When I look up I see my light. When I look down I see my shadow. The shadow is where I’ve blocked my light for a very specific purpose.
I’ve stored secrets in my dark side.
So that is where I go to uncover the truth–into the darkness.
And it is there that I have collected the lost souls. Aspects of my own psyche that I buried: Hurt. Heartbreak. Despair. Hopelessness. These demons have names I’ve given them. Their own identities.
And I’ve given them a place to stay.
I’ve given them protection.
I’ve given them cloaks of invisibility so no one else can see them.
And sometimes no one else can see me at all…
Because I used to identify as them.
Until one day I surrendered. Not into the light. Into the darkness. Into the abyss. My own hell. And before I could crawl, climb, and break myself out, I thought I’d have some demons to slay. I thought I’d have to fight my way out. I thought I’d struggle. And so that was what I was attracting in life.
So I changed.
I loved my dark side. And I went deeper within. Not to light it up. To sit with every demon in silence. Just to listen… To protect… To give them safety to have their own voice.
The first door I opened was hurt. Hurt said to me, “I AM your desires, for without me you would want nothing. I bring pain for you to know you’re alive. You need me.”
So I thanked hurt. Every lesson hurt brought up was for me to be aware of my own attachments after all. Even when I let go, hurt made sure to bring more because I wanted to be alive. I wanted to experience life not only from my soul’s perspective, but through the eyes of my living shell. Hurt was an invited guest.
I opened the next door and sat in an empty room. And sat. Alone. In nothingness. I closed my eyes. After a long while, I felt a cold, heavy, dense aura. It was an energy. It touched my skin and instantly gave me chills. It felt like the scratching of fingernails on a chalkboard moving up my spine, right into my heart, gripping it tightly. I felt her claws sink into my head as she got uncomfortably closer, squeezing me like a vice.
I heard a voice whisper, “You are mine and I won’t let you go. All of your love belongs to me and I won’t let you ever love another. Because you give love so freely, I am protecting you. I am holding onto you for your own good.”
And so I thanked heartbreak. I needed someone to love and heartbreak was there for me. All the time. Consistently. Never failing to do her job. Heartbreak was an invited guest. So I loved her even more.
I opened the next door. It led to a staircase, and the only way was down. It was cold. Dark. And it was sucking the air down the stairwell. The steps were slippery, as if to make me slip and fall. Or to prevent me from going back up. I continued down the long, twisted stairwell, all the way to the bottom, and there sat despair. He had made himself a throne for his lair.
A thick air settled upon us, weighing me down. He said to me, “This is our home. You cannot leave. Sadness and depression are your only friends. Everyone else will make fun of you. Everyone else will bully you. Everyone else will exclude you. We are here to hold you. To shelter you from what others would do.” So I let them. And I thanked them. Despair was my escape from life. Sadness and depression were where I went to escape. They were invited guests.
I went to the next door, but it was on the floor. I opened the door, and it lead to nothingness. Void. Just an empty space. Eternal. Infinite. I had no other way out except down the hatch. Yet I hesitated to go in. And something pushed me down into nothingness.
I fell.
I was in too deep and didn’t know how to get out.
Or if I’d ever make it back…
I tried to stop myself but I was still falling. I tried to grab onto something but there was nothing there. I felt hopeless. Maybe the lesson of being hopeless was to find hope from nothingness. But there was nothing. No lesson. Only indefinable depth.
Until I hit bottom. The fall was too much for me. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t get up. I couldn’t feel. My body grew numb as each organ shut down, one by one. My eyes closed. My heart stopped as my reality folded in on itself. I let go of mind. I let go of identity. And I let go of my last breath…
With that, she came to steal my soul. As she breathed in my last breath she said, “It is hopeless to try to leave here. It is hopeless to try to love when you know you are a soul. You are nothing at all. Just let it all go. I will protect you from the living. And none of those things you were afraid of will ever have happened.”
I thanked hopelessness, but I couldn’t go with her. This was my journey I said. And her part was needed at the time. She was an invited guest. I was truly grateful to be liberated.
But I still had a purpose.
