The Joan of Arc Complex
Sometimes I think that I have a mental health problem and that at any minute the pharmaceutical companies are going to develop a cute little green star-shaped pill to cure me of my ailment. I call it my Joan of Arc Complex. You see, I hear voices that I’m pretty sure aren’t mine and they tell me to go out and do these stupid save the world projects. I call them THEY or THEM because they refuse to give me a more accurate name to call them. So, I must be crazy.
I’ve spent a lot of years analyzing the heck out of this topic. Here are the eerie facts. I have no control whatsoever as to when and how THEY show up. I am absolutely convinced that THEY are something separate from me, my ‘Higher Self,’ or my imagination. I have no influence over THEM and what THEY believe. THEY have a higher accuracy rate at predicting my future than most of the psychics I know. THEY refuse to ‘serve’ me and do not require that I ‘serve’ THEM. We are both free to end the relationship at any time. Therefore, I believe THEY are real.
I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure out who or what THEY are. When I ask, THEY typically just chuckle and say something cosmically vague like, “We are the light before it shines, the medicine before it cures, the song before it’s sung.” Yeah great, that helps a lot, thanks guys. I’ve come to a place that for my own personal understanding and for the ability to be able to even talk about it to others, I call THEM angels. It ‘feels’ accurate. THEY are not opposed to such titles. Apparently THEY have been referred to as such for quite some time now and THEY seem to think it’s a rather quaint concept that we’ve used to wrap our heads around the idea of them.
So I hear angels telling me to go out and do good works. More than half of my articles are really their messages. I find myself sometimes in awe of the things that I write. Sure it’s all stuff that I think or believe, but often I didn’t even know that I knew that stuff until it came out of me. It’s like the book on overcoming fear and doubt caused by our inner-critic. I didn’t have a clue what to say or why I even needed to write on that topic. But, as it came out day after day, I found myself amazed and strangely impressed that THEY took all of these seemingly separate ideas and beliefs that had been rattling around in my head and THEY pulled it all together into that book. Cool! I had no idea that I knew that much about the topic. I just sat there with my coffee cup every morning and asked THEM what did they want me to say. Next thing you know, there’s this pretty cool book with some really nice tips and ideas. I had to learn the lessons of that book before I could even begin to do the other works THEY told me I was to do. Funny thing, telling someone you’ve written a book about overcoming fear and doubt but you’re too chicken to submit it to a publisher! Beautiful irony.
A few times over the years, I’ve concluded that I was some type of schizophrenic and that I needed to shut up and stop doing this stuff or I’d surely end up in a pink padded room. I’ve quit many times for fear that I was making it all up in my head and that THEY weren’t real and I was just having illusions of grandeur. You know what? I always missed being the kind of person that THEY say I am. I always felt lost and not really sure what to do with myself or what kind of a career to move forward with. I really tried to be smart and logical and to get a real job in the industry I was formally educated and trained to do. It really sucked. I just couldn’t get into the flow of it. I couldn’t find success or happiness doing anything else but this save the world stuff. “Teach them how to be happy. In doing so, you’ll find your own happiness.”
I know there are people out there like me. I’m not alone. Are we making a difference? Do the weird things we teach really work? Do crystals have healing powers? Do aliens telepathically communicate with us? Can the many religions be united into one root concept – love one another? Can the Lightworkers hold the energy of enlightenment for us until we figure it out for ourselves? Does any of this even matter?
I also know there’s people out there who are nothing like me. They’re the majority. They believe their version of god is the only version that matters. They believe only in what their five senses can see, hear, and feel. If science can’t prove it, then it’s not real. We’re all just a bunch of quacks you know.
Even as I write this, my heart swells and I feel so blessed to do this work that THEY have asked of me that I am moved to tears. If you knew me, you’d know that I really hate that sappy crying in public stuff. It just goes to show how deeply touched I am by the fact that I get to do this. So like Joan of Arc, I hear these voices and THEY tell me to go do these great things, and I listen and I do them and people seem to like it, to be helped, to be touched on a soul level. If I am crazy, please don’t give me that pill. Let me live to my dieing breath believing in THEM and that I’m doing the work of angels. Don’t cure me.
Copyright 2004, Skye Thomas, Tomorrow’s Edge