Divinely Touched is a story of personal transformation. It chronicles Mary's spiritual awakening, how she was divinely saved, led, and transformed. From the depths of depression, from battles with physical ailments for which the medical profession had no explanations, from being led into worlds she never knew existed, she survived being taken to the underworld. She was guided and healed by light workers, shamans, and avatars from this world and the spirit dimension and led on a journey of personal, physical, mental, and spiritual healing. Mary's experience, like that of a caterpillar when transformed into a beautiful butterfly, is one that will inspire, enlighten, and transform your life as well. Dr. Dave uses science, research, and "knowledge of the ages" to explain what Mary experienced and open worlds to the reader that they may never have imagined. Divinely Touched: Transform Your Life can, in fact, do just that. "With painstaking detail, Mary describes her descent into darkness and her triumphant return. Like Margaret Starbird, in The Goddess in the Gospels, who also has a spiritual awakening that took her into the realms of psychosis, Mary describes a similar personal descent into darkness before bursting forth into spiritual awareness. Inside you will find a compelling story that may help you or someone you love" -Maureen St. Germain, author of Beyond the Flower of Life & You Are the Genie in the Bottle "The world is waiting for this powerful story of good vs. evil. Mary's story is amazing, compelling, eye-opening, and courageous. Her faith has carried her through the darkness into the light. She is God's instrument and truly a living expression of divine light flowing forth into the world. Divinely Touched is a must-read, and you won't want to put it down. It will blow your mind" -Pat Hastings, Author of Simply a Woman of Faith: How to Live in Spiritual Power and Transform Your Life "Mary's amazing

Divinely Touched: Transform Your Life

By Mary 'Divine' DiSano Dave DiSano

Balboa Press

Copyright © 2011 Mary 'Divine' & Dr. Dave DiSano
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4525-3744-3

Contents

Dedication:...........................................vForeword..............................................xiiiPreface...............................................xviiAcknowledgements......................................xxiI ~ Divine Beginnings.................................1II ~ The Physical Battles Begins......................12III ~ Divine Meetings: Soul Mates.....................42IV ~ My Divine Journey:...............................95Divine Moments........................................177V ~ Divine Signs......................................187VI ~ Divine Consciousness.............................215VIII ~ Spiritual Healing..............................264IX ~ The Divine Race..................................294X Epilogue............................................309XI Divine Resources...................................312XII A Divine Glossary.................................321XIII Divine References................................333Suggested Further Reading:............................335

Chapter One

I ~ Divine Beginnings

* * *

Divine: (adj.) of or pertaining to God, sacred, from God, heavenly, godlike.

Am I Crazy?

"You're way too young to be this psychotic," my psychologist told me as she made arrangements for me to be treated elsewhere. She was fine seeing me weekly at $150.00 a session, when I was just discussing relationship problems after my divorce. But, once I started to describe to her how I was seeing people's faces changing, or it seemed like someone else was looking back at me in the mirror, she thought I was delusional and was worried I might hurt myself, and she didn't want to be liable!

So, after years of seeing her, she was shipping me off. Abandoning me when I needed her the most. I thought to myself as I left her office, "Good thing I didn't tell her everything that was going on, or, she certainly would have had me committed to a mental hospital on the spot!"

Nor, did I tell her that what had happened to me before and during the two weeks I had spent in a hospital the previous month, for what my family surely thought was a nervous breakdown. And, at the time, I wasn't sure myself, that I wasn't having one.

Now, as I look back I know what had happened. All the pieces fit together. Everything makes sense now. Just as I had battled the forces of darkness, journeyed to the underworld, I was also saved by the grace of God and led on a divine journey that continues today. Sure, the old saying is hindsight is 20/20. But, I believe right now the most important lesson I have learned though all my trauma, near-death experiences, and hospitalizations is that everything in life happens for a reason, and in my case a Divine reason.

To begin making sense of my journey, we have to go back two years before that day when my psychologist was shipping me off to someone else. For I've come to believe:

That you can tell a lot about the present, if you know about your past.

In my case, everything that has happened to me in my life was to prepare me for the battles with the forces of darkness, that led to my spiritual awakening. That led me into worlds I knew nothing of, or, for that matter, never even knew existed. Worlds of seers, psychics, lightworkers, shamans and avatars. But, before I get into the events that led to my awakening, perhaps I should tell you a little more of where I came from and how I started on this incredible journey.

Growing Up Catholic

I was born in 1962, on May 1st, which I have come to find out is the day of the Queenship of Mary. I was blessed by being raised by two spiritually minded, wonderful parents. I had a two-year older brother, and a pet dog named Athena. My father was a college English professor, and my mother stayed home with the kids until I was in elementary school, then she worked in finance for a major corporation in Providence, Rhode Island.

I attended Catholic school from the first through the twelfth grade. I worked hard in high school and was an honor roll student. I started working part-time in a local bakery when I was fourteen, and then at a drugstore through high school. After high school, I had an option to go to school for free where my father was a professor, but I choose to go to another local college that had a better reputation in business and finance. In retrospect, my parents must have been very disappointed in my choice, but they didn't mention it at the time and supported my decision, as they did when after a year in college, I left for a full-time job in a large company in Providence.

