WIP – Niagara – Chapter 7.

It should be known that before you read this, if you choose to do so, that this book has already been written. I am just now putting it all together, piece by piece (each piece is from a different year, which absorbs completely different outcomes and is one of the reasons I find it hard to complete). This is one attempt, and it is only an attempt at that. Nothing solid, as that will be obvious soon. Trying to sort through it all as I go. Thank you for reading.


The hairs rose up in waves across my neck as he leaned over and whispered in his psychotically-tilted voice, as it always seemed to be, “All the most brilliant minds are right here, ya know.”

I nodded, pretending to go obliviously about my business that night behind the barista stage, but something inside me wanted to jump across the counter, grab his collar, shake him violently and scream into his eyes until all his secrets ran down his chin like blood, “Tell me what you know!” I understood fully, but the powers that be at that time wouldn’t let me reveal even an inkling.

Another man, about 20 years his senior, shouted at me across the glass casing where all the sweets were kept from wandering hands, “Do I stutter, Elizabeth?!” A violent fist shook the counter. He was enlightening me through our seemingly simple conversation about deer having the ability to see violet light, assuming I did not know, which I knew perfectly well, that he was referring to me being the light and him being the deer.

That night however, I was so taken aback that I had no choice but to pretend I was the one stunned, again, assuming the barista role acting as if I were too busy to listen to his nonsense. Everything in my soul wanted to chase him out the door and yell from the doorway toward his car, arresting him with, “I am! I know!” Maybe then he’d explain more.

Instead, I ran into the bathroom with phone in hand to desperately text my friend, who had just moments ago asked me what it meant to me to be in a place called home and with whom I had just had a conversation about white and violet light radiating from our being.

Out the door I’d go and no sooner did I turn around did I see another standing at the foot of the door. Him. The cadence within a young man’s eyes, glued to mine, that could no longer keep a secret, had the ability to creep through the windowless souls of onlookers and curious musicians alike. He was one of them after all. A curious musician … never a windowless soul. In fact he bore holes right through mine, reflecting a gold aura as we locked eyes and as rainbows formed across the street.

Gazing was a thing of the past in his world. This was assault.

Again, I assumed position as the oblivious one, but my body’s natural vibration in tune with his couldn’t keep still. It rocked me solid, until he’d finally leave the shop, where my knees then turned to putty and swept the floor with the water that had become my shallow grave, delivering the last cosmic blow.

Everyday was on repeat.


“And God said, This is the token of the covenant which I make between me and you and every living creature that is with you, for perpetual generations: I do set my bow in the cloud, and it shall be for a token of a covenant between me and the earth. And it shall come to pass, when I bring a cloud over the earth, that the bow shall be seen in the cloud: And I will remember my covenant, which is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh; and the waters shall no more become a flood to destroy all flesh. And the bow shall be in the cloud; and I will look upon it, that I may remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is upon the earth. And God said unto Noah, This is the token of the covenant, which I have established between me and all flesh that is upon the earth.”

Engraving on The Rainbow Bridge, Niagara Falls

It was September 11th, 2010. It was a particularly busy day, overwhelming to say the least.

It was a very special day, as I instinctively knew I was getting married today, to whom, I hadn’t had a clue. But everyone asked why I was so giddy in the coffee shop as I pressed on and filled my last shift with beaming smiles, holding back tears of joy.

It was the Divine Union I had been warned of in my visions and dreams. “I AM GETTING MARRIED ON A RAINBOW, ” I confessed, not once, but twice, on a Fisher price tape at the ripe ‘ol age of 3.

Even the man, to whom I gave all the money in the register to, knew. I had lost my ability to count money because I was so blissfully distracted. He laughed of course, but I remember him taking the tip.

As time wore on, I grew ever the more agitated. I turned to my supervisor after I had had enough. “Can I quit now? I know who I am.”

I knew who I was. But it was secret to most. I had died and risen again only a few months back and in the history of mankind, only one other person was able to complete such a feat. I wasn’t him though, although I had, at times, assumed I was. I was his wife. His bride. But I was much more than this. I was the Mother of all creation, including God himself. I was the Mother of God and the sacred bride, waiting for her groom.

The man who gladly accepted my money asked where I was headed. I said, “I must go to NYC and then Niagara Falls because there are everlasting rainbows there…the covenant of God.”

Tears flowed from my supervisor as she knew instinctively that time was up, and I had discovered the ancient secret held for eons. She knew she had to let me go because this was of utmost importance. Saving the world was a tad more important than slinging drinks for the upper class in King of Prussia, I assure you. I had work to do.

She took me out back, hugged me through tears and as I left, she called my emergency contact, my former boss and best friend. She cracked over the line and responded to her pleas, “It sounds like something Liz would do.”

I got into my car, punched in Rainbow Bridge, NY in the GPS, rolled down the window as a helicopter flew past to see me off and drove off toward home to say goodbye to my dog.

No sooner did I leave the parking lot, did a huge tour bus barrel past my car with the words NIAGARA, scrolled across the back. My heart lept and I slapped the sunroof and shouted with joy. Confirmation! On y va!

I had awoken too early, defying even prophecy of the greatest kingdom to come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.


