls The Friend. For indeed Melchizedek never fails to guide me through synchronicity, readings, and inner promptings.