My decision to leave college was based on a number of factors. I felt overwhelmed working full-time while maintaining a full academic schedule and because of changes in my home life at the time. I started dating my first husband, Burt, when a junior in high school, having met him through a mutual friend when I was sixteen. We were friends for a couple of years, and we dated for two more years before getting married when I was twenty.

Being the more practical, financially minded one in the relationship, I decided to drop out of college before we were married in order to start saving money for our new life together. Burt was beginning a career as a carpenter and, in what turned out to be a pattern throughout our married life, had an inconsistent income. Using my interest and brief college experience in finance I started out in the accounts payable department in a large company in Providence, Rhode Island.

In the beginning, Burt and I were also your typical young married couple. Both starting new careers, living in a third floor apartment, saving for our own home. On Sundays we would go to church and then have dinner at the parent's. On Saturday night we were out to dinner and a movie with another couple. During the work week I had a nine to five schedule and I would rush home after work to make dinner for us. I would clean up after dinner, make my husband's lunch and get my clothes ready for the next day, and by then, it was time for bed.

To say that we were in a routine after a few years seems to be an understatement. I remember once discussing this with Burt and his response was, "This is life, get used to it!" But, somehow I knew I was destined for more, and slowly came to the realization it would be without him at my side.

Always feeling very connected to God, I remember framing a poster on my own, that I really loved, and that I hung in the den of the first house we owned. The poster was entitled "My Name Is I Am" and it read:

I was regretting the past And fearing the future. Suddenly my Lord was speaking: "My Name is I AM" He paused. I waited He continued: "When you live in the past with its mistakes and regrets, It is hard. I am not there. My name is not I WAS. When you live in the future, with its problems and fears. It is hard. I am not I WILL BE. When you live in this moment it is not hard. I AM HERE. MY NAME IS I AM."

Burt's astrological sign was a Leo, and he exemplified a Leo male in every way. He was the king of the jungle (and the house), always right about everything. When we were first married, I guess I was more tolerant with his mannerisms. However, as I grew both chronologically and professionally, I became more and more less tolerant, and less patient with his impatience. And, it didn't help that he seemed to become even more controlling as our marriage went on.

One time, when we were going to a birthday party for one of his nieces I had on a dress that I thought I looked good in. However, Burt didn't like it and told me to change or he wouldn't take me. When I refused to change my dress, to my disbelief, he left without me! Another time, we were discussing something in the car, and when I didn't agree with him he told me to get out of the car, and he took off to go home. I started to walk home. After a few miles it was starting to get dark. I was getting cold, and scared walking by myself, so I decided to call a girlfriend to pick me up. We went back to her house, and a few hours later I called him later to pick me up. When he got there he yelled at me for not walking straight home, telling me that it would have only taken me an hour and half, if I had gone a certain route, and I could have made it before it got dark. He wasn't concerned that I had to walk home, but that I wasn't walking home the right way!

Sometimes, no matter what I did, it wasn't good enough for him. One night for dinner I cooked a meatloaf because I knew he liked it. When he got home and I told him that I had cooked a meatloaf, his response was, "I was at mother's I don't want anything now." As I took it out of the oven, I asked him again, "You sure you don't want any now? It's ready." With that, he grabbed the meatloaf, threw it across the kitchen, and screamed at me, "Didn't you hear me? I told you I didn't want any!" All I could think of was, "Boy, I would love someone to cook me dinner or try and please me!" At the time, I never knew what it was like to have someone serve me.

Professionally, I became a supervisor of the accounts payable department, overseeing five people and millions of dollars in revenue, but, at home, I felt like a maid. Burt was becoming more and more controlling. I was told what to wear when we went out, what to say, and, eventually, he told me what I should be thinking and what I should be feeling, because, if it wasn't what he was thinking, or feeling, I was wrong. I wasn't even allowed to have my own feelings. Eventually I had had enough!

I guess it all came to a head one morning when he started to yell at me for being late for work, as he sat there in his pajamas playing video games. He was between jobs again and, in his controlling way, started to prod me for not being at work right at nine o'clock. I wasn't overly concerned because I typically stayed later than five o'clock and put a lot more than forty hours in a week. As our "discussion" escalated, I told him, perhaps, I wouldn't go into work at all that day. His reaction was to throw a glass at me, that shattered on the floor, spraying upwards at me, just missing my eyes. My reaction was to get a suitcase, throw some clothes in it and go to my parent's house. I had had enough of his controlling, egotistical ways, and I was not going to be abused physically, after being abused verbally and psychologically for so long.

It had gotten so bad, my emotions were so frazzled, and my self- esteem was so low, that I started to a see a psychologist towards the end of our marriage. I started to become extremely obsessed with how I looked and would spend hours in front of a mirror staring at my self, picking myself apart. My psychologist diagnosed me with Body Dsymorphic Disorder (BDD). Burt's continued controlling and belittling of me was taking its toll on me. As I was being torn apart by him on the outside, I was tearing myself up on the inside, continually putting myself down.