“Every life transition has its “zero hour,” that moment when everything that came before it is different from everything that comes after.”

This was the quote that did it. The words that threw me over the edge. The prophetic statement that foreshadowed everything that was to come.

As if it were some traumatic event that changed the course of history, I can remember exactly what I was doing before and after I wrote those words, exactly how I felt when I saw them and where I paused to desperately post them for everyone to see. They described everything I was going through at the moment in a simple statement, everything I was sensing and feeling but still had no words to articulate. Little did I know that what I was going through in that moment in time was but a fleeting glimpse into the events that unfolded in the months ahead.

At that moment, I felt so euphoric that I thought I had died.

Somehow. Supernaturally. Metaphorically. Spiritually.

That was just the beginning.

This idea of a UNION weighed heavily on my spirit and became a theme in my life that is unraveling still to this day. I suppose it was always there – preying upon me in the shadows and dancing with me in the light – waiting for the day I recognized it in my mirror. Upon recognition and ignition, my Higher Self stopped me in my tracks and made me fall to my knees in reverence with tears flowing, and my spirit soaring and soaking in the light that radiated from my being.

cadencemusic A progression of chords moving to a harmonic close, point of rest, or sense of resolution.

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There was so much light, I wouldn’t be surprised if I had, alone, projected the rainbow that rose above my view in that moment. It cascaded across the sky and revealed words imprinted on a fork lift that sat motionless in my parking lot for a week. BIG LIFT, it said. I hadn’t noticed until that moment and those words are forever etched into my soul.

BIG LIFT, indeed. Yet, ironically, I was plastered on the floor trembling with tears pooling around my throne as I fell. Grow ‘Til Tall, on Jonsi’s album, GO QUIET, was blasting from my speakers.

You’ll know, when’s time to go on
You’ll really want to grow and grow till tall
They all, in the end, will fall

You’ll know, when’s time to go on
You’ll really want to grow and grow till tall
They all, in the end, will fall

You’ll know, when’s time to go on
You’ll really want to grow and grow till tall
They all, in the end, will fall

Grow till tall, they all, in the end, will fall
They, in the end, will turn and fall

You’ll know, you’ll fall
You’ll know, you’ll know
You’ll know, you’ll know
You’ll know

You’ll, know
You’ll, know
You’ll, know
You’ll, know
You’ll, know
You’ll, know
You’ll, know
You’ll, know
You’ll, know
You’ll, know
You’ll, know
You’ll, know
You’ll, know
You’ll, know
You’ll, know
You’ll, know

I am not sure what it was that did it. Was it a word? A text from God? A serendipitous moment with a musician that looked me in the eyes as if to say, I SEE YOU? Was it magic that infested every bone and flowed through every vein? Maybe I was something much greater than I first assumed. Aren’t we all?

It was July 19th, 2010. I had died and risen again. I had perished an old sense of self, I had experienced an ego death where my old identity came crashing to the floor like that of dead skin or woman’s water breaking as she transcends into labor. I lay there on the floor rebirthing a new identity, of which I knew not. A new identity I didn’t know for five years to come.

Everything in that moment had changed. I was in love. With something. With someone. With myself. With life. With everything. As one whole.

Every judgement. Every worry. Every fear. Disappeared.

It shouldn’t have come as a complete shock to my system. For months prior, years even, I was being warned in dreams and visions to prepare for this moment. Prepare for something bigger. Prepare for this BIG LIFT. Angels on high swiftly told me to get my act together and straighten out my ways, for I was being prepped for the meeting of a lifetime.

They would swoop in and pack my bags. They cleaned up my beer bottles lying around the house. They adorned me with jewels and they applied make-up to my eyes, the likes of which would make Cleopatra writhe in envy. They sent me visions, they sent me quotes, they sent me firm messages from beyond, and they sounded off in reality as well. Sign after Sign revealed itself. Synchronicity after Synchronicity composed a symphony. Knowledge poured into my brain at the speed of light. And unconventional wisdom was pulled from my being like the crumbling of teeth.

Preparation began in the physical, but still I shouted at the sky, “Prepare for WHAT?!”

Even though I was frustrated about what lay around the corner, I still was gleaming as euphoria rose up through my body in waves of almost unbearable heat. From the tips of my toes to the crown that now lay upon my head.

I waved to everyone. I waved to the sky on many occasions, thanking those looking down. I waved to helicopters. I waved into the abyss as I traversed this new footing and new unknown.

I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt. Someone was watching my every move.

The undulating waves of knowledge, wisdom, insight, signs, synchronicity, and heat were too much for my soul, body and mind to handle at the initial onset. I had literally lost my mind.

My guides were looking down with regret a few months later, as I lay in the hospital gurney only to tell of tales that no one could possibly understand, let alone believe. She had gone too far. The timing was off. Even angels get it wrong sometimes. They are not perfect.

Or maybe it was a test of my bravery, my intuition, my sense of self, my umph, my cha, my love, my universe, my soul, my everything from the beginning of time.

In which case, I aced that with flying colors.


I went to Niagara Falls on a mission with the best of intentions. Of course I was denied access into the Country and handcuffed, but that is a story for another day.

