When I was teenager, I worked at a summer camp in Mississippi. Simply put, it was a magical experience. Especially that first summer when I was sixteen. Life back home was difficult, and summer camp was an oasis. I made friends I still keep in touch with over twenty years later, played silly games, taught kids how to canoe. And whereas I could go on and on about this, the point is that when I got back home, I TRIED telling important people in my life what a transformative experience it was, and they were like, “Oh? That’s nice. We have a pot roast for dinner.” In short, at least from my perspective, they didn’t “get” it.

My response? I stopped talking about summer camp, stopped sharing my stories about the place that meant so much to me.

Now I realize those people weren’t meant to get it. When Dorothy came back from the Land of Oz, she was simply over the moon–er, rainbow–about all that had happened to her (“And you were there, and you were there!”), but her family was convinced it was a dream. Why? Because they hadn’t been where she’d been. It was Dorothy’s trip alone. Still, what a shame it would have been for her (or L. Frank Baum) to have kept her story to herself. Think how much poorer the world would have been.

I say all this because I recently had an experience that was very special to me but have been hesitant to share it, in part because I don’t think I can quite convey it with words, in part because even if I could, I’m sure there would still be those who doubt it. On Facebook I recently read about someone else’s similar experience, and one of their “friends” said, “This is confirmation bias at its finest.” My therapist’s comment to this was, “You know, everyone on the internet thinks they’re an expert about everything.” Anyway, everyone else’s opinion be damned. More and more it’s enough for me to trust my own experiences. More and more I’m willing to authentically share anything and everything about my life and let people get it or not. Plus–and this is the most important thing–I know that I’ve found help and encouragement from the stories of others, so perhaps others can find help and encouragement from mine.

So with that (I know) very long prologue, let us proceed.

Earlier this summer I took an online class with intuitive Robert Ohotto, and our first “assignment” was to draw a card from Caroline Myss’s archetype deck, the idea being that whatever card you drew would 1) not be accidental and 2) would be important for some reason. While taking this class I blogged about shifting from old patterns of thought and behavior to new ones, so I thought of this card simply as a pattern (or archetypal energy) that wanted to emerge from within me. (This is the part where I don’t want to be misunderstood.) I drew the GOD card.

Now, one could obviously get a big head about identifying with this card, but, to be clear, we’re talking about archetypes, not being literal. That is, meditating on or associating yourself with this card isn’t about feeling superior to anyone else or believing that you can shoot lighting bolts out of your butt. (Although that would be cool, albeit painful.) Rather, as the card says, it’s about recognizing the eternal force that resides within you. As I’ve said a number of times, I often think of myself as weak, so for me it’s been about recognizing that I’m more powerful than I give myself credit for. Anyway, I’ve had the card on my altar all summer.

So get this shit.

Last Saturday (a week ago tomorrow) one of the first things I saw when I woke up was a post from my friend Tina, a dancer I met on one of my trips to Austin. Tina said she’d recently had a transformative experience with an intuitive artist named Charles, that all she did was text Charles her name and that he drew a picture of her–not her physically, but her emotionally, spiritually. She also said that included with his drawing (which Charles did and does strictly on a donation basis), Charles offered a phone call to EXPLAIN both his process and what her particular drawing might be about. Well, I’m pretty intrigued by and open to this sort of thing, so before I crawled out of bed I texted Charles my name. Immediately he texted back, “Yes, of course. I’ll have it done within a couple days.”

Here’s the drawing he sent me this last Monday night.

Considering the archetype card I drew earlier this summer, which, by the way, only me and my therapist have known about, I was blown away when I saw Charles’s drawing. Plus, I instantly and intuitively felt it to be “true” on a number of levels. For example, the guy in the drawing (me) clearly is keeping his emotions in a jar, and that’s something I admittedly do and have written about it extensively. Granted, I’m better about shoving my emotions down than I used to be, but still, it’s sort of my thing. As Charles would explain later, “You’re using your willpower [right side] to keep your emotions in check.”

By the time I spoke to Charles on the phone (a day after I got the drawing), I thought I’d noticed everything about the drawing there was to notice. How wrong I was. But first, let’s back up. Charles said whenever he draws someone, he firsts asks God (whom he calls Yahweh), “Show me Marcus, show me whoever.” He said, “The idea is that this image is both how the universe sees you and how you see yourself. It’s your past, it’s your present, and it’s a tool for moving into your future or full potential.” Then he explained that, much like in a dream, “Everything in the drawing is you.” This means the two columns are me, the guy is me, the jar is me, and so on.

I won’t go on about every detail, but, for example, I told Charles that the two pillars in my life were my family and my therapist, and he replied, “Okay, life is a mirror and a hologram, so that means that your family and your therapist simply reflect back to you those parts of yourself that are strong, solid, or whatever.”

Overall, Charles said the main message of the image was about balancing my masculine (right side) and feminine (left side) energies. Notice how my right side is crying, but my left side isn’t. Notice how there’s a ring (which stands for commitment) on my left side but not my right. The other main message, he said, was about not just feeling and expressing my emotions, but also not being selective about with whom I share my love (hearts in the jar) and wisdom (Greek-like senator or philosopher in “The Thinker” position).

For over an hour, Charles and I went through the whole illustration. “There are no accidents,” he said. “The blue-white robe represents communication. The nipple represents sensitivity and nurturing. The clouds represent three masculine figures in your life and two feminine. The foot represents boundaries [as in, put your foot down]. The fact that there are more golden leaves on the right side than the left and that you noticed? That’s about your perfectionism [guilty]. Enjoy the imperfections!”

I’d say Charles’s drawing “nailed me” and that his suggested interpretations were ninety percent accurate or better. In my experience with intuitives and counselors, this is an extremely high percentage. Plus, as I’ve continued to meditate on his drawing this week, I’ve found it to be true on multiple levels. For example, I can identify the three masculine and two feminine figures represented by the clouds, and I can also associate the clouds with the five major creative ideas or projects I’ve started (three having to do with the blog, two having to do with the world of young adult fiction).

These details are endlessly fascinating to me, but the detail or idea I keep coming back to is one I blogged about last night–the importance of the heart, the importance of having it as my guiding force (over my head), the importance of not keeping any part of myself shoved down simply because I might be afraid of someone else’s reaction or lack of support. (As indicated in the drawing, I have plenty of support already.) Charles said, “You probably gave your heart to someone in the past and ended up getting punched in the bread basket!” (Accurate.) But I know now that the love inside me is never diminished by someone else’s ability to recognize or receive it. Plus, God doesn’t love us only if we “get” it. His hand doesn’t hold anything back. His jar is always open.

[If you’re interested in working with Charles, text your first name to Charles Prophet, 971-283-3600. Be prepared for wisdom, support, and encouragement. And fabulously bad jokes.]