I guess when you are a teenager or, even in your early twenties, you don't notice being controlled, or perhaps, you accept it more. At least I did. My father was an "old world" Italian male. He did little to help around the house. I grew up watching my mother do all the housework, all the cleaning and cooking, while working outside the home full-time. It just seemed expected at the time to me. So, when I was first married to Burt, it wasn't unnatural that we lived just as my parents did, but, after a number of years in corporate America, talking to other career women, I started to realize that perhaps a marriage should be an equal partnership in every way. Each contributing financially to the partnership and in their work effort at home. My eyes began to open as I grew up.

"There's a new Mother Nature taking over" (finally!)

The next year proved to be extremely difficult. I had been with Burt for close to nineteen years, and suddenly, I was on my own. I had never been on my own or alone as an adult. To say I had second thoughts about leaving him was another understatement. To make it more difficult, he kept asking me not to go through with the divorce. He said that if we got back together, he would change. Even in the courtroom during our final divorce proceeding, he asked me not to go through with it. It was one of the hardest decisions I had ever made. I did love him, but I knew he would never change.

Two years earlier I had left after an argument and stayed with my parents. The second day I was there, Burt came over and pleaded with me to come home, saying that he would change, that he would even go to the doctor's to get pills to help him control his temper (and he hated taking pills). So, I did go home after a couple of weeks. And, things were better, for a while. He tried to control his temper. He helped out around the house, he even considered my feelings, however, after three months the old Burt started to show up again. He was quick to anger, and did little to help at home. He wasn't working, yet he was expected me to do all the housework, all the shopping, and all the cooking, after working eight or nine hours a day.

So, I persisted in going through with the divorce, feeling that he wouldn't change, believing that we just were not compatible. "We have been conditioned in life to think what is outside is more important than what is on the inside." ~ Ramtha (J.Z. Knight) What The Bleep Do We Know!?

Transition Years

For two years after my divorce, all I did was work and go home to my house and my new puppy, a beagle I named Felicia. My girlfriends all seemed to be married, so they didn't want to (or weren't allowed to) go out with me. And, there was no Internet or Internet dating at that time.

My first boyfriend was Simon, who whisked me off my feet so speak, and wanted to whisk me away period. He was a project manager for a national retail chain store, building new stores for them. He would go into a new location and manage all aspects of the store construction until the store opened. A project might take him six months in one location, then he would be off to the next site. He was from Southern California and looked and acted like it, tall, blond, and easy going, with a great sense of humor.

Simon made being with another man appear easy and natural for me, even though it took quite a while for the scared little girl inside of me who hadn't dated in seventeen years, to subside. He taught me how to date again. And, it was exciting to be wined and dined as an adult But, Simon's project was coming to end after a few months and he didn't want us to end. He asked me go back to California with him and make our relationship more permanent. It was another difficult decision. As attracted I was to him, I couldn't think of leaving my home, family and a secure job. He left, and I was alone again. But, perhaps I was left with a little more self-confidence.

I no longer stayed at home on weekends by myself. I had enough confidence to go out to a restaurant or club on my own, rather than staying home and feeling alone or sorry for myself. That's how my next relationship started.

I was introduced to Peter through a mutual friend I had met at a club I went to on weekends. Peter and I hit it off immediately. He was distinguished, mature and witty. He was a successful semi-retired businessman that loved to go out. Again, as with my relationship with Simon, he was quite a contrast to my married life. It seemed as if I had always had to twist Burt's arm to go out on a weekend. And, then we usually doubled with the same couple, year after year. Now, I was with another man, that, like Simon wanted to go out to dinner every night. I enjoyed forgetting how to cook, and even how to clean.

When Peter and I were out at a restaurant or club we had a great time. However, things started to become a bit more strained when we were at his house. I remember how impressed I was when he first took me there. It was a spacious ranch house, with an immaculately landscaped yard, with an in-ground pool in a private backyard. The inside was even more impressive and immaculate. I soon learned his house was his obsession.

Peter convinced me to move in with him after a couple months of dating. Talk about another contrast to my married life. It was as if I was a queen living with Peter. He wouldn't let me lift a finger. He did all the housework and we ate out every meal. He had a huge kitchen in his house that was spotless because he never used it. I soon realized that his cleaning obsession was in fact a disorder. When it came to his house he was extremely OCD. His Obsessive Compulsive Disorder was to the point that nothing could be out of order. If I opened the silverware drawer, I had to do it carefully so nothing would shift around, or I would hear about it!

Once, I was watching TV and Peter came over to me, took me by the hand and led me to the bathroom. He showed me that I had changed a roll of toilet paper the wrong way; it had to be the over hang of the roll had to line-up with the line of the nearest tile. After a few weeks of this I moved back home. I was not going to live "walking on egg shells" again (not that he would ever have one on the floor!).

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Divinely Touched: Transform Your Lifeby Mary 'Divine' DiSano Dave DiSano Copyright © 2011 by Mary 'Divine' & Dr. Dave DiSano. Excerpted by permission of Balboa Press. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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