I ended up back on the US side and at a Blues Concert. I met a few guys in a group who pointed to this really swanky hotel in front of us that looked like a castle. They pointed to the top of the building that was glowing royally in all its purple glory.

They said, “You know, you can rent the pent house if you want! It overlooks the Falls.”

Yes sir! Okay! Challenge accepted.

It was key access only. Apparently it wasn’t a hotel at all, it was an apartment building. By that time it was raining. I had to wait in the rain for a while until someone with key access strolled by. Once they did, they let me slip in front of them.

I ran to the top of the building in search of the pent house.

I came across a couple and I asked why we couldn’t get out onto the balconies. They said, ‘Suicide prevention.’ It was a really high building.

I climbed so damn high that I actually ended up in this small cramped space with a latched-door above my head. This was after I had opened someone’s door because I thought it was the pent house. Yes, someone’s home…I opened their door and walked inside. Who does this? It wasn’t the first time, nor the last. I walked right out.

Back to the latched-door at the top of the building. It wouldn’t open on my first try, so I busted it open with a King Kong fist-like motion on a peg. It opened up towards the sky and dropped down onto a platform as loud as a barge hitting another. Imagine that sound.

The rain started falling through the building and cutting into my skin, sliding down my face like the Falls themselves.

To my surprise I was on the rooftop of this royal purple, castle-like, apartment building.

I looked around and was in complete shock and awe. Niagara Falls, right there…and the river in the night. The rain poured down and saturated my clothing…the cold piercing my skin.

I had no music. I had no one to dance with. So, I danced with the tunes playing in my head and I danced alone. I spun and spun with my arms in the air, whirling a tornado of rain around me. My face to the sky and my arms outstretched over the river. My cares slipped away over the edge, and all was right with the world again. I was ecstatic. I was high on life. I was euphoric. I was manic.

I never did find the pent house.

I found something much better suited for me … No limits. No restraints. No ceilings.


The whole world watched as I drown, but the heavens and earth stopped to take a bow as I took my first steps over the edge.

Where I lay, the waterfalls had descended and washed ashore. They draped my body, falling over every contour, mimicking the source from which it came and warming my cold, stunned flesh. Every drop soothed my aching muscles and rapid-fire brain. But nothing could sooth the complete and utter defeat I felt deep within my soul.

How did I end up here? How did I fall? How was I still alive? Was I clearly slipping away? Was this all an illusion? How did I end up on the cold, hard ground with warm water running over me like a cruel mind game, as if to abruptly and mockingly wash away every single dream and memory I’d had in my entire life. As if to reiterate the harsh reality revealed to me minutes before?

I slipped between the rocks below and landed in a pool of healing waters that seemed to come alive, trying to revive my lost and broken spirit. I lay fetaly, curling up as if to protect myself from the realization that my soul’s deepest desires had not come to pass at the appointed time.

Up until that moment of impact, I had been running and flying free. My freedom and Calvary had been ripped from my grasp the moment I fell.

And I sobbed.

I sobbed as the world laughed. After all, they knew how the story ended.

I didn’t actually jump. And I never planned on it…not alone. We all knew that. We were watching it as it unfolded. I slid instead. Down a cold, wet wall, scraping my back along the tiles as I collapsed to my knees onto the shower floor into a wet and naked pile of mind, body and crushed spirits. I let the water submerge and heal my body as I cried tears that had been welling up inside of me for years….possibly my whole life. No, maybe lifetimes. Actually, make that eons. Every single dream, imagination, belief, perception, song, intuition, and longing that I had ever acquired in my life suddenly came to a screeching halt and filtered down the drain.

The psychiatrist started to walk out of my bedroom but something stopped him. He glanced back at me, as if I were a lost girl swaddled like a newborn in hospital linens. He had just finished delivering a life sentence – Bipolar One, with Psychotic Features – just as my Mother had experienced most of my young life.

Was there anything he could say to make that sting less? Was saying anything just a lost cause? Did I even understand the gravity of the situation and what transpired the night and months before? Or was there some truth in the words that spewed out of my mouth during the week-long evaluation?

There was care and concern in his eyes. All he could manage to blurt out to comfort me was, ‘These meds won’t change your essence ya know…you’ll still be just as bubbly and energetic as you are now.’

I just stared into nothingness, because deep down, I knew better.

He put his head down and walked out the door, reluctantly shutting it behind him…leaving me alone to process everything that was just said. Outside my door he taped a note that said, ‘’Call. Don’t Fall.” These were signs specifically for the suicidal patients.

I was anything but suicidal.

I was alone.

And the whole world was watching.


The reality of my awakening wouldn’t come for many years. In between then and now, those of us that have been through the awakening to our higher selves and those of us that have embraced this, have witnessed similar experiences. My goal is to bring these (sometimes traumatic) experiences to the surface and to validate anyone that has been through it all and to make sure that no one feels alone. There is a greater purpose. I wouldn’t dedicate my life to this if I hadn’t been profoundly influenced by this phenomena my entire life and if I didn’t think it were so. It’s not what you think. It’s not what you saw. It’s not what you know. It goes much further beyond.

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