Full circle

Phoenix (1720 – 1750) Cornelis

I’ve lived a very different life the last going on 12 years. It’s a life that has been proven to be far removed from the average human. It has caused me to be pretty difficult to relate to. I don’t try to be. I don’t talk over people’s heads and walk around with a lot of clout surrounding me. I’ve just endured a great deal and seen a lot of things. I’ve done something I know is rare— I allowed life to change me, rather than becoming bitter about what has happened.

As a mother of a special needs child and also being her caretaker, I have endured things that nightmares are made of for a parent. It has been nothing short of heartbreaking doing everything that I can and it still not being enough to make life more pleasant for her. I’ve spent years researching into reasons for her discomfort far beyond what’s conventional and have come out with a wide understanding of this world and what effects humans at an energetic level, beyond what is discussed mainstream. I have helped her little nervous system unwind after suffering much medical trauma due to careless actions of medical staff over the years, viewing her more as a science experiment, rather than a thinking, feeling human.

It’s been a long journey, and I’ve allowed all that pain, sorrow and experience to etch its way deeply into every part of my being— freeing me from the trappings of what humanity is stuck in. I look around at this world and I see a lot of people uselessly toiling away for fruitless causes and posing for the camera so they can have their moment portrayed as a loving kind citizen. A lot of people just like to play pretend because it makes them look good but what good is it? Does it help anyone? We’re swimming in a world of hurt out there, including the person that’s posing for their picture while handing a homeless man a sandwich— otherwise they wouldn’t need the public petting and likes for doing something noble. Help is silent. Help is patient. Help is steady and solid. Help brings hope.

I’ve lived a very, very loud life, where the people around me are screaming and yelling like their hair is on fire but really it’s the torment that lives within them that is on fire. I have been collateral damage. I have been the black sheep. I have been the scapegoat. I have been the dumping grounds. I’ve been the glue, the cheerleader, the inspirer of hope! I have been the bad guy, the fall guy— the one who is blamed. I have been the cover, the shelter, the fix it. I have come to the aid of many and when I’ve needed help only one responds and the rest is an echo.

I’ve sat on death’s doorstep, feeling my spirit separating from my physical vessel. I can see what is real here and what really matters and what doesn’t… The dangerous part is I see humanity for what it is and who individuals are. I see through to their truth, even the truths they dare not utter aloud. What is even more dangerous is how quiet my mind is, how unbothered I am, how little I “need” from other humans. I only desire what is genetically typical now— community and nothing more. I do not need someone to fill me up or fix me, make me feel whole or depend on anyone else for my happiness or feeling of security. But what’s even stranger is; this is normal.

It takes losing everything and everyone, including myself to come back to zero point. The life I lead now is nothing like the life I once lived that was filled with passing time and choreographed smiles. This is living. This is life, being whole unto myself with no need of anything from anyone else. I always have everything that I need. Always. There is peace here. There is awareness here, seeing the world and people as they are, not through the lens of need and expectation. I wouldn’t have made it here had I not lived the life I had caretaking for my daughter or her dad while he was terminally ill. I would not have fought for myself had I not been kicked down and stomped on by the people who were supposed to be there for me the most. I would not have rebuilt my character had my name not been smeared by two of the women that had been closest to me. I would not have been able to love myself if I didn’t know what love wasn’t. And I wouldn’t have been able to endure what I have had I not endured the irrational and harsh conditions of my caretaker.

Life is a mirror. The things you hold within you, the hidden things show up at some point in your life as an experience. I see this in my own life. I have been given the opportunities needed in order to not choose them again and to align with what I always deserved before I was taught wrong and subjected to cruelty. Your origin has a way of making its way back around to you when you are ready. I’ve seen this in my own life, otherwise I wouldn’t be writing about it.

The doorway to the bright, loving and bubbling little girl has come around full circle to me and I have the opportunity to embrace her, embrace me— who I truly am. Because I went on a long and painful ride in order to be reunited with her again and I’ve promised her that I won’t let her down. I will go on to live the life I was meant to live, I will go on to move through this world with the awareness and presence that I have gained in peace knowing that no one and no-thing can affect me unless I allow it to. No unworthy soul will get near me. I have worked much too hard to let this glory go to waste. And so it is…

Be blessed xx