There is a misconception about Karma, I have heard it again and again,you did something wrong so now you will pay for it. But that’s not the Karma I know. The Karma I know is based on cycles and a completeness of ones journey within multiple lives.

About a decade or so ago my life in Chicago had fallen to pieces. My entire life was in shambles. I had just moved back to San Diego, no money, no job, just the clothes on my back and now at 35 years old I found myself living with my parents and the countless foster children that they were taking care of at that time. My mother loves children. Toys layed out over the floor, and children clothes scattered in odd places. As I now slept on my mothers sofa I presented my angry frustrations with Spirit. To which they said.

“Ain’t it just grand!” They said with such glee.

“No! No its not grand at all, its actually horrible!” I yelled back.

“You are exactly where you should be. you are where our father (God) wants you to be.”

“Are you guys talking about me.. Eric Leigh-Pink… Did you get the memo on my life right now?”

“Sleep and Remember Eric.”

“Remember.. Remember ” a second and third Spirit said.

I knew another life was about to be revealed.

It was the early 1820s, my name was Connor and at this time I was 17, living in a massive mansion with my mother, father and younger brother. We had servants and grounds keepers. A daily chef who cooked our dinners. The clothes and shoes I wore was tailored made. The carriages outside had a gold trim. My father insisted that I dress for success daily. My hair was perfectly combed, my physical shape was a product of rigorous exercise my parents insisted on. My father lived by a class system. When we walked into a room the servants were expected to look down. We did not converse with them unless it was related to their work. My mother was a beautiful woman, she had the perfect shape, the most unique clothes from different parts of the world. She never smiled though, her face was always stoic.. Part of me believed her lack of happiness was for show, to remind others of her status. Or was it the forceful role my father had her play in this elite society? My younger brother believed that it had to do with their marriage which was based on unifying two massive mogul companies into one under the legal document of marriage.

We had it all, but as I stared into the mirror every morning I couldn’t help but feel I did not belong. I felt like a stranger to my surroundings, empty inside. I felt trapped, lost, and disconnected. I lived in a cold beautiful place, stony and glamorous. The only joy in my life was my secret boyfriend Zachary. Anytime I saw him my body would shutter, my stomach would lift up, and I couldn’t help but change my deminer to gleeful exuberance.

During the last days of summer my father threw a huge house party where all the elite and rich came. I was excited the whole day because I knew Zach would be there. Zachary and I escaped to the garden during the tail end of the party and started kissing, when suddenly we realized there was a large audience watching us, snickering at us. We quickly stopped and went separate ways.

The next day came. My actions became the gossip of the town. At dinner the tone of the room was a cold rage. I can clearly remember tasting one spoonful of potato soup that was somewhat cold. When my father took his soup and threw at me from across the table. The soup struck my face and in that brief moment I was relieved it was luke warm.

“Get out! Get out of my house, your nothing but filth!” he screamed. I had embarrassed him, we were the talk of the town. The great titan and his gay son.

“I am sorry. Sorry” I started to cry and mermered

“Get out!” he screamed again.

I looked over to my mom waiting for her to save me, waiting for her to say anything, anything at all.

“Mom?” I waited as tears streamed down my face.

She looked at me with a straight face and said “Leave”

I started to walk upstairs to get my stuff when my father raced towards me, grabbed me by my collar and pulled me towards the door.

“You will take nothing! I gave you that, and this filth in front of me will have none of my ownings.”

And like that it was all over. I tried several times to come back home but to no avail. I tried to find sanctuary at the church but was denied. I tried to talk with Zachary but he hid from my multiple approaches. I tried to live off the land but I was too incompetent for that. The irony is everyone knew, they knew who I was. To my parents it wasn’t about a Christian teaching but an embarrassment to their perfect powerful image, that I had shattered in one small blow. Our town was in the outskirts of Chicago, I decided to try my chances there. it would not last though. I would die from Consumption before I turned 19. No one would save me, no one cared.

It takes a bit of time to remember who you really are after you die. To remember all those lives. As I passed I could only remember my life as Connor. The minister at the church made my fate clear. My afterlife had only one fate and I believed it. After dying I found myself oddly standing on a new bridge on the outskirts of Chicago waiting nervously for the devil to show up. Instead I was greeted by a group of Spirits. who introduced themselves at the other end of of the Bridge walking towards me. Macabe, Marcus, Deedra, Darcy, Micah, and Michael.

“Are you demons.. are you the Devil?” I pointed to Macabe who I noticed was clearly their leader.

“He’s calling you Loull” Marcus chuckled before getting a scowl from Macabe.

Macabe extended his hand out and said “Remember me… take it.. so you can remember”

I reluctantly took his hand. Thinking it was a trick. Suddenly a tsunami of memories came through, I remembered the thousands upon thousands of years Macabe spent at my side as my teacher, my protector, my guide, and most of all my true father. I remembered him saving me from prudetion. I remembered him toasting the marriage to my spiritual wife. But most of all I remembered the countless lives that he helped guide.

“Macabe… father?..” I immediately begin to wail and scream.

“They left me. They just discarded me like I was nothing”

Macabe quickly wrapped his hands around me.

“Your safe now. Your with your family and we will never let you go.”

Immediately the rest of them circled me, hugging me and brushing my head. “We are here brother. We are here with you brother. Always”

I fell to my knees and just cried and wailed so loud. But now I was relieved, I poured out my pain, I felt safe, love was back in my existence.

Which brings me back to Eric Leigh-Pink, here and now. I am now licensed to take care of foster children. I live a simple life, of taking care of so many children that have been discarded, abandoned, and abused.. Our small condo is a happy place decorated with Mickey Mouse décor. Our family brings in these small strangers who start off so scared, and we start our introduction by telling them, here you are safe, here you are loved, and as long as you are under our roof, life will be happy. All of this while the toys continue to litter our house. All while I gleefully converse with the local gardeners daily. We might be scrapping by at times but life is good. Now I find myself planning to adopt two wonderful brothers, who are seven and eight.

Our multiple previous lives cross each other to finish an incomplete story. I truly believe that the Universe, God, and Karma itself tapped me, set a stage, and offered me an opportunity to bring purpose to a situation that had none. In that moment where my Chicago life magically fell apart for a second time, two completely different eras. I was given an unforeseen opportunity to represent the sanctuary I never had. There are so many truths here, but if I leave you with one message here it is; So many horrors happen in our lives that have no meaning or rhyme. So you give it meaning. You give it purpose and mold it yours. You bless the world with your actions while sending a clear message to the darkness, a warning of redemption that you will not be crossed without the shadows in the dark seeing the full weight of ones wrath. Let that wrath be a thousand times greater than the the cold cruel darkness.

The next time life whisks away all that you know, consider the possibility that it is a blessing from the heavens. That a stage is being set for you to give meaning to that which had none. God is tapping you on the shoulder, and with his stage in hand asking you softly “What are you going to do with this?” My advice! Go all the way with playing on his stage. Let them see the full weight of your convictions. That is the Karma I know.