My first personal life coach near me came many moons after a particularly long and sorrowful winter. I was twenty-eight years old when the love of my life and best friend developed schizophrenia. We had been together for five years when his behavior began to change so severely that I no longer recognized the person I was with. We didn't know he had schizophrenia at the time; this wouldn't be something that would be diagnosed for at least ten more years to come.
I knew something was wrong, but I had little understanding of the changes that occurred, making it more confusing. I was traumatized by this time period and felt abandoned. None of this was his fault, of course.
I used to wave my hand in front of his face to see if he would return to the present moment. His spirit was far away, and what was left was the body of the man that I loved, but his consciousness felt like it had evaporated into the midnight sky without so much as a goodbye or an explanation.
I was young and had yet to become the mental health practitioner, spiritual coach, mystic, and healer that I am today who would recognize the signs of mental health challenges and know what to do about it, so I went on trying to help him, hoping he would come back. I thought maybe he was depressed; I see how naive that is in retrospection.
Every once in a while, he'd become present momentarily; I'd cry and cry, pleading with him to please stay because I missed him terribly and felt so alone and confused. He would always say, "I'm right here, my love," before he became unresponsive again and what I now know to be catatonic.
I was in deep grief; at the time, I couldn't picture a world without us. We used to see angels together; he was my spiritual partner. Creatively, we were like soul mates and often had many ongoing writing and film projects. He wasn't just a boyfriend to me; he had crossed over and had become my family. At that time, no one else understood me as profoundly as he did.
Over time, I grew resentful that he seemed lost in his thoughts and often vacant; I felt like the loneliest person in the world when I was with him. It was painful to stand next to him when he wasn't really there. It was a constant torturous reminder for me that broke my heart every time I looked at him. I wanted to laugh, talk about God, make love, and connect, but he couldn't do that. I hung on for two more years, but it became clear over time that he was no longer capable of having a relationship with me, and I had begun to feel like his caretaker at the tender age of twenty-eight.
And so there I was, looking online for someone who could help me. The first time I sat in Edwina's living room, I asked her, in deep confusion and wearyness of spirit, "Is love enough?" She looked at me softly and paused before saying, " I wish it were dear, but it is not. You need to be on the same page, have good communication, aligned values." The list went on, and then she said, "And this man needs to be healthy." I was devastated to hear this, but at that moment, I knew it was the truth. The woman seemed wise, initiated, and weathered by time. I could feel her words came from life experience. After we talked, she put me on her table, and I received Reiki. I cried my eyes out so hard that day; I was embarrassed. I had just met her, and here I was.
Every week, I returned to see Edwina, the Spiritual Coach, unraveling a new layer. I grasped, trying to untie the knot that had settled in my mind and heart. After every enlightening conversation, she put me on her table, and I wept again as she gave me Reiki.
It wasn't until the 3rd month of seeing her once a week that I stopped crying. I was going through the stages of grief, and anger was next.
My sister studied spiritual psychology, and I used to love to do her homework. I attended a metaphysical church from a young age. I had been coming out of my body for as long as I could remember, and I started seeing angels at the age of twenty-one. So, talking about spiritual topics with Edwina was natural for me. I wasn't used to being coached, however.
She often asked me thoughtful questions and listened with her heart. She seemed to understand me. Her energy felt calming, caring, and wise. But that didn't matter to me at the time. I was furious, and as we uncovered, I was deeply angry with God. I remember she used to open the window. My anger was powerful enough to change the room, but even the deep, hot knots in my heart and mind began to un-unwind with time.
Years passed, and I put the pieces of my heart back together. My partner had gone on to get the help he needed, and I somehow managed to be okay. I decided to learn to do energy work. Deep down, I thought I would know how to bring back my love if I could become a healer.
I was still working on my relationship with God when I met my next Spiritual coach. This one was more of a healer. He taught me to do the energy work I sought after.
Over time, I began to understand how my relationship changes served my evolution. I had gone through an ominous storm that almost broke me. But as Rumi says, "The wound is the place the light enters you." And so it did.
I went on to work with a handful of Spiritual Coaches, Healers, Spiritual practitioners, and Spiritual Mystics, and that's when I realized my best friend and love had illuminated my path.