Evolution of the Soul

Success comes in many forms.

How often is it regarded as a series of painful experiences, with smatterings of positivity that may not even quite be joy, though?

Whilst this sounds bleak, the experiences I created throughout my life have undoubtedly fashioned transformations beyond anything remotely imaginable in my twenties.

Could I have lived a life of joy and transmuted from this state?

Not when grown inside the masquerade of a Doomsday Cult, parading my many selves within deep insecurity, unworthiness and non-existence. Life appeared difficult beyond these young years, and the need for perfection yielded dramatic, suicidal outcomes (at worst), such as my miscarriage. I was too much to bear.

But somehow able to summon help (from some unfathomable place) in the depths of despair and take positive steps … the leap of faith needed to untangle threads inventing my mind’s web.

From a fear-riddled, boundary-lacking, people-pleasing child with no idea of self to a calm, self-loving, compassionate being that remembers so much more of myself – the parts that have always been there, alongside the seemingly unsurmountable self-loathing, stubbornness and mischievous qualities – perhaps not always needing to be banished, but held in love and used in ways that support me. Such as being stubborn enough not to have my first husband back (I have been getting through them).

Unravelling layers of my onion overcoat, peeling one after the other, to re-discover, all in perfect timing, gifts that are my true soul calling. Mini transformations birthing a truer version of myself, with increased personal power so strong now. Meeting my soul needs more fully than ever with the pursuit of fun things long forgotten. Where did all the fun go – wrapped in the ever-consuming world of materialism and ego trappings with narcissist overlays? But I’m an empath – how can this be?
Success comes in many forms.

How often is it regarded as a series of painful experiences, with smatterings of positivity that may not even quite be joy, though?

Whilst this sounds bleak, the experiences I created throughout my life have undoubtedly fashioned transformations beyond anything remotely imaginable in my twenties.

Could I have lived a life of joy and transmuted from this state?

Not when grown inside the masquerade of a Doomsday Cult, parading my many selves within deep insecurity, unworthiness and non-existence. Life appeared difficult beyond these young years, and the need for perfection yielded dramatic, suicidal outcomes (at worst), such as my miscarriage. I was too much to bear.

But somehow able to summon help (from some unfathomable place) in the depths of despair and take positive steps … the leap of faith needed to untangle threads inventing my mind’s web.

From a fear-riddled, boundary-lacking, people-pleasing child with no idea of self to a calm, self-loving, compassionate being that remembers so much more of myself – the parts that have always been there, alongside the seemingly unsurmountable self-loathing, stubbornness and mischievous qualities – perhaps not always needing to be banished, but held in love and used in ways that support me. Such as being stubborn enough not to have my first husband back (I have been getting through them).

Unravelling layers of my onion overcoat, peeling one after the other, to re-discover, all in perfect timing, gifts that are my true soul calling. Mini transformations birthing a truer version of myself, with increased personal power so strong now. Meeting my soul needs more fully than ever with the pursuit of fun things long forgotten. Where did all the fun go – wrapped in the ever-consuming world of materialism and ego trappings with narcissist overlays? But I’m an empath – how can this be?

Wounds, what wounds? Am I not perfect just as I am? Perfectly imperfect each step of the