Sometimes I feel like I’m standing in front of a crowded room, screaming, and nobody looks up. They can’t hear me. They aren’t trying to ignore me. They literally can not receive a message that is beyond their comprehension. And who am I, someone below them on the social ladder of success in society (the bottom rung, in fact) to bare such wisdom to them?
There have been many who came before me, baring such explosive new ideas about the world in which some of us live. Many of these spiritual teachers were never labeled as such, nor will anyone ever know their names.
I fear living a mediocre life, only because that isn’t my soul’s natural wave length. I wish I could explain to you how big my soul really is. WHO she really is. It’s like being Royalty who has mistakenly been switched with a poverty born life and can’t escape. I have never forgotten my pre-existing lives, or who I am on the other side.
Someone once compared me to Cleopatra, which seems ridiculous to the human ego. Especially from the outside in, baring witness to a life like mine. I however, know the story a lot differently. I know a soul like mine would never have chosen an easy mission. I know I chose this life before my birth, and specifically designed it for the evolution of my soul, so that when the Awakening occurred (also pre-destined) I would inherently know how important this tiny, fragile, dimmed down, human life of mine would be.
I guess I used to think that that meant fame, or recognition would ultimately follow, and my writing, my stories would attract the audience it too was designed for.
I see life a lot differently than I ever did before. I know now that no matter how small my existence looks to others, no matter how much dirt is kicked in my face, I’m a warrior designed by God himself. My job isn’t to be in a spotlight (at least not right now), it is to hold the hands of every lost soul who enters my line of view, and gently awaken them, until they too recognize the true greatness of who they are.
I am a reminder that souls are bigger than a shallow human shell. That just because somebody looks, talks, and acts differently than you are used to, doesn’t mean a bad thing. In fact, often, it means the opposite. It means a highly evolved being you’ve been told is “challenged”, “crippled”, etc. is actually an Angel doing God’s work, never asking for anything in return, other than to be of service where they are needed most.
There are amazing people hidden in human shells, easily discarded by society, and what is important in the grand scheme of things. They are lost in ideas about who they are, how much value their lives have compared to others, and general bullshit about their mental abilities, and this is a fucking tragedy.
Everybody deserves a chance to be seen as smart, beautiful, and worthwhile. We all have a song to sing, and yet in the cages built for us we are asked to stay for the remainder of our lives. Cages that look like labels, financial status, and popularity contests.
Every child in Africa (for example) secretly dreams dreams he dares not discuss, for they are so grandiose people would call him insane to even think he was deserving of such a good life.
My position in life isn’t to make keeping the status quo the same, easy for anyone. That will never be my calling. I was built for this war, and this war I will battle alone if I have to, until the bitter end. Shed blood, cry tears, lose everything! I will never shut up. I will not be silent in the face of the onslaught of hatred aimed at me, or the ones I love.
Maybe the world has it completely fucked up.
Maybe the small victory of knowing how much I matter, how much you matter, is enough. Maybe everything else is bullshit.
I ask one question of everybody who reads (you do read, I see this in my blog stats), why did you take on this particular life? And what good can come from it, if you climbed out of the box with your name written on it, in BOLD black ink? Who could you be, and what are you capable of doing if you stopped following everybody else into the bleak abyss of normalcy? Until you die a normal death, and are buried a normal man, in a normal suit, wearing a tied somebody else picked out for you?
If you weren’t afraid to say “fuck it, let’s see where this goes”, where might the previously normal path you were on, lead you?
I for one, think it’s the only real chance we have at change. I see life two ways, normal and lacking power to change ANYTHING. And abnormal, building new freeways (spiritually) for others to zip along on one day.
Which will it be?
For someone like me, there isn’t a choice anymore. I couldn’t survive another thirty years as a pawn in a game I never asked to play, forever bowing at the feet of the King.
That is no life.
Thanks for reading. I believe in your greatness, because I know my own soul as being worthy of taking the place of the Queen. Which basically begs the question, who are you really?