I’ve been uncovering a massive shadow side along the journey of “accessing my highest potential.”
With this almost obsessive orientation towards “expansion,” I’ve been subtly telling myself..
...I am never enough exactly as I am...
I want you to explore yourself, inside and out.
I want you to get intimate with your own shadow, just as much as your own light.
I want you to know yourself so wholly that no aspect of you is unseen.
Underneath my exuberant belief that we are spiritual beings having a human experience, I doubted whether what I sought was attainable at all. I had moments where I wondered if I was doing something wrong.. I felt like perhaps I had not been deemed worthy of the eternal embrace.
I felt I had to do more to prove myself.
If you listen closely enough, I'm betting you'll find that what you thought was you falling off your path is actually life redirecting you, providing you valuable lessons you wouldn't have had otherwise.
I'm guessing that when you keep going, you'll look back and realize that the Universe was quietly preparing you to find your purpose & fulfill your mission
What living with Lyme has taught me more than anything else is how to have deep gratitude for this human experience. It has taught me to enjoy the little moments, both the ones filled with light and the ones filled with pain, because no matter how shitty the moment may feel, it's just an experience and at some point, eventually, there will be something else to experience. It has taught me that the only constant in life is change, and that instead of pushing against what is happening, I can surrender and choose to learn from it instead.
When we begin to embrace all the parts of our inner selves that seem conflicting-- the feminine/masculine, ambitious/lazy, giving/selfish, kind/angry, empowered/weak, brave/fearful, confident/doubtful parts of ourselves-- we begin to realize that the shadow aspects of our personality are just as valid and useful as the light ones. Each part of us has its place.
As women in this world, we are often shamed for allowing this aspect of ourselves to be seen outside of the bedroom. We're expected to behave according to some twisted patriarchal idea of what it means to 'act like a lady', and then instantly turn on our inner sex kitten when the time comes.
We're taught that we need to keep a rein on our urges, to cover up our bodies, and to sit pretty until we're told what to do.
FUCK. THAT.
What you don’t see is that while on one hand I’m grateful to everything I’ve learned through having an invisible chronic illness, it sucks. It really fucking sucks. And some days, all I can do is cry my eyes out to ease the weight that I carry around in my heart, trusting that tomorrow will be lighter and I can get back to living..
