As Truth Evolves

From Stark Light to Radiance

Once upon a time, I opened my eyes to a closet-sized room in a high-priced “retro” hotel I’d stumbled upon while wandering the dark streets of San Francisco after the police had kicked me to the curb at three a.m.

Sunlight hailed through the open blinds and pummeled me with remorse and dread. I winced against the glare, assailed by images and sound bites from the previous twenty-four hours. Revulsion welled as I grappled with a truth becoming increasingly difficult to deny.

I had been arrested for driving under the influence—the one criterion for being a “real” alcoholic that I hadn’t yet met. I was due to be in court in a few hours, but I wouldn’t make it. I urgently needed a drink and feared that if I didn’t force myself to move, I would get stuck there for days, unable to crawl far from the toilet.

As the room wobbled to a stop, I ducked my head, shielding it from waves of pain, and staggered into the bathroom. Leaning weakly against the sink, I cupped water to my lips. Waves of dizziness knocked me back to bed. Bile ebbed and flowed. I reached for my rumpled clothes and strained to dress, making a concerted effort not to hurl.

Recoiling from the wretched creature in the mirror, I hastened out, barely making it to the elevator before collapsing against the back wall inside. The doors nearly closed; the floor jolted, and the cables creaked and groaned. I realized the décor was not retro; the place hadn’t been maintained or refurbished in years. A glance at the lobby in the daylight confirmed this.

None of this suited me. However, I could narrate it as I wished, and it would become the truth for me—or rather, my perception of the truth: my ego’s interpretation.

Our egos resemble fairy tale characters, each caught in a drama of fear, pain, and longing. The Evil Queen gazes into the mirror of narcissism, while Elsa’s frozen world embodies the stillness of isolation and depression. Simba, Rapunzel, and Captain Hook don the armor of trauma—vigilant, guarded, and haunted. Scar’s behavior illustrates antisocial personality disorder, while Maleficent’s reflects borderline personality disorder. Piglet quivers with anxiety, and Dumbo cowers under the weight of shame.

These mental disorders reflect manifestations of the ego rooted in self-centered fear. However, the ego knows nothing. The reality it perceives is not objective; instead, it is a limited, judgmental projection of its internal, often wounded state onto the world.

We live our lives trapped in these stories, labels, and conditions, never realizing that we’ve clipped our wings or that our freedom lies in simply shifting paradigms and choosing to fly—like Dumbo with his big ears. He was embarrassed by his greatest gift.

After my arrest, I fled the state. I was constantly running from the truth. A false narrative held my allegiance. I was a victim who had been abandoned and abused. Nothing was fair or my fault. Blame was my ego’s favorite way of separating me from others and God. The evidence I collected to support this seemed irrefutable. It took a miracle—a significant shift in perspective—to dismantle my narrative.

Several years later, I appeared in court in San Francisco to confront who I had become and begin atoning for my mistakes. That arrest was the least of my troubles, and the many “facts” I dealt with in early recovery marked only the beginning of a twenty-year journey toward truth: We are aspects of the Divine, many-faceted prisms, here to shine our unique lights in the world, perfect in our imperfection.

The hero’s journey calls us inward—to move from separation into unity, limited perception into true vision, judgment into forgiveness. Along the way, we reclaim our power by recognizing how our stories have shaped us—and how they no longer have to define us. Through awareness, we strip away the ego’s illusions and step into our authenticity. As we shed the layers that once kept us hidden, our true selves are revealed in all their magnificence. However fear may try to disguise itself, Love remains the answer—and the doorway to our greatest becoming.

Still, I resist life’s call, clinging to old wounds and stories to protect me from a truth too vast to control: that I am Love itself. I am a ray of the sun, a wave in the ocean—carrying hard-earned wisdom—yet fear holds me back. I remain hidden, my soul eclipsed by my ego’s defenses, blocking Love’s flow.

I share my story without fully owning it, hiding behind Adobe Firefly images and fairy tale analogies like a shield. But if I genuinely want to help others, they must trust me, which means I must trust them first. I must lower my defenses and let Modern Fairy Tales transform into Soul, Eclipsed, so I can reach the hearts that need me most.

Yet, even as I accept, love, and forgive me, old patterns and the grip of my ego pull me back, tempting me to believe I am less than the truth of who I am. Shame lingers, and I feel like Dumbo—ostracized, burdened by a past I can’t fully release, haunted by the lie that I could have done better.

Like Dumbo, I lost my way, but I’m finding my wings. And even though it scares me, it’s time to claim my power—and show others how to claim theirs.

We are not here to live from the ego’s fear but to embrace the soul’s truth. When we overcome the ego, the world opens up—and everything becomes possible.

We know the Truth: We are the all-powerful energy of Love.