I think I know now who will change and who will not. Who will awaken and who will not or cannot. There are all kinds of good and valid reasons not to change. Change is difficult, painful, exhausting, frightening. I lived in terror of change for most of my life, and when, late in life, I finally awoke and crossed over, I knew my life would change forever, I knew I would never go back. It is possible, at any point, to change your life, to turn inward, to listen to the voices and spirit and spark inside of you and set them free. Night after night, year after year, I popped those pills so I would sleep and dream put a great mountain between me and my life, between me and change.

Lulu’s Crossing touched me in a particular way because it was such a simple and visible metaphor for crossing over. We stop at the bridge, we stop at the gate, we pause at the door. If we go through it, there is no turning back. At age 50, I ran to the mountain to begin my search for self-discovery, and here I am, 15 years later, still on the road, still learning every day, still surprised every day, my soul awakened to a sense of wonder at every minute of life I have to live. It will not be in fear, it will not be in the service of other people’s ideas of a life, it will depend, as Hannah Arendt wrote, primarily on the intercourse between a man and himself – me. I am still on the road, I know now there are magical helpers everywhere waiting for me, recognizing me, reaching out to touch my heart and brush against my soul. When I saw Lulu stumble at that crossing, bray softly and turn back, I knew we had to get over, for me, not for her.

I remember those first steps so clearly, so much pain and separation and terror, so lonely and confusing, so many people turning away in unease and confusion. I am so lucky to have gotten across. And to find, that there, just a few steps away, after all these years, is just another bridge. And another.