I am a psychotherapist, baptized in, and early on devoted to my Catholic faith, but through mind and bodywork experience, moved into realms of deeply intuitive and psychic phenomena of tremendous mystical and shamanic proportions, having been mysteriously visited by, and trained with, a Shaman, a Himalayan Swami and a Pharaoh, who informed me that in our past lives together, I was Queen Hatshepsut in Egypt. All suddenly came at a critical junctures in my spiritual development, similar to my deceased mother's visit from the otherworld.

First and foremost, I'm a mystic called "a fire dancer by Spirit." I've had a myriad of experiences in a realm many scoff at, judge and persecute, but few follow. It meant venturing off the beaten path and facing challenges head-on through the alchemical fire of purification. At times, my skin and my body have been metaphorically burned beyond recognition by Life's fires of ignorance, persecution and negative human emotions. It has been a hard road, but I wouldn't have it any other way. For this was my contract with God before I was born. Coming to acceptance, however, took a lifetime.

Life's painful passion has steered my soul journey from current to past lives and back again, garnering relationships seemingly from this life, but really ones of the past, calling for healing, with self or another, or both. Before I married at twenty-one, I sought an answer to "What is Love?" Though I asked a parish priest, family doctor, and finally a psychologist, my inquiry went unanswered. Close, yet often tumultuous relationship with parents, especially with my mother's many illnesses, led the journey. My questioning love was the thread that intermingled with her lost hope from life's painful traumas that formed the exquisite tapestry of life's purpose.

Silently and insidiously, love led my soul yearnings and became my life purpose. I counsel clients on their soul's journey, guiding them into ever deepening, and much misunderstood world of God's wonders – though thoroughly documented in Easter and Western sacred scriptures, and scientific research in altered states of consciousness.

Pain was the symptom, passion the energy – to reclaim parts of self through work on the psyche, as well as my human energy field through bodywork. The road took a sudden turn when my deceased mother appeared to me, while receiving bodywork, asking me to write about her life and informing me that I have a sister whom I never met, living in New Jersey – the result of which is the creative process of this book.

My trust, wonder and awe of God's mysterious Universe enabled me to come to Essence, for the soul is relentless in pursuit of excellence. Whether I liked it or not, I was forever prodded onward to healing. I became a Transformer of Spiritual Energy, as in my past lives. Through the journey of the past and present, I have come full circle again.

My journey started with one question; with answers and experiences that continue to surpass my wildest dreams. Unbeknownst to me, my questioning love was the thread intermingled with my mother's lost hope from life's painful traumas, that forged a connections with four generations of Italian American ancestry, and formed an exquisite tapestry of my life's purpose.

I focused in the moment. There was chant music playing. For some unknown, but perfectly natural reason, my mouth began to move as if I were silently speaking to someone. Neither hearing a reply or actually mouthing any words, I began to sob, knowing, sensing, the importance of the moment. "Where are you?" I said, the words finally uttered. They were directed to my recently deceased mother.

I closed my eyes and saw a vision of her as a young woman. She was smiling the same smile in the picture in my parents' home, only this time she wasn't in a photograph, but visiting me as I was receiving healing energy work from Madeline. She looked beautiful; her wide, round, dark brown eyes shining, her mouth stretched in a joyful smile. I took note of her graceful long nose, and curly hair ringing her face. My mind battled with this strange reality. I closed my eyes, shook my head as if this weren't happening. But it was happening! I yearned for some confirmation from Madeline, but didn't want to interrupt her work. Then, quite playfully, opened one eye and winking, said "Is that you, Mom?" Her swift reply, "Yes, it's me!" I sobbed with tears of quiet gratitude.

We began a forty-five minute silent dialogue that was disturbed by my logical, and rational mind. At times, I would again shake my head trying to pry loose this strange reality; yet knowing full well and quite consciously that "Yes, my deceased mother is really speaking to me."

I already knew that today would be a special day, rushing out the front door with my bagel in hand. I had called Madeline, my healing bodywork practitioner that morning, asking for an earlier appointment. "You read my mind, Elaine. I just had a cancellation and was going to call you!" In no time at all I was in her tiny, sun and energy-filled cottage that I felt so at home in.

I excitedly described my experiences since last we met. I told her how I had dreaded the first anniversary of my mother's death, and how, the day before, I felt I was sent to a specific shop in nearby Piermont. Piermont is a small river town in Rockland County. It recently was gentrified after Woody Allen filmed many movies there. One can see the Tappan Zee Bridge off in the distance. I liked wandering in the small shops weekdays when it's quiet, especially Mairead's store. Today was just that day. I drove slowly along the river road past large Victorian homes, fantasizing that one day I would live by the river. It was part of my daily routine, adopted since an accident forced me to give up my psychotherapy practice. Today was a beautiful sunny day with the sun glistening like tiny diamonds on the Hudson River. Sailboats were bobbing along with the rhythm of the water, cheerfully greeting the warm Spring day. Once there, the store owner, Maggie, and I chatted as I looked around the store. She had a variety of interesting items from all corners of the world. While we were speaking, I noticed a small statue of the Blessed Mother that was directly in front of me on her desk. My consciousness immediately took note. Something felt strange but I couldn't identify it, as yet.

Since I was a young child, I felt drawn to Her. As I matured, I realized that the Virgin personifies archetypal symbology representing love, hope and strength. I connected with her at an early age, necessarily searching in my spiritual world for some port in a storm from painful life experiences.

A phone call came just as Maggie was speaking of the rosary beads that sold out as fast as they arrived in her store. "Look, Elaine, see Her image," as she held the crucifix

up to the light for me. There in the tiny magnifying glass was an image of the Virgin. Continuing with her phone conversation, she handed the rosary beads to me. "Would you like to have these? I can’t sell them, for they’re imperfect." I was stunned and accepted them humbly as she easily continued with her phone conversation. I held them gently and profoundly. My brain was whirring, sensing something important about to happen. The momentum was quickening. I knew this was another of the marvelous gifts I had recently, and unexpectedly, received from yet another store owner. I sensed there was another message of love here, for myself, as well as for Mairead.

We chatted for several minutes more before I left. The rosary beads firmly gripped in my hand, almost as if I were clutching them for strength in this sacred moment. Once outside, I sobbed, knowing I was again touched by Mary and my mother. Only after mass the next day did the full realization dawn. Mairead is a Gaelic name for Margaret! Margaret! My mother's name! I had received yet another communication from the otherworld!