Where Do I Begin?
I think that’s the question woman and mankind have been asking for as long as we’ve taken it upon ourselves to live as humans. Bear with me as I weave Marilyn Monroe into this. This may be the most surprising piece you’ve ever read – or the least surprising. My deepest hope is that you will simply feel a deeper connection to something you have always known.
People don’t surprise very easily these days – especially with constant headlines of “the most shocking revelation ever” on everything from tabloids to cereal boxes. “Shocking” is nothing but an ad campaign word anymore. So I won’t say this will be a shocking revelation. I hope it will be a pleasant and freeing experience of the heart. Nothing shocking.
How Will I End Up?
That’s another one of those trick-questions, isn’t it? If you think you’re here, you die, and then you are worm-food, who cares? Right? If you think you are spirit and you have a body-house for a moment in time and then you go back to heaven and play harps, you better get it right in your first and only life – so that you’ll at least qualify for harp duty.
What if we are eternal beings who for some reason wish to live as humans over and over again? We choose to have our memories erased on a conscious level as we begin each new-to-us lifetime. But what if memories of past lives start coming back to you, or at least strong feelings, messages and connections that you cannot run from or deny? What then?
To be someone who came to illuminate others in her own way, but was never quite taken seriously, can break a person inside. The spirit often does a “reset” and another lifetime begins. Was it suicide? Was it murder? Was it all part of the plan?
We Don’t Have to Reincarnate Immediately
Some do. Some do not. We may wish to guide others, help others heal, and enter again into a realm of rebirthing ourselves. Calm, peaceful, in the amniotic ocean of the universe we find our center, our true selves again. We realize our message, our heart’s song again. We come back to sing it, even if we do not “sing.” Why, you may ask, is it important to know who you were – when all that you can do now is deal with NOW? I believe it is important to come to a place of peace. In a way it doesn’t matter in the least “who” we were, but just that we were, always have been and always will be.
Yesterday I had a ghastly, yet freeing experience. I saw autopsy pictures of Norma Jean Baker-Mortenson-Dougherty-Monroe…better known as Marilyn Monroe, yet as “Marilyn Monroe” she wasn’t “known” at all. In a very real sense, there never was a Marilyn Monroe, just as there never was a Fred Flintstone. Sorry, someone had to be the one to tell you. Marilyn Monroe was and is an image. Norma Jean was a spirit, and a woman who created the concept of “Marilyn Monroe.”
In studying one person, we learn about many. When the story is personal we can FEEL the feelings they felt, because we share the same hopes, dreams and capacity for feeling.
Looking at the autopsy pictures, which I personally feel should have never been put into a YouTube video or publicly put anywhere at all, I felt horrified, sad, and yet suddenly totally free to tell my story. Oddly, the profile name of the person who created the video is “EON,” which to them stands for “End of Numbers.” For me it represents Endymion Oracles: Nina’s Story (EONS), a book about a powerful goddess.
Yesterday I saw pictures of a shell, a house… yet the spirit isn’t there. It is sad. It is scary, because it shows our mortality. It also showed me our immortality. People don’t put the autopsy pictures on mugs and t-shirts and wish to remember Marilyn in death. They celebrate the spirit that lived in that body. They celebrate pictures of youth and vitality and beauty. They look at the pictures to reach the spirit. The woman is the spirit. The spirit never dies.
The Shell is Nothing Without Her Charm and Laughter
A performer has the desire to entertain, and bring joy to others. But the sadness of the story is the soul’s inability to hold onto any of that joy for herself. The desire to entertain comes with the desire to be noticed, admired, paid attention to. It is all a desire to be LOVED. And Norma Jean had a big hole in her heart where there should have been loving family to guide and support her. There was not. Some did try to fill-in the void. There were aunties and adopted mothers, and a beautiful half-sister, and a wonderful niece. But there was not a mother who could truly love her, no father in the picture. Marilyn Monroe saw fame as love and she ran to the fire with both arms wide open, waiting to be warmed, she was burned up instead.
