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  • Writer's pictureLeila Lloyd-Evelyn

My Origin Story: How I came to be HERE right now

Born and raised in London with a father from Trinidad and a mother from Cirencester (yes, I am the whitest mixed race person you’ll ever be likely to know), I actually didn’t begin my spiritual explorations until my late 30’s.

And I can't say I've followed an especially traditional mystical lineage or path. But then I'm not aiming for enlightenment either, so there we go. I know I’ll lose some clients who crave somatic work which is soaked in tantric traditions and so on (and yes some of my teachers have been of course) - but for myself, I’m a London girl and it was only when weird stuff started happening to me that I even took on board that the non physical realms mattered at all. I’m honestly way more interested in how to process emotions, have courage and be of service in the world without self sabotaging myself in any shape or form.

My 20’s to mid 30’s had been occupied primarily with trying to understand and make peace with my own trauma - with a chaotic family life full of love, kindness, laughter, cruelty and violence too. I was as surprised to find myself interesting in the less traditional approaches to healing as anyone else was.

In fact ten years on the therapist’s couch may well have hindered me. I felt like I was my diagnosis, like the bad things that had happened to me were the sum total of who I was. And that no longer made sense.

A few years later, after many trainings in energy modalities and experiments as a client myself, I had an encounter with a benevolent spirit and received a powerful, transmission of love that made my inner ear vibrate to a barely perceptible sound and my entire being to feel flooded with love - all whilst I went about my normal, regular daily life and routine.

I hasten to add that life returned to normal once the transmission was over and it is now just a bloody good story that I tell occasionally. It doesn’t go down especially well with crowds that believe one has to be special to have these experiences, or devoted to a daily practice like yoga, or mantras, or meditation. Sorry. Do those things cos you love them and they’re good for you - not to engage with a magical, benevolent being.

Truth is, much as the story of a loving spiritual encounter still brings me the tingles. I. Can’t. Believe. It. Happened. And yet it did. And it was as normal as drinking a cup of tea honestly. I went around my day, answering phones, sending emails, functioning just like I needed to whilst I was at work. Whilst sneaking out occasionally into the toilet to weep because the transmission of love was so incredibly moving - like being a baby held in it’s mothers arms I felt adored and cherished and there was the smell of rose in the air and a silent note being vibrated inside my right ear.

The truth is, regardless of my tale of love and bliss, most of my healing work, all of it really, happens right in the middle of the mess. It’s pretty ugly, it’s not linear (I feel I’ve got shit sorted and then I find myself brought to my knees again) and people are quite possibly going to think you’re mad when you’re doing what you know you are doing exactly what needs to be done in order to remain some version of sane.

Anyway, today’s thoughts.


L x

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