Insane Scavenger Hunt: You're Not Crazy, Just Awakening!
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About this ebook
Allura has the perfect life. She came from a good loving stable family, attended college, got married, built a house in a Texas suburb, and had children, but knew there was something more to life. She felt like she was forgetting something she needed to remember. One day it all became clearer with six simple words. Words powerful enough to break her out of a crazy cycle, but paving the way for a spiritual journey that slowly unveiled itself as a Scavenger Hunt.
Allura Eshmun
Allura Eshmun lives with her loving husband and two wonderful kids in Texas. She is working on two fiction books and her fifth book Insane Scavenger Hunt: I'm Awake, Now What? For more information visit AlluraEshmun.com and e-mail her at alluraeshmun@yahoo.com
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Insane Scavenger Hunt - Allura Eshmun
INTRODUCTION
July 2, 2015 at 8:42 pm
He says I can write and that I should write. She says something is wrong with my writing. Opposites! I am told I have a story to tell and I need to write. It’s all about the who, what, when, where, and how. He also says I am a teacher so teach. Fear! Is it the under lining answer as to why I’ve missed the boat? Surely, teaching is the journey or is it writing? A teacher lives across the street; two teachers on each side of our home and my good friend is a teacher and talks about teaching all the time. When I think about substitute teaching I cringe. Fear again! It’s funny how things come to pass. I wonder where this will lead. Not for me to know, I guess, but, for me to be. I’ll try it. Momma said, Let go and let God!
Would be cool to see my name on a book in the Kindle store. Who knows, I’ve read many books. He says, Why would I not see you as a writer?
I say, How can what I have to say be different or is it about different?
Everyone has perspective but, what would make someone want to pick up a book I’ve written be interested in reading it. Funny, sitting here feels natural. Like I’ve been meant to write and just now finding my way onto the road. Has God given me all this time at home because he wants me to write my story? Well, if it‘s true I’m praying God flows through to help me tell a story, my story, our story.
The trick is to begin.
So this is where it begins…
Dear Friend,
I wrote the previous paragraph not knowing where life would take me. Someone told me I could not write and at that time in my life I believed them. I allowed the fear of the words you cannot write
control a huge portion of my life.
Each chapter in this book represents a spiritual transition, on my journey. Let me tell you it’s been a scavenger hunt of discovery; where I am learning to allow fear to pass through me, love myself and accept who I am.
What we create is up to us and I hope you enjoy my story about what I’ve created so far... I am excited! The world is at our door. It is up to us to wake up to who we are so we can shine our light for others who can’t see in the darkness.
The stories and tools in this book can guide you (if you allow it) to finding your own inner treasures in your life's Insane Scavenger Hunt because You’re Not Crazy, Just Awakening!
Allura Eshmun
Experience Life. Understand Life. Love Life. Be Light!
CYCLE I: WAKE UP !
1. QUESTIONS ROAMING IN MY MIND
I am roaming aimlessly in my own mind today!
- Iiona V.
For years during my late 30’s, I questioned my life. I questioned the past, present and tried to envision the future. All the thoughts and feelings arising from the questioning slowly depressed and confused me. I felt lost; so, I prayed. I prayed long and hard to make the uncomfortable emotions stop; not totally understanding what was happening. It takes a while before I realize I prayed for hours almost every night. For weeks, I’d wake up in the mornings feeling tired and burdened with questions. My mind wandered; traveling from story to story and scenario after scenario. I read my favorite spiritual books, Every Day I Pray
or Until Today
, by Iyanla Vanzant, hoping to receive a message of encouragement to move my thoughts in a positive direction. Maybe I need to change my attitude by being happy. So, I faked it, with hopes to make it to happiness, but never arrived and the questions continued. I desperately looked for something – anything – but, not sure what to look for… I feel like I’m searching in the dark but, my eyes are open in bright daylight. Maybe I need to catch-up with God, and if I caught up, then my life can improve and I’d overcome the feelings I have.
I walk over to my bookshelf. I look at all the books I own, then I reach out to grab my Bible. I flip through a few pages, then put it back, thinking, I don’t even understand all these verses and what they mean and how these Bible stories are relevant to my life. I feel guilty about not going to church on a regular basis. Then my questions stop and I’m daydreaming. I hear the words in my mind, PRAISE THE LORD, AMEN, HALLELUJAH! The familiar words take me back to my 6-year-old-self, sitting and watching, the folks of Saint Paul Methodist Church.
I sit between Momma and Mother (my grandmother) on an uncomfortable wooden pew trying to stay awake as the reverend preaches his sermon. Reverend Bell is excited and feeling the spirit, because he is almost singing his words, and constantly wiping the sweat from his forehead as he talks to the congregation. The piano player just sat back down, put his hands on the keys and starts to play two chords every time the Reverend ends a sentence.
Wearing your Sunday best is serious business. I see a few ladies witnessing the spirit of the Lord with their arms up and I hear their Amen!
, and Yes Pastor!
They wear flamboyant hats with matching suits, shoes and purse. I straighten out my pretty pink dress and tug my white socks with lace ruffles. My hair is cute because Momma hot combed it last night. My naturally tight curly coiled hair is slick, straight and greased down, with Royal Crown hair dressing in two pony tails platted on the ends. I look good, because my patent leather shoes match my patent leather purse just like Momma and Mother.
Reverend is preaching louder and clearly but, my mind is concerned about my empty growling stomach and I can’t wait to take off these cute hot and itchy clothes. I wonder what my brother Lee is doing at the Zion Baptist church with Daddy.
My boredom fades because Reverend Bell stops preaching. The choir stands to sing, Hush, Somebody’s Calling My Name
. I know it’s going to be at least an hour before church is over.
When I come back to the present moment I’m still starring at my many Bibles on the book shelf. I remember the words Mother would say, because they repeat in my head like a skipping record on a continuous loop. She’d say, Allura, you need to put them kids in church!
but, I know, I don’t fit in at church and church these days seem like a place of entertainment only and not a sacred place or space to be who I am. I want my kids to have the church experience, but feel no urgency to go. Church does not fit me. Church has too many rules, and judges, and church is historically predictable not progressive. What’s with all the restrictions anyway? I mean, really, who wants to sit on a hard pew for two-and-a-half hours next to two children who are bored out of their minds and hungry because they are used-to-having-lunch-right-now, and a husband who would rather be home relaxing. Do we really need to sing five different hymns and all three verses sung in a slow, southern, Negro spiritual drawl? Did I mention acapella? For me, trying to stay respectfully awake and listening to a minister struggling to make the words of the Bible relevant to today's problems is challenging! It’s natural for me to feel this way. Right?
What is this thing that’s driving me nuts? Why do I feel guilty? I need to try harder, because if I try harder things will work much better for me. Right? I’m a college-educated-women with tons of experience and skills. Why am I not able to get the job, and money I want? What am I doing wrong? This is driving me crazy. Why am I so consumed with all of these questions? My life is not bad. Why are all these women with extreme low self-esteem issues coming in and out of my life? Why am I so worried about them and why do I feel so bad when they leave my life? Why am I complaining about nothing? I shouldn't complain. I have everything. Why am I not satisfied? I have my own life right? God, are you listening? Are you out there? If you are in everything, surely you can hear me screaming in my prayers. Is it something you want me to learn? Help? What the hell is it? And why don't I have any real friends? Maybe, I need to diversify my friendships. I need some gay friends. Those with the title friend
all need some form of help and it's as if they’re all reaching out to me for something and I don't know how to give them that something ‘cause I don't know what it is? I'm not perfect. Who am I to help them? I need help. We all have issues. They all have issues; as do I but, they only come around or call when they need something. Maybe it's something I'm doing wrong? Guess, I'll pray again. I need to sleep.
I do not tell my mother, father or brother about my questioning, because I feel they wouldn’t understand. I talk to my girlfriends and kind of hint (in my own way) about some of my life concerns, but they are content with being in boxes of the same old dramas and imply I need to chill out. My girlfriends talk about the negative experiences in their lives, and see me as a sounding board. I know deep down inside there is more to life than what I experience. Am I forgetting something I need to remember? I just cannot verbalize the what, how, why and when? Maybe, I'm crazy. Maybe, I’m just insane.
One night, after dinner, and when the kids were in bed sleeping, I start walking circles, in our family room confused and back to questioning my life experiences. What's wrong with me and what did I do?
My husband Charleston says, Nothing is wrong with you, and everything is okay. Whenever something goes wrong, it’ll always work out because, it always has…
. I heard him, but, do not listen to him. I continue questioning and cannot escape the cycle. I’m missing something, but, I don't know what it is…? I ask Charleston if he thinks I need therapy. He tells me if I feel I need someone to talk to then I should do go talk to a therapist. So I call my doctor and request the name of a therapist. She suggests three therapists. I call all three to see if one accepts new clients. Each therapist said they did not offer the kind of help I was seeking and our insurance plan would not pay for services. DAMN, I'm trying to get help and just got a door slammed in my face three times. Maybe I'm just too emotional and understanding things in the wrong way.
I questioned everything external. Losing weight may change my life and help me gain more confidence. My brother Lee told me a couple of years ago, Maybe you can’t get a job, because of your weight!
I think I look okay in my size 12….losing weight might change things. Did he just call me fat without saying it directly? Maybe, I should stop putting chemicals in my hair to straighten my curls, because chemicals are harsh and not healthy for my hair. I want to wear my Afro again, I miss it. Maybe, I need to change the way I dress. Sometimes dressing up in different styles of clothing changes my mood. Maybe I need to be a better stay-at-home Mom. The kids could benefit from more one-on-one time. Maybe, I just need a hobby. Sewing would be fun. I'm going to reorganize the house and spend more time with the kids. Maybe my