Still today, celebrities crash and burn right and left.
Still today, people seek fame and fortune and power – when they’ve SEEN examples of this and the agony that the famous often suffer. There’s a SHOCKING TRUE REVELATION right there for you. Being a celebrity sucks. Get it?
In my lifetime as Heaven Lee, (I later changed the spelling to “Leigh”) the last thing I ever wanted as a child was fame. I did love to sing though. I did dream of being in movies, but I loved my privacy, being alone, tuning to the deep well of my own imagination. I loved to write. I loved to be in what I saw as a safe and normal family. But who ever has one of those? What is normal anyway?
At first the stories I wrote were of ideal lives and “The Kingdom of God,” as I was taught in a less-than-traditional type of church. I tried to put a pretty façade on their idea of eternity with men as lesser gods to the “one true God” (who seemed very harsh as they described HIM). Women and children were seen in that church as the property of men. Somehow after being slaves to the men for our entire lives, as “spirit beings” after physical life, women would finally be equal to men in receiving their reward from GOD (who was a man of course). It was never put by the church into exactly those words, but that was the gist of it. In a childhood of feeling less-than (because I was a girl) I had to create my own fantasy worlds… if nothing else… just to survive the harshness and humiliation. I developed a love of writing stories and singing.
At the tender age of 11, my parents pushed me to overcome my fear of going on stage solo for the first time, and then I fell in love with performing. It must have been for the same reason anyone does it – entertains – for the love that you give through your work and the reciprocation from those listening, watching or reading what you have to offer.
I was always a rebel in my childhood church, albeit an underground rebel. I still tried to obey the main teachings of the church, and sacrificed what I wanted to do at every turn. Yet I did manage to keep writing and creating. My stories of elementary and junior high school became songs poured out from the questions and experiences of my heart.
So what does any of this have to do with autopsy pictures of Marilyn Monroe?
Her spirit touched mine as she left this world and I entered. I was born on August 6, 1962. Her spirit probably touched many as she exited her spirit’s human shell. But there have been personal extraordinary parallels with her that I cannot shake off. They are proof of nothing, of course. I only share this because I realize that I have nothing to lose, and possibly this can be helpful to others. If I die again without telling what I feel because I fear that others will make fun of me or worse, it is just possible that I will come back again. I’ll get another chance if I blow this. So why not share what I know if it can be helpful to someone now? Here goes.
Marilyn Monroe: The Same Soul?
When calculated with where Marilyn died and where I was born on the planet, an astrology expert confirmed my curiosity. In her words: we are both the same soul. In my astrological reading there were many things that lined up, surprising the astrologer as well as prompting me do much more in depth soul searching. Many people do not believe in astrology or reincarnation. I believed in neither for the first 30+ years of my life. My mother only mentioned that I was the reincarnation of Marilyn, as a silly joke. I never believed her. In many ways it doesn’t matter who we were – only that we keep learning as people, only that we move forward in love and enlightenment. It seems very foolish to try to connect myself with an icon, yet each time I push it away it comes back with more force. There must be a reason.
I waited several years (after first feeling this connection consciously) before seeking confirmation outside of myself. Some might say that I am the reincarnation of her. What woman wouldn’t want to be? I don’t want to be. Yet I do, because I don’t wish to turn my back on whatever this is meant to teach me – and others. Many women feel connected to her spirit. She represented the seductress we all wish to be, and the playful child we all wish to stay. She was vulnerable, yet she was strong enough to build a hugely successful career on her own. She got it – success – because she wanted it – badly. But the cost in the end was entirely too high. We have the coffee mugs and t-shirts with the gorgeous image. She died lonely, tormented and sad. She lived that way too, but with a smile and wink for her audience. Nobody wants to be tormented and sad. Maybe it is just her spirit that whispered her message to my infant ears and then continued on its way. Who knows? I may be far from the same soul. But I know that I carry her soul’s message. I know that. So I’ll give the message and let the rest take care of itself.
