She’s found the place she remembers, the place she knows she’ll never leave again.
Not for any job, not for any man.
Not for any worldly fear that really wasn’t hers to begin with.
Because once the wind finds a soul, there’s no stopping the current that swings it merrily along.
There is no denying it.
There is absolutely no rationalizing it because there really is nothing rational about the greatest love that ever there was.
The love of a soft girl.
I won’t abandon her to the logical minds of others again. She’s far too lovely to be over thought, and over criticized by a world too afraid to believe in the magic at the very fingertips of us. The magic of more.
I believe in the magic of more.
And my heart, my soul, my soft girl—I promise I’ll never leave you again.
I promise that to you now, because now I know you.
I finally know you.
And that means that all along…
you and I were the ones that were truly meant to be.
I was sitting on a public toilet, talking to an invisible person in my mind.
It didn’t occur to me to think it strange. It was about eight months into this new woo woo phase of my life—the one where, among other things, I seemed to be picking up some pretty wonderful advice from an invisible world that I still wasn’t entirely sure I believed in. Could it be that my guides and angels were just a figment of the wonderland that is my imagination? Well, yes. That was entirely possible, I thought.
And yet, by that point in my awakening journey, the number of psychic experiences popping up in my life had become so great that I was starting to wonder how I could still be in disbelief about it all. I’d even started to think back through the years of my life, looking at some of the daydreams of my past (visions that I can still see in my mind, that had oddly come to pass years later.) At the time, I’d passed them off as coincidence. Now…I was slowly changing my mind.
Back to the toilet then, shall we (sorry about that, ha ha ha :P) I had been leaning into the woo woo stuff at that point, really trying to learn about it and figure out how I wanted to use it in my day to day life. Here was a good opportunity to connect. My husband and I were about to go to Teppanyaki where shy me would be seated at a table with (omg) strangers, and not only that, but I’d been experiencing a bit of depression at the time. I really was a bit nervous as to how the night might go.
So I asked for help. ‘Guides,’ I thought, can you please show me/tell me something that will happen tonight that might help me?’ You have to understand that, at this point, I was still highly skeptical about the validity of my relationship with my guides, or even if the woo woo existed at all. And so, when my imagination flashed me a vision of a lady leaning into me, deep in conversation about something that seemed to be quite profound…I let it in, and then I let it go.
It was probably nothing.
With the vision, though, came a strong knowing that this lady had something very important to say to me and that I should absolutely listen and go with the flow of where the conversation was taking my thoughts and feelings. I admit I was curious.
The evening wore on and I forgot all about the vision and my silent conversation with the invisible people. The food was delicious and the wine was also wonderful…it really did seem like it was going to be a fairly nice night, and completely woo woo free. Until the cook, who was sizzling the food right there on the hot plate in front of us got out his playing cards and announced it was time to play a guessing game.
Well. What a perfect opportunity to test out my guides, hey? Surely they’d be able to give me the correct answers if the woo woo stuff really was real? And so, I did what I do. I asked them for an answer. As the cook shuffled the cards, he asked the lady beside me to think about what number she thought he was about to reveal. She ummed and ahh-ed and laughed and smiled. Number 3 flashed into my mind.
I can’t remember the number the lady chose. All I remember was the shock that surged through my body when the cook turned the card around. It was number 3. What a coincidence. Next guess belonged to the ladies’ husband, and again I asked my invisible people for the answer. 6, they flashed at me.
And 6 it was.
This happened one more time, and once again my ‘guess’ was correct. By now, I was almost bursting with what on earth is happening to me! to the point where I turned to the lady beside me and confessed. ‘Oh, my goodness. You’re not going to believe this.’
It was what happened next that I will never—not for my entire life long—forget. Thelady leaned into me, just like in the vision. And with a very serious face she said: ‘As soon as you walked in the door, I knew there was something about you. You had a glow that no one else had. I’m a little bit psychic too, so, yes. That’s how I was able to see.’
I nearly fell-off-my-chair. The vision had come true, which essentially told me that my guides had listened to my question and given me the answer, just as I had asked them to. Not only that, but the universe just so happened to sit me at a table with a lady who could help move me forward on my journey. I mean, guys. How could I not believe after all of this?
What followed was a profound conversation between me and my new woo woo friend about the nature of the universe, about my worries of how to fit the woo woo into a life I’d already made sense of. This new ability (or at least the sudden awareness of an old one) changed everything for me, and I really wasn’t at all sure about how to integrate it all. She told me she didn’t use her abilities as a job: they just were, and she just accepted them as a part of her life. I’m starting to think maybe that was the very message I was meant to take away from the conversation.
Acceptance seems to be what I’ve struggled with the most on this awakening journey. Learning to trust that what is happening in my life is happening for a very specific reason, whether I know what that reason is, or not.
I’ve not communicated directly with my guides much at all since then because, honestly, I’ve been SO afraid. This new truth of mine just gives the world another reason to make me feel as though I don’t quite fit in: and that is something I’ve struggled with my whole life. But with the upheaval of this whole ‘awakening’ has come a profound anchor into an inner strength I’ve never known. That’s why I’m slowly starting to accept everything that is, and speak openly and honestly about it all, no matter how it frightens me. It’s okay if people judge. I accept myself, and that is all that really matters.
Not only that—I’m finally starting to love myself.
