My Baptism at a Motel 6 (and What It Taught Me About Love & Surrender)

In October of 2019, I embarked on a road trip with my fiancée Vanessa, our dear friend and mentor Carla Mora, and her two Morkies—Chewbacca and Whorf. Our destination was Nashville, Tennessee, where Ancient Aliens producer William Henry was hosting a seminar on the ancient Gnostic ascension teachings of Christ. But before I even arrived, I had already unknowingly begun my initiation into Christ consciousness.

Meeting My Future Self

A few days prior to our journey, I attended a “Light Activation” session in Manhattan with Mirabai Devi, a spiritual teacher recommended by a friend. During a guided meditation—where I had set my intention to embody Christ consciousness—Mirabai led us through a visualization in which we were to meet a guide at a mystical waterfall.

When my guide appeared, I initially thought it was Jesus himself—I could feel the energy of Christ consciousness. But it wasn’t Yeshua. Then, I thought it might be my father; it sort of looked like him, but no it wasn’t my dad. But then I realized: this was my future self!

In Dr. Joe Dispenza’s book Becoming Supernatural, he describes a meditation experience where he interacted with his child self, helping his past self heal.

Future me did some “energetic surgery” on me—he removed decaying, necrotic material from my neck, shoulder, and arm. (I carry my stress in my neck and right shoulder.) In its place, he implanted crystals. Carl Jung might call this the alchemical process of nigredo giving way to albedo—the dissolution of the old, impure matter to make way for spiritual illumination.

Back to the Future is one of my favorite movies of all time, so the idea that my future self was meditating to reach me psychically—helping me on my journey—felt exciting and profound. Maybe this is the phenomenon people refer to when they talk about “healing timelines.”

A week before this, I had been in meditation and had a conversation with my mother where we forgave each other for our difficult relationship. It was a big shift for me. I had been avoiding thoughts of my mother for the decade since she passed, assuming she would judge me for my beliefs and lifestyle. Since I had been doing so much work around my relationship with her in the weeks leading up to this, I believe that this vision was symbolic of clearing energies of judgment and unforgiveness—toward both myself and my mother.

When I came out of the meditation and opened my eyes, I witnessed a man prostrate on the ground before Mirabai, kissing her feet. My reaction was visceral—repulsion. Why would he do that? She wasn’t God; she was just a person! I recoiled at the sight of submission. All my years in the Christian church had programmed me to believe this was idolatry. I was highly offended.

Baptism at the Motel 6

Halfway through our road trip, we stopped for the night at a dog-friendly Motel 6 near Harrisburg, VA. It was a small motel that, although technically clean, had the feel of a rundown roadside lodge that had received a cheap facelift. Lipstick on a pig.

The beds were uncomfortable, the sheets rough to the touch. I couldn’t tell if the faint odor of cigarettes was from someone smoking in a nearby room or if it had been embedded in the walls for decades. The walls were paper-thin, making every sound from outside and neighboring rooms feel as if they were happening in our room. Chewbacca and Whorf were on edge, barking and growling at every noise. It wasn’t the best place to get a good night’s sleep—but they allowed dogs.

As I lay in bed, reflecting on all the spiritual shifts I had been experiencing over the last few weeks, I prayed for my angels and guides to initiate me deeper into Christ consciousness.

Moments later, I felt my third-eye chakra ignite, immediately followed by my crown chakra. A white-hot light surged through my body, illuminating each chakra in succession. Orbs of light pulsated at my root, third eye, and crown.

As this was happening, I was so shocked that I began narrating the experience to Vanessa, who lay beside me—until a spirit hovering above me shushed me. I could sense Carla’s presence. Though she was asleep in the next bed, her energy was unmistakably there. Mirabai’s energy, too, lingered in the periphery, though I did not feel her as strongly.

Was this the kundalini awakening I had heard people talk about? I wasn’t sure exactly what was happening, but it felt both incredible and important.

I think what excited me most was that I could sense the astral presence of Carla and Mirabai. Maybe my psychic abilities were activating?!

In the morning, Carla woke up exhausted—a combination of the accommodations and the astral work she had done.

Wearily rubbing her eyes, she asked, “Did you feel anything last night?”

“Yes!” I excitedly told her the story from my perspective.

She explained that a team of spirits had been working on me during the night. And then she said something that struck me deeply:

“Your mother was watching. She is proud of you.”

Christ, Kundalini, and the Alchemical Union

The following day, at William Henry’s seminar, he spoke about the baptism of Jesus by John as a spiritual activation—how the descent of the Holy Spirit was a symbol of kundalini awakening.

Everything clicked.

I had prayed for Christ consciousness.
Carla had baptized me.
The white-hot energy rising through my body was the same sacred fire that descended upon Jesus in the Jordan.

This was not just a metaphor—it was a living, archetypal experience. Jung might describe it as the hieros gamos—the sacred marriage between the human and the divine, the merging of ego with the transcendent Self.

And then, in a moment of overwhelming gratitude, I felt the impulse to do the very thing that had repulsed me days before—I wanted to bow down and kiss Carla’s feet.

I suddenly understood what that man had felt in his relationship with Mirabai. It wasn’t idolatry or worship. It was appreciation.

There, during a short break in William Henry’s seminar, with tears in my eyes, I shared with Carla my deep gratitude for the role she played in my healing. I got down on my hands and knees—between the auditorium seats—and kissed Carla’s feet.

From Resistance to Devotion

Jung teaches us that what we resist most fiercely is often the very thing we need to integrate.

My initial rejection of the man kissing Mirabai’s feet was my own unconscious fear of surrendering to humility. My pride could not tolerate the thought of bowing to another person—of giving them power over me. I saw it as an act of submission rather than an act of humble gratitude.

What I was most afraid of was surrendering to the pure, unconditional healing love that people like Mirabai and Carla transmit.

Receiving unconditional love requires deep submission.
Submission requires humility.
And humility requires a foundation of worthiness.

My Christian upbringing taught me that I was not worthy—that I needed Jesus to make me worthy. My resistance to receiving unconditional love was rooted in the belief that I was not worthy of it.

I then held resentment for feeling unworthy—and projected it onto others. “Mirabai isn’t worthy of being worshipped!” But in truth, what I was feeling was: I am not worthy of unconditional love.

 The thing blocking me from experiencing Christ was the belief that I was not worthy of Christ!

Once I was able to receive that love—through my relationship with Carla—I lived the transformation.

My resistance dissolved.

Devotion is not about subjugation—it is about recognition.

Recognition of the divine moving through another.
Recognition of the sacred act of transmission and initiation.

That road trip to Nashville was more than a pilgrimage to a seminar. It was my baptism into Christ consciousness—an initiation that transcended doctrine and entered the realm of direct experience.

This is the path of the mystic:
To die and be reborn.
To let the old decay fall away and be replaced with crystalline clarity.

Sometimes, the road to Christ runs through a Motel 6.