Personal Stories
While the Lemurian Fellowship offers instruction in metaphysics and Truth, its primary value lies in helping people from all walks of life and in everyday experiences. Perhaps in what is being shared in these “personal stories” in the lives of Lemurian students, you may find something similar in your own life.
One student wrote
I wish every beginning student could see himself and all the problems he had at the start, and then get a tiny glimpse of how I feel and how peaceful my life is. There are many more places I need to grow, and am trying. But the main thing I have achieved is a profound gratitude for being surrounded by so many blessings -- everywhere and all the time. In 1970 the life I now have would be only an unlikely illusion. And there is a most surprising thing: the more I give thanks for the good that is mine, the more blessings appear.
Another had this to say
When I first started searching for the Lemurian Fellowship I didn’t really know what I was looking for. I had just read a couple of books about lost Lemuria...I was extremely intrigued by what I had read and felt a longing to know more...nothing struck a real solid chord until I found the Fellowship.
The path I have started upon since that day is an exciting one and although I initially thought I would “try it for the first twelve lessons and see” I do believe I am in for the long haul now. As it says in The Sun Rises, “Once started upon the work of the Great Ones, there can be no turning back.” It has changed my life in countless ways, too many to enumerate here, but all of them good. Now I have a purpose, a goal and a focus.
A Nigerian who lived through the Biafran War writes of finding the Lemurian Philosophy.
Like the student who wrote much about his/her experience since becoming a Lemurian student, my experiences are no different. When I retrospect about events in my life from my very youthful age, how I was led out of my poor environment in regard to education, Christianity, and through my country’s struggles at that early part of the 20th century, I count myself most blessed. I had been searching for answers from one Truth organization to another. Finally in December 1958 a friend handed me a copy of Into The Sun. Then the journey began, and the quest from one organization to another ended. So now most of my prayers are “Father I thank Thee, Thy will be done in me to achieve the purpose of my existence.”
A Teen’s Cry for Freedom
During my son’s teenage years he encountered many difficulties, struggling in school and using drugs at an early age. He had a very hard time following the rules of the house that were set up for his protection as well as to keep our home environment as peaceful as possible for all the members of the family. His father and I tried reasoning and punishment. We tried explaining the dangers of his drug use. We explained how his actions were affecting members of the family, and that his actions had consequences. We took away privileges, grounded him, took him to therapy, and enrolled him in treatment programs: all to no avail.
When he was 16, things became difficult. At the time, I did not realize how much pain this situation was causing me, or the strain it was adding to a troubled marriage. That year my husband and I separated and when his father moved out, I became fearful of my son’s actions. We enrolled him in different schools, but it didn’t help, and he eventually dropped out. I saw that his bringing drugs into our home was something I needed to guard against, and he as much as admitted he didn’t see any reason to live by my rules. I tried searching him when he came into the house. What I didn’t realize was that it was all becoming so nerve-wracking that I was slowly edging toward a state of depression, not to mention distracting me from the problems of my other child. My fears were at times, almost more than I could bear.
As my son neared his 18th birthday, something happened to change things. He and I had one of our many arguments about my home and my rules and he walked out. A few hours later, he called to say he was staying at a friend’s house to “cool off”. At this point, I’d had it! I told him that if he wanted to live by his own rules, he was no longer welcome in my home, and should go and live where and as he pleased. This was excruciating for me. I loved him then, and still do love my son. A part of me very much wanted him to come back home, but I couldn’t continue to live that way. So, when he chose to remain with friends I let him go.
The Lemurian Philosophy helped me trust that, bleak as it seemed, everything would work out for the best. It helped remind me that each individual has the right of self-determination, but that I couldn’t continue to take care of this son who was determined to be an adult. He would have to experience the results of his choices. My son’s actions were telling me that he wanted to be allowed to be on his own and make those choices. As immature and wrong-headed as I believed him to be, clearly I could no longer change his thinking, and was probably doing him a greater kindness by letting go.
This occurred a number of years ago. Today my son is an adult, and he and I talk or see each other every few weeks. He learned early that I did not intend to support his bad habits or to bail him out when he got into trouble. Because of this, I believe, he has grown a little wiser, a little more careful, and much more responsible. He is working and, I believe, proud of himself. I have reached the point where I can visit with him and hear about his life without feeling that I need to lecture or tell him what I think he should be doing. I can just listen, love him, and offer advice on the rare occasion when he asks for it. In fact, we both seem to be doing a lot better.
Letting Mom Go
Have you ever cringed at thinking you’d turn into your parents someday and vowed, “This will never happen to me!” When I faced losing my mother from a sudden illness, my feeling about this changed overnight. Since then I’m proud to hear that my smile or mannerisms resemble hers. It’s comforting to feel I always carry part of her with me.
It started with what I thought was going to be a pleasant visit, but Dad was complaining about Mom and she was complaining about him, which was unusual. What on earth was all this about? Then fear took hold as I started noticing changes in the Mom who always had a kindly word or a warm smile for everyone.
I knew I had to tell Dad of my concern about Mom, and this wasn’t easy. He was an old-fashioned father who concentrated on earning a living while Mom took care of home and children. With little time together, we never developed an easy way to talk. And now I had to talk to him seriously about Mom. I prayed for help to say the right thing, knowing from the Lemurian Philosophy that our prayers are answered in a way best for all concerned, and then plunged in.
Dad listened, and then there was a breathless pause. He agreed what she was doing was unlike her, and said he’d take her to the doctor. As we began talking to my brothers and sisters, we found they were concerned, too.
Mustering up my courage to help Mom understand was the next hurdle, because she was unaware of the change in herself. But she took it well when I told her she didn’t seem like herself lately and I was concerned. She agreed to go see her doctor with Dad.
Focusing on how our prayers are answered helped me handle the almost unbearable heaviness in my heart when we learned she had a brain tumor. Mom was a Lemurian student for many years, too, and she helped me in one of her clearer moments. She talked about our belief that good comes from all experience, even when appearances seem otherwise, and how fortunate we are to have been building strength with the Philosophy for times like this. Something good was coming our way.
It was hard to keep this in mind when the tumor interfered with her usual practical approach. Mom constantly changed ideas about her treatment. Turning again to prayer, I began to feel the type of treatment was not the problem if it was her time to go through transition/physical death. My challenge was to concentrate on whatever help I could be to Mom and my family and get beyond my fear. This struck a chord as the answer to my prayer. I resolved to trust the outcome of this life and death situation, for all my life I’d had a lot of fears I felt incapable of facing. I knew it was time to trust that God knows better than I do what is best. I was able to calm myself and concentrate on helping her and my family with this last part of her incarnation.
Mom’s surgery went well and for a short three weeks, she was her old self. Then complications took her life. Though devastated, I kept thinking about our talks about our beliefs, and many times in her sweet way she had said, with acceptance, this was her time to go through transition. It struck me how smoothly steps progressed – seeming obstacles to her wishes fell away, as if there was a schedule of events leading to her passing. To me, there could be no other truth because of the good that came out of this experience.
Letting Mom go was one of the most difficult times in my life – and I miss her. But the pain of losing her is slowly being replaced with the good of family relationships that continue to grow closer as we help each other through this. I know in my heart all is well.