Kerri Scott’s spiritual CKUA journey

Do you have a story about you and CKUA that you’d like to share with us? Please let us know by writing us. We’d love to feature it! What do such stories look like? Well, here’s a unique one by listener, Kerri Scott. We’ll let Kerri explain…

I am so delighted to be able to share my CKUA story with you and the community!

I have been a long time listener from the days when I was just learning to drive in Calgary to now, living on Vancouver Island and tuning in online!

[Here’s] an except from my debut book Celebrate Your Grief because CKUA played a fundamental role in my own spiritual journey. I hope these words resonate, as the music has with me, for all these years.

Thank you for the joy and the tears you have brought me and for invitation to share my story.

Love to you all.

I often felt this immense higher self or source connection when I listened to music, particularly a local radio station in Alberta called CKUA. This radio community supported me early on in my spiritual discovery. I didn’t know it at the time but the music, the conversations, and the exchanges helped raise my vibration and get me into alignment with my higher self. By waking up to the music, I was doing what Abraham Hicks recommended doing every morning: ‘enjoy the sensation of being in your vortex and just try and stay there as long as you can.’

The music in the mornings would gently rise me from my joyous slumber, then quickly get my frequency up and continue to build it into my day. There were times when I was awoken in such an incredible way, bursting into the morning with an intense joy for the music playfully waking me that I carried that good mood long into the rest of the day and it was reflected in the exchanges and experiences I had. I recall racing out of my house to get into the car in order to get back to the music and the connection as quickly as possible.

The radio station had traveled with me, been by my side through relationship ups and downs, heartbreak and openheartedness. I had shed tears countless times, glorious sadness, moved by the profound connection to a greater community of artists and generosity.

Every time I would tune in on my own, the song that played or the story that was being told, seemed to speak directly to me. One of my favourite moments, with one of my favorite songs, was while studying at student centre in the lounge aptly nicknamed ‘The Black Lung’. Listening to an afternoon radio show, the announcer, likely Andy Donnelly, played this movingly beautiful song, sung by a brother and sister. I call the song ‘Icarus,’ but it might be called “The Rose.”

I believe it became one of the most requested songs during their bi-annual fund[ing] drives, but I only heard it a few more times again after that. Each time, as magnificent as the first, bringing shivers and tingles to my limbs and tears wetting my cheeks.

There were a few times I had tried to share this favourite radio station with others, but the connection never resonated. I could never understood why when I tried to share this musical experience that was so exemplary for me with anyone else, I could barely catch their interest. When we tuned in together, the music was less than I had described or there was no music at all.

Yet I knew that out there in the zeitgeist of the province, there were other people having similar experiences and feelings that I was having. Being taken on a journey into my soul through a series of songs that lead me to a place of alignment. The pleasure of the moment, building, the sun seemingly brighter and the air fresher, with the smile on my face expanding as my body moved to the rhythm.

It was such a comforting knowing to have, of others who felt the same way at those moments of space and time, connecting through the radio waves. I knew it from the passion others felt towards the station and the support they offered, it came through in the voices of the on air personalities. It seemed that only I could be supported energetically by this community of fellow listeners for those were my higher self’s private internal moments being reflected in sound.