A Gift From the Magic Island

This isn't an article about internet marketing. You can find lots of articles about internet marketing at . This is an article about a life-changing experience that happened to me on "The Holy Isle."

To get to the Holy Isle, you travel to far North Scotland, take a ferry to the Isle of Arran, and then arrange with a local fisherman with a boat to take you over to the Holy Isle.

I was on the Isle of Arran to play gig with my blues band. While I was there, I received an amazing gift. Keep reading...

Sometimes the Universe talks to you in a voice that you can actually hear. Let me tell you about the time it talked to me.

Off the North coast of Scotland is an island. It's a rough cut jewel. You can only reach it by ferry. It's called the Isle of Arran, and it changed my life.

Driving from the ferry landing to the Aldershyde hotel, we passed through old emerald green forests, rough beaches, steep drop-offs with dramatic vistas... in the space of about ten minutes.

I was on tour with my band, and it was my first trip to Scotland. Looking out the window of my hotel room, I saw an island off the coast of the island. Asking around, I learned that it was the "Holy Island." It has a long and colorful spiritual history, and is currently a retreat site with a hostel, restaurant and coffee shop, and a meditation garden.

The next day, I took a much smaller ferry to the Holy Isle. To get to the meditation garden, I had to thread my way through a small herd of wild horses.

There is a walking path around the island. I had a private picnic sitting on a wide boulder. A long-bearded mountain goat stood nearby, watching me eat. For a Texas boy, it was an amazing scene- the island rising up behind me, the ocean in front of me, a long-haired goat watching me eat, and wild horses in the distance.

Continuing my walk, I noticed a grotto about the size of a small bedroom, that had been naturally carved in the mountain. Something called me to enter that grotto and lie down.

After a few minutes, I discovered why they call it the Holy Isle...

It's alive.

As I lay there in that grotto, on that soft bed of grass, the Holy Isle took me on the most fantastic guided meditation of my life.

It had me visualize a treasure chest, located at my solar plexus.

When I opened the chest and looked in, I saw filth and mud. That pretty accurately described my inner state at that point.

Looking at the sludge, I asked the island, "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Breathe it." The island answered.

"Right." So I did. And as I slowly and deeply breathed into the sludge, the sludge disappeared, leaving me with an empty treasure chest.

I understood that. Like a baptism, the Island had given me a new start. I could fill that treasure chest with more sludge, if I chose to. Or I could choose to fill it with treasures. My choice. But I got to start over with a clean container. That was the real treasure.

I heard a voice say, "there's nothing to be ashamed of." Now, like everybody, I have internal dialogs. I sometimes talk to myself. But I don't hear voices.

That day I did.

And then the meditation was over. I got up, walked over to the artesian stream and drank the cool mountain water, and then finished my walk. Took the ferry back to the Isle of Arran. Went on with my tour and my life, for a while. But after you've been held and cleansed by the Holy Isle, things look a little different. My life started to change. It's still changing.