I saw the world of the living, but not through a linear timeline. Every option created a new world. Every choice led to new opportunities and completely new parallel universes of possibilities.
I needed her for me to see that. And I needed death to rise.
I wasn’t done here yet. There were other doors I hadn’t opened yet. Doors that can only be opened from the living, for what was behind them was weighing down the soul.
Death was there to guide me.
Down into the well…
And when I went through the well I came back with anger, sadness, fear, guilt, and shame. For these were my agreement with death, emotional states which must be overcome in the living. This was our collective soul agreement and by me doing so, others would follow. I was taking on the responsibility of healing my world’s karma. And this wasn’t something I could do alone, so my barriers had to be undone.
I felt angry for everything done to me. I wanted to lash out and destroy those who betrayed me. I forgave them instead. Anger served to shed light unto my core values that were violated somehow.
I felt sadness next, knowing that everyone who ever hurt me was doing so in a place from their own inner pain. And they didn’t yet have the courage to look within. I didn’t know if I did either. But sadness turned into longing for a better, more compassionate existence.
Fear was protecting me all along. But I did it anyway, with or without courage. Even if it meant being abandoned. Left behind. Rejected. Or never truly being loved. I did it anyway. I lived.
And then guilt arose. “Why do you do things for yourself when you should be helping others? Look at how you have been towards others in your own selfish quest for love,” guilt said. I had nothing to respond with. He was right. My path was to heal, yet I had to heal myself first. So I asked guilt, “would it be ok to work on myself first so that I may be fully available to others?” Guilt have me the gift of compassion. And the responsibility to carry the weight of the world until my contract was fulfilled…
And then another door appeared.
I opened the door to find a crying child all the way back in a dark corner. This child was me. Afraid. Cold. Lonely. Not accepted by others. And shamed for being who I AM.
Shamed for thinking differently than others. Shamed for speaking my truths. Shamed for being out of line. Shamed for being independent. Shamed for my desires. Shamed for my lineage.
This is why I was cast away.
For being different.
So I come back here every day and just sit. If only to see if I’ll turn around. Just to get a look at myself. At who I AM.
I sit to give myself the voice that no one let me speak.
I sit to give myself the protection that no one else could give.
I sit to give myself the desires I truly wish to embody.
I sit to give myself the love that only I can provide.
The only way back to the living is through this boy. Because a life lived this way has only caused pain. So I must get through it.
I will love myself through it.
But first, I will sit with myself until I am ready…
And how will I know when I’m ready? What’s different? Does this story have a happy ending, or will I remain in the corner feeling broken and unloved? Will I embody change from my healing journey?
An angel stepped into my soul. I felt warmed by this presence. He was an archetype I was to embody. Complete with golden armor, an impenetrable shield, and a sword of fire. Where my fears and lower vibrations had given me protection in the past, I was wholly and completely protected in their absence. Now Michael was an invited guest.
Another one came, filling every bit of my presence with knowledge. And one with compassion and unconditional love. And yet another with infinite wisdom. I thanked Gabriel, Uriel, and Metatron for their gifts. There were now invited guests. And I couldn’t have loved again without them.
But then it was time to let them go…
I was taken back again, back in time. For I had a universe to build with new gifts and learnings. I come from a race of programmers. I chose to live here. And die here.
And live again.
And love again.
And so I find myself at the beginning. I design my own life each and every brand new moment.
I contextualize new realities and actualize exactly what’s perfect for my soul’s purpose.
And that is ascension.
By creating a ground circuit, my family of light beings are able to uplift our collective vibration. To raise the roof!
But I had to go through my darkness to see this. I had to die to live again and make this reality possible. And I had to go through everything I went through, so I give love. I give compassion, I give forgiveness and gratitude.
And I give myself completion only at the perfect time I am ready. Until then, I will sit with myself. Every day. I will embody archetypes to heal that which comes up at the exact time when my programming code has deemed it necessary and ready. And I will continue being here in service.
It was never about embodying the light through. It was about embracing my darkness.
Thank you. It is done. It is done. It is done.
=D