The soft girl drifted away from the ballet and felt the air fall around her like silk. It was a wonderful twenty-four hours, one of the rare occasions that my husband and I leave our children in the capable hands of adults other than us, and go on an adventure. How lovely it was to feel ourselves again.
I could tell you about the day, but the day itself was unremarkable. What was remarkable was the silk air, though, and so I’ll tell you about that part because it was all the lovely things.
The soft girl, for those of you who are wondering, is me— the deeper version of me that holds my intuition, my connection to nature, and most importantly…my ability to feel life and love at a level I’ve never known before. The soft girl is the part of me I choose.
Last night we went to see the dark version of the ballet Swan Lake, where the White Swan meets her Black Swan rival, and all sorts of horrible shenanigans ensue. I smiled as it occurred to me: the White Swan feels so much like the soft girl. I cried a little, too, as I watched—for all the grace, all the joy, all love she brought to the stage.
But as I watched the darkness ooze from the black swan as she danced, her shoulders undulating with sexuality and sass…I realised that she lives within me, too. I wondered about the dark swan that lives inside of all of us, the one who does not have permissionto exist in polite and proper society. I thought of that repression of ‘darkness’ within, and what it means to be human and functioning within certain limits, and somehow the ballet became a little deeper and more wonderful than it already was.
For a moment, last night, I was a little girl again, at the ballet for the very first time and feeling every bit the elegant lady I’d always dreamed I might be one day. I was a woman with silk air floating about her. And I really do think I could use a bit more of that sort of wonderful in my life.
I had an epiphany yesterday, at a time where my skin was particularly susceptible to the energy of human beings that were not me. We were out as a family, enjoying the humming vibe of a dumpling festival (nom, nom, nom) and it struck me that I was running on supercharge.
As I looked around me, each person seemed so clear, alive and vulnerable. It was as if I were seeing them through a more sensitive, vibrant lense of the reality that most people know. Certainly a more sensitive lense than I have known for many years. It was, in the words of my precious little five-year-old: ‘Blow minding.’
As I stood in line at the dumpling truck—joyously waving at my husband and two little muffins, whose faces shone back at me like the brightest lights in the world— I realised that this was the way I used to live in the world, before I started living on adult autopilot. And I wondered…what on earth happened? Where did my authentic self go during all of those autopilot years, and how did my heart and soul dim quite as drastically as they did?
The epiphany that came to me as I stood in line, deciding between the Steak and cracked pepper dim-sims or the plain old beef was…I had to forget my true nature so that I could tell the difference between a life half lived, and a life lived as it authentically should be lived.
For instance…over the past ten years, I’ve had no idea that I was only half living (as in, I had no idea I was suppressing my authentic emotional self, in any way.) I was happy. I was writing and genuinely enjoying family life. I thought I was being me. Until last year, when my heart suddenly burst open again, and oh my goodness, I remember you! happened.
Yesterday’s epiphany had me wondering: if I forgot my true nature for so many years…how many others have forgotten theirs, too? How many others have ever even wondered: is this me? And is this as much of my life that I want to live?
Anyway, that’s gotten quite deep, so I’ll leave it there for today. But feel free to share in the comments if you’ve experienced a similar re-awakening in your life, because I really do think the more of us who speak up about these things…the easier it will get for the sleepy heads of tomorrow to wake up again, too. Well, I sure hope so, anyway. xx
I’ve just been to my little boy’s kinder disco, dressed as a cat. A black one, with some white bits included (because black and white cats are just a little bit less evil than pure black cats, wouldn’t you say?)
We advertised it as a dress-up disco, which of course would mean that upon arrival there’d be a sea of adorable little muffins dressed as Disney Princesses, Queen Elsa’s, Spidermen and all the rest of the Marvel universe— and indeed this was the case. ALL the adorable little people.
ALL the adorable escapism.
And then there were the adults. All very there for their children, and all very kind and lovely and ready to chat. But all very dressed as… Mum and Dad. I was the only one dressed as a cat (meow, by the way, thanks for asking.) And apart from the entire fundraising team, who made the effort to dress up AND run the whole thing like absolute champions…none of the other adults were brave enough to come in costume. ALL the sad faces.
I really do feel so sad about that. Not because we were the only ones dressed up and we looked silly or anything, nothing at all like that. The actual reason for my disappointment is that we’ve broken each other, us adult humans. We’ve judged too much. We’ve labelled too much. And by the time we reach adulthood, the general rule is that we are sensible and that we obey the rules of what it means to be a mature adult.
I won’t be silent on this issue any longer, guys. I just can’t—because it makes me way too cranky to think of how much we limit ourselves because of how others might disapprove. I’m going to make a vast call and say that beneath the sensible of most adults lies an authentic human being who is screaming to have just a little more fun than this.
If you are like me, I’m sure you’ve felt this kind of pain before, and If you are like me…then let this be our war cry. Let’s choose not to care about judgment. Let’s show the ones who are a little afraid, that it’s okay to be exactly who they are.
Please don’t misunderstand me on this. I am absolutely sure that some adults really just do-not-care to dress up, and do not actually want to let the inner child off the leash. I have no judgment at all toward these people— this is them, expressing their authentic selves, and no one could ever ask more of them than that.
It’s the rest of us I’m talking about. Those of us who receive the invite to the dress up party and instantly see ourselves dressed as a Minion.
Let’s do this, guys. Let’s take our power back and let’s be the Minion!