The start of Eric Leigh-Pink’s path.
As a child my ability to communicate with Spirits seemed perfectly normal to me. I would carry on conversations with Spirits just as one does with every day people.. I remember being in a grocery store just chatting away with Darcy or Marcus, both of whom are key players in the work we do now. Parents would pull their children away from me as if I was a plague. It confused me because I assumed as a child everyone could communicate with those from the other side. It was my Mom Bea that kept asking me “who are you talking too” as I looked to the sky. You could tell there was concern and a bit of fear in her eyes, yet I would always try to assure her that they were friends, Darcy and Marcus, are friends of mine and she need not concern herself. After awhile though my exclusion began to weigh on me. It became apparent that my continued actions could only isolate me. Hi
As a teenager I tried very hard to detach myself from Spirit, to disconnect in the hopes of having a normal youthful life. It did not work, because it just wasn’t who I was. My ties to Spirit still leaked out, it was just too strong, to bright, it found its way out one way or another. I made a choice after high school that I would flaunt who I was. I shared it with everyone, I spoke to Spirits and was proud of it. I had a connection to the spiritual realm and did not care what others thought. I refused to continue to hide who I was. Unexpectedly that opened doors, it was as if Spirit was waiting for me, and as I accepted my place they started to present themselves in droves. Starting with this event:
As I turned 18 I remember hearing drums. Everyday I could hear the beating of old drums at a distance, most of the time it happened as I fell asleep. At first I kept looking outside to try and understand where they were coming from. I slowly realized it had to be a spiritual noise of some kind. I remember coming home one day tired from the restaurant I worked at, I fell to the soft carpet of my apartment and the drums suddenly became very loud. So I closed my eyes fixated on the noise when suddenly I was in a very different place:
I was standing in a desert with huge mountains in the distance I clearly remember it being freezing cold with a chilly wind. I could feel the wind, feel the altitude. I was surrounded by 12 Buddhist monks dressed in red robes. Two of them were playing drums. Two others walked up to me. Then one stepped directly in front of me. He was an older man, bald head, his teeth had multiple gaps, thinly built. He held out both his hands and as he did all the monks begin to hum.
“I come bearing gifts for you.” He said.
“Who are you?” I asked confused over my setting.
He quickly chuckled and smiled. Shrugging his shoulders he said “I am a humble, simple, Prince” He said with a level of glee.
“I don’t understand this” As I looked in all directions.
He quickly turned to the other monk. Who in turn handed him an old wooden box. There was something about the box that I recognized. He opened the box and put a white scarf around my neck, then he turned the box towards me, inside was a very old, long wooden flute with metal silver ends. My first thought was, concern, I wasn’t a musician of any kind. Perhaps this monk was in error. Then the monk put the box on the hard ground in front of me. Quickly grabbed my hands pulling them aggressively towards him.
“These hands do more than what you think. They can do great things!”
Suddenly his hands glowed and my hands glowed and the light filled the entire desert, then there was nothing but light and I woke up.
I looked up at the clock in my apartment and to my utter shock only one minute had passed. What was that I kept asking myself. What just happened?
I went around to all my friends and phoned my family over my insane event and it’s odd time gap. It would be a week later that an older friend of my gasped at my story and explained that what I was describing was Prince Siddhartha the Buddha. Founder of the Buddhist faith. He explained that the Buddhist used an Om Flute, that the circle of people could very easily have ties to the wheel of life. He also talked about how white scarfs are given as gifts at religious ceremonies.
I then studied the teachings and stories of the Buddha and learned about meditation and the middle way. I integrated my life to those studies. I had met the Prince that started Buddhism and to this day find it to be one of the greatest privileges of my entire life, but there would be other great moments to come.
It was the meditation specifically that gave me a direct line to Spirit. I was able to communicate with them, they began to make predictions about other people around me, then people I didn’t even know, and eventually what you now read for the world. It was more than that though. In my constant state of meditation I begin to remember who I was, a corn farmer, mayor, Russian soldier, English sailor. But more importantly I remembered the countless life’s where I was connected to Spirit; the Tennessee Prophet, the oracle of Delphi, an Egyptian advisor, a Shaman, and finally a Tibetan Oracle who advised the Lama’s.
You remember the small things, the rats in the Tibetan monastery that you come to name. The smell of incense. The great friends you have, the love for others. The job itself was a bit forgotten. It always seems to be more in line with what or who you come to love that is remembered. Love is always remembered while so much of the rest of life falls to the waste side.
One day I remembered going to class at college, then my restaurant job afterwards and realizing as I stared in the kitchen, I was very much in the wrong place, all that I was doing was wrong, serving Spirit, serving God, was the only path forward the only one that mattered. So it began.