I wrote stories about a great love in my mind. You can also call it daydreaming or escaping. Why, you ask, it could as well be called visioning, visualizing, manifesting, and living in the end, no?

No, because what I dreamt of was impossible for the version of me I was then. I dreamt of a Sacred Union—not a relationship, a Sacred Union. I didn’t want to get married because it is what you do—but as an extension, as the only logical consequence of two Souls committing to each other, through all phases of life. However, I secretly hoped that this Sacred Union would solve all of my problems and make me finally feel whole and worthy as a woman and as a human. I also dreamt of a form of intimacy and sexuality that I was not able to experience, feeling disconnected from myself and my own body. It felt as if I was locked into myself, unable to express what I felt inside me.
And so, in this sense, without doing inner work, these stories were an escape, a daydream. How do you know the difference between a daydream and a vision? For everyone familiar with addictions: it’s the feeling after a cigarette, a glass of wine, binge eating & vomiting. You know you shouldn’t—but you did, to give yourself some relief (from the reality you can’t seem to get out of.) You also feel that you are not a match to the scenes in your dream (currently, because the true you is). In short: after an escape-daydream you feel guilty and your real life feels dull. After visioning, you feel changed and hopeful.

Then, 12 years ago, out of sheer Grace, I fell out of a great darkness into Love. It happened within one split second in the armpit of a beautiful man named David in a hotel in Lausanne. You will get to meet him throughout the book. After feeling single my whole life, even when in relationships, I felt my love story, my soulmate, my twin flame, my Sacred Union had arrived and my life could finally begin. Instead, I entered a one-sided love story that painfully taught me what I really wanted: to be in (a state of) Love. In general. Meaning: deeply connected with and appreciative of myself, my life, Life itself—and God. And from this place enter Sacred Union.

Several years passed. Several versions of me gave birth to the next. I witnessed others meeting their great love, and I was watching them, standing on the sideline, also of my very own life. Frustrated, I started to study conscious creation. I turned to it out of lack, longing, and desire. I got results, and met wonderful men, with almost precisely the traits I had intended—but I did not feel the way I wanted to feel.

When you embark on this path, the path of conscious creation, at one point, sooner or later, you become aware that it is not about getting something or someone, it is not about realizing your dream—but growing into your Wholeness and Worth, seeing yourself the way God has created you and sees you, realizing that you do not have to beg or steal from Life. The dream (whatever that dream is for you) is only the vehicle to get you started with changing into who God has meant you to be and to pull you through the darkest hours of change.

So, here is the story of my dream, the one that I had always wanted to write, live, and grow into. When I start writing a screenplay, I always start with one scene. The scene that touches me most. And I build the story around it. In life, this scene is called a vision. A moment you want to experience. This is not a workbook or a how-to. However, I want to invite you, while reading, to create or refine your very own scene.

Let’s begin.