Who am I? Kevin asks.
And then he adds something: “…to receive information about me from a place that’s actually larger than I think myself to be.
Right away, I hear something within. It’s so loving. It’s addressing me, telling me something. I know right away that I will not share it here in this preamble. I won’t risk it.
Then my throat tightens and is a bit painful, knowing that I have something I won’t share with others. I’ve decided I can’t tell someone else what I heard from a place that’s larger than I think myself to be. Even though what I heard was totally loving.
Then I hear Kevin say: “….let that be felt, that sense of desire to know, who I am….and step back…”
There’s a billowing out in my body. A sharp pain in my right shoulder. I sit back and ask the question again, and something in my throat tightens again. Tears come, that don’t express one emotion but a cloud of emotion.
And now I change my mind: I’ll tell you one part of what came—it answered that I am beloved.
And I notice how hard it is to tell you that.