Over the years, I've shared the story of my encounter with the Energy of Unconditional Love with many people. Jay (not his real name) was one of those people. He lived in San Francisco and occasionally rode my bus from Petaluma to Sonoma to visit his girlfriend. About thirty-five, he was quiet and shy but after a few trips together, we became quite friendly. I tend to talk about the magic and wonder of life, which is a pretty non-threatening subject. Eventually, I got around to telling him about my experience on Mt. St. Helena. After a moment of silence, he said, "I've had a similar experience."

Jay's Story

He went on to tell me that one evening, while driving home after work on Mission Street in San Francisco, he felt emotionally overwhelmed. Pulling off the street into the darkness of an empty parking lot for privacy and to avoid an accident, he folded his arms over the steering wheel and put his head down.

When he closed his eyes, he became a young man in his early twenties, naked from the waist up, staring back at himself in a hallway mirror. Like his present self, he wore his red hair tied back in a ponytail. His arms were cradling a small baby and when he looked at it, he knew was himself. Looking up from the baby, he saw a young adolescent version of himself standing beside him. As he looked from one version of himself to another in amazement, an older soothing male voice spoke to him from somewhere behind him. (He thought it came from one of the bedrooms behind him--perhaps because he felt the need to have a body attached to the voice.) In any event, the words made him feel love for all that he is, something he had not experienced before. Like me on Mt. St. Helena, the man sitting behind the steering wheel of the pickup truck sobbed uncontrollably.

After telling me his story, Jay went on to describe what it was like for him growing up. Whenever he made a mistake or did something his parents didn't like they would scream and curse at him. If he forgot something, he was a stupid idiot; if he made a mistake, he was a stupid idiot; and if he failed to do what they wanted him to, he was a stupid idiot. He told me that once, he forgot his truck keys in the house and when he went back to get them, he stopped in front of the mirror to scream and stab a finger of guilt at himself to emphasize how stupid he was. He had internalized his parent's method of behavior modification, which only reinforced self-hatred and self-loathing, not love.

Is Jay's story an example of Divine Intervention? I think so. His unique Inner experience helped him feel love for himself, something his outer experience wasn't doing. On a final note, Jay said he's never shared this story with anyone because he thought they would laugh at him and think he was crazy, especially the people he knows in San Francisco. That's sad but now that he's shared his story with me, I'm sharing it with you with his permission. (He said he would give me the written details of this story so I could write it up and publish it on my website but when he dragged his feet, I asked him to tell me the story a second time in case I had to write it from memory, which is what I have done.)