the story of the word alchemist
Something most people don’t realize about me is that I did not try to become ‘the Word Alchemist’; it happened over time to me … and channeled through me.
I always knew I was different, even as far back as childhood. My mother would always tell people that out of her five children I was the only one who never spoke in ‘baby talk’. She swears that as a young toddler, I could assemble words into complete sentences.
What I remember most about my childhood was my fascination with the church. I communed with Spirit long before I understood what that meant; and unlike most of my schoolmates who longed for the weekend to escape rules and regulations, I longed to go to church each Sunday. I’d sometimes attend church with my family, sometimes by myself and sometimes with friends.
I look back and laugh now: There I was inviting myself to church with any classmate who would take me. I’d show up at a family’s home bright and early Sunday morning and would happily jump into their vehicle ready to attend whichever church they frequented!
By the time I was 14, I had circulated between nine different churches located in my community and some in nearby cities! I consciously chose to attend a Catholic high school where they had uniforms and mandatory mass each Friday, I loved it! I talked a lot with Spirit. And Spirit spoke back.
By age 16 my life took a dramatic turn…
Or rather a traumatic turn, there were 3 deaths that happened (a family friend, my grandmother and my best friend ), my parents divorced and I was sexually abused. I found myself lost and confused. I stopped going to church and I became disconnected. I don’t know if it’s because I felt tainted and ashamed or it was the heightened sense of intuition that came after the repeated sexual assaults by my friend’s uncle. The trauma made me bury my memories of being ‘groomed’ and convinced by my friend’s uncle that we were meant to be soul mates, it also shifted my attention away from ‘church’ and towards mysticism, parapsychology, and metaphysics.
By the time I’d reached my 30s, I had found myself searching for a spiritual community, and before long, I was the leading the children’s program and was the coordinator for the many church volunteers at Unity Church.
I occasionally traveled to speak at other Unity Centers in Canada and the USA. At that time my husband was putting the words, the teachings into song, which we sold on cassette tapes to our workshop participants so that they could continue singing the words daily. With my husband being a Juno-award winning singer and performer, we were in bliss working side by side, each of us shining our lights.
Now, I bet you can imagine how elated I was when I found out at age 33 that I was pregnant. The birth of my daughter, Athena, rocked my world in a way I never imagined possible. My husband and I decided that we wanted to raise our daughter and later, our son Eli (another blessing who came along when I was at the ripe age of 40) off the grid—meaning away from the hustle and bustle of busy life. We did something so rare it even made the news: We built our home in the side of a hill using a passive solar method of building that forms a symbiotic relationship with the earth as a source of heating and cooling.
You have to understand; this was no ordinary home. This was a unique concept that was pioneered by architect Michael Reynolds.
We built this home by creating structural walls from “ramming earth” into discarded automobile tires and using pop cans, glass bottles, and cement for interior walls. This was an extraordinary place. In fact, we were so invested that for the first few months before we had any walls, we slept in a tent on the property while we and some hired help built our masterpiece. It was home. Sweet home. We called it the Mothership!
The Mothership was my oasis: a 7,000-square-foot sacred place that had 100-acres for the children to play outside. We had pineapple and banana plants growing to considerable heights in our indoor greenhouse (this is unheard of in Canada; tropical fruit trees are for the hot climates).
For nearly ten years, our life included spiritual gatherings for families both large and small, we hosted Tibetan Monks for a week, a Shaman from Peru, a Pipe Carrier from Ontario, as well as sharing our home with Aboriginal Leaders who needed a private gathering spot. We had potluck dinners and often fed 20+ people on any given night. Our home was the place to be, it seemed.
One huge sacred space!
My husband and I were living our dream life, not always straightforward, not always perfect, but perfect for us. My life consisted of daily gardening, un-schooling the children, and hosting guests, while my husband continued to make music in our top-notch recording studio, all contained within the Mothership.
And then the worst day of my life happened…
The Sheriff knocked on our door and told us we had to move out. Now. Leave the twenty huge pineapple plants to die, get your stuff, and get out.
Long story short, my husband is a Canadian Juno-award winning singer and producer and we had depended upon his royalty checks to fund our future. But when we stopped receiving money, we discovered that the titles for his songs had been tampered with, and there would be no more royalty checks in the mail. Not to mention, we had no recourse.
We’d been bamboozled. Duped. Tricked.
Losing the Mothership was like losing my dream. My future. My plans. My faith.
I had no idea at the time just how much my identity was wrapped up in a 7,000-square-foot dream house
In any case, we gathered up as many of our personal belongings as we could and took our two children and moved in with mom into a small three-bedroom home in the city. Neighbors as close as a stones’ throw. My husband and I had to share a bedroom with our son. And our daughter seemed as though she had lost faith in us—her protectors and providers.
The truth is, I’d lost faith, too. I felt forlorn, like a loser, as though I’d let my husband, children, and even my close friends, down.
The really hard part was that people had shown us such great kindness when we had our home to share with them, but once we lost it, many of those same people were cruel and much more willing to point at us and ridicule.
It hurt. It hurt plenty, but I still had a tiny bit of truth and strength inside. I knew “God doesn’t make mistakes.” I knew there was a plan and I had to trust what I could not see.
As I tried to process and heal, I began to paint. I talked a lot with Spirit. And Spirit spoke back.
I did not try to make oracle cards. Or word potions. As I already mentioned, I didn’t try to become ‘the Word Alchemist’; it happened over time to me … and through me.
Spirit had bigger plans for my life! And Spirit has bigger plans for your life, too!
It was exactly eight years to the day that we were removed by force from our home that I had the feeling—the knowingness—that I had to experience that loss.
My life in the Mothership was not meant to be a forever life. I realize now I would never have stepped into my power living there.
My massive loss of worldly identity was the start of me finding me!
As I healed from this setback, I promised myself to create something magical with Spirit.
The Alchemy System was born!
It’s a simple way to take the edge off, to remove some of the stress we all endure while in human form. The cards, magic wand, and word potion activities will help you to undo triggers so you can enjoy reclaiming any lost part of your life.
The Alchemy System will support you in making bold new choices and taking steps you might never have considered, as they assist you in trusting yourself and your inner knowing. They help you see the past through new lenses and with the magic of alchemy, your strengths, and true gifts can come to light and show up in the most unexpected and delightful ways
Lisa Starr Francis
~ The Word Alchemist