Long Story Short: The Purpose of Her Collected Visions.


The visions began the first time she attended a group meditation at a New Age spiritual center in South Florida.

Astonished by her experience, the meditation instructor asked her to keep quiet because she was frightening the others.

Keeping quiet about her profound, gorgeous visions became a requirement.

Her meditations, both in groups and alone, were revelatory. Her meditation teacher encouraged her to describe them in a meditation journal. Surrendering to the task, she asked Spirit to help her explain the visions, and it worked. She began by writing the date, and minutes later, the vision would be fully described in stunning, symbolic detail on one side of notebook paper.

She marveled at how it happened, but didn’t question it. She knew her mind wasn’t equal to the task of describing what she had seen, even with 20 sheets of paper.

Page after page of exquisite visionary experiences filled her notebook. What would she do with them? She encountered the idea of personal ascension, and realized the visions were propelling her rise in consciousness beyond the human experience.

Her family moved to Tennessee. Meditating solo was  the only option in “Where y’all go to church?” country, and she kept her mouth firmly shut while her consciousness soared. During this period of involuntary introspection, clarity came: the purpose of her collected visions was to enable her imagination to write about personal ascension. She began immediately.

She kept quiet. Southern Christianity does not abide women having ideas, never mind visions. She read voraciously of all things spiritual. She found a Unity Church near Nashville that was almost open-minded enough for her. Some Sunday mornings, the group energy propelled her into vibrating bliss that frightened some members. She was asked to rein it in.

Her husband rejected his ascending wife, filing for divorce after the Twin Towers fell. Her new reality was divorced mother of three, suddenly poor. Crucifixion, American-style.

She must have been ready, because a new teacher appeared. Grateful, she began group meditation again. Her consciousness was lifted up to receive the seamless garment of Light and witness the seraphim angels. Encouraged by her teacher, the book was completed.

Writers were still submitting paper copies then, but nobody wanted it. One publisher’s rejection letter said, “We would publish your book if you were somebody.” A trusted friend who knew her story suggested a new way: self-publishing.

So that’s what she did. After a couple of months of fine-tuning, she held the first finished copy like a newborn child. A Christmas gift bought 25 review copies, delivered to her door.

By now, she wasn’t being so quiet. She needed readers. This was Nashville — surely somebody knew a somebody, but no. Maybe it was the subject matter. In the Bible Belt, who would go out on a limb for a book about ascension? Even getting friends to read her book was challenging. Some were frightened. Demons were mentioned, because fundamentalism. Many just said no. Some faked reading it.

But some, particularly lapsed Catholics, were amazed.

She created a website and blog. She scoured the internet for potential reviewers. Her teacher provided a brilliant review, and there were a few others from friends. She consolidated the reviews she had collected when her book appeared on Amazon.com. She entered keywords, and posted chapters on her blog to boost online appeal.

By July she had one review copy left. Amazon had sold a few and the book had a five-star ranking, but she had exhausted all potentials for finding a somebody to review her book.

Enter serendipity. And Google.

By now, she was decidedly single. Finding someone for a person like herself in the home of the Baptist Convention was simply not going to happen. She was fine with that. Her standard was a Jesus-man, and those were in terribly short supply.

Idly googling during her lunch hour, she came across an intriguing website, audaciously called God’s Website. She began to read the numerous articles. Whoever wrote them was an advanced soul — open-minded and totally in tune with Spirit. She looked at her last review copy, thought maybe, and contacted the webmaster. He said yes.

When he emailed his address, she sent the book. He later admitted that he regretted saying yes, but once he started her book, he finished it in one sitting. He called her immediately because he knew, just knew, it was their destiny to be together.

After that one phone call filled with impossible synchronicities, she knew it too.

That’s how the twin flames met. She in Tennessee, he in California. They corresponded and talked, exposing their souls utterly. They were like trees from a single seed, thousands of miles apart but roots entwined nonetheless. Nine days later, arrangements were completed: they would be married in California on Labor Day, sight unseen. Who needs sight when there is vision?

Labor Day became prophetic in its own way; it was arduous labor to combine two such complex lives with extenuations… in the Bible Belt. To call it a roller coaster would be a gross understatement. Misunderstood and even shunned, they see their lives as perfectly difficult.

Meanwhile, their twin souls have not left the encompassing bliss of oneness, together like yin and yang. The two live and work together like left and right hands.

14 years on, this is our story.


Libby Maxey is a mystic and visionary voyager into the “What If?” She’s a wife, mother, nana, irreverent reverend, writer of books and blogs, transgender advocate, and egalitarian. Libby lives with her adoring twin flame genius husband in small town Tennessee, where they mostly keep their ideas to themselves… except in written form. Her highly-rated book titles I Am Liberty and One Becomes One are available on Amazon.com.


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