I can think of many reasons to NOT want to be her soul, her spirit. Many. Who would want to come back into the world with a soul filled with so much sadness, fighting every minute to establish some sort of sense of self-esteem for yourself? You see, this would be part of the package – of being her soul.
Who would want to be so frightened that someone would find out, and the crushing fame would return, and the bitter end would replay itself? Who would want to see a shell of her former self, and realize that she had been weak and wasted that life in many ways? The beauty, the glamour, the image, all to get attention for the truth of her message – wasted – gone too soon. Who will give her message now? Still, though we’ve come so far as women, we have not yet progressed from the point of feeling we are worth less if we are not seen as “pretty.” The shell we leave in death is not our beauty. Our beauty is our spirit!
And yet, I realize that her life screams the message in and of itself. BE. Be who you really are. Never pretend the image of what people want you to be. It kills you inside. It kills you outside.
Be the goddess you truly are. You don’t need hair dye or sequined gowns or high heels, though by all means if you want to, play with those fun looks. Have your nails polished and have a party. But!!!! Make sure the party is for the real you, not the one that others want you to be or think you should be.
In Marilyn Monroe’s Voice:
I was capable of so much MORE than I was allowed to do. Ha! Who wants a Marilyn Monroe with brains? Who wants a seductress who can teach you a thing or two? Anybody? In the ‘50’s it was unheard of. So would I come back with my same message? Would I send the message back to women and men of Earth who will listen? You bet your sweet ass, I would. But how do you send the message out into the world when people see you as eye-candy, a “not-to-be-taken-seriously-girl” as the Mayor of Whoville would put it?
I guess you would write a book about a goddess with REAL power. I guess you would enlist the help of other goddesses who are coming into their own, realizing their eons of power and opening up to it as never before. I guess you might also draw to you spirits who understand the curse of fame, often living their truth as candles in the wind.
You are not an object. You are sheer power. Not just “power” in a sheer dress, but true power. Release your inner child, release your spirit. Dance around the house and sing at the top of your lungs. Tear up a porn magazine and burn a page on which a woman’s spirit has been distilled down to nothing but a paper prostitute. We can do better than this. We are beings – powerful and sacred, sexual and maternal. We nurture, we tend, we create and we mend. To allow ourselves to primarily be seen as sex objects is to deny our power as sexual goddesses. Flesh on a page is what people think they want because that’s what we keep giving them. It is empty. We are full. Don’t be content to be an object. Porn never made anyone less lonely on either side of the industry. We are MORE.
I Don’t Mind Naked
As “Marilyn Monroe,” I loved the freedom of it. Be naked if you want to be – but be naked on YOUR terms. Don’t be content to be in the shadows while the airbrushed non-people get all of the glory. YOU are a goddess. A goddess is what is on the inside, not the outside. When you look at my image SEE yourself on the inside. See past the dumb blonde image. I was anything but dumb. I was heartbroken and lonely, looking for the world to be the mother I didn’t have. My mother was more dependent on me than I was on her. From a very young age I was more mothering to her than she was to me. Who wants that kind of pressure as a child? What did I do to deserve that? Do you think being pretty makes up for that kind of void in your heart? No it does not.
When I started out to conquer the world, I wanted to give my message. If you are beautiful the world will fall at your feet. I wanted to be loved. Despite some silly roles on-screen and my scandalous roles off-screen I was loved, I would like to think, for my spirit. What the camera saw was not me. You saw through that. Otherwise I would not be one remembered with fondness still. The world loves a pretty tragedy. But I was more than that. I think that even though I did not live my message, in another way I did. Even though I did not write that book of empowerment as Marilyn Monroe, I lived the story by showing you what to be, and what not to be, and especially showing that fame is nothing without love. When you understand something deep within, you must live it.
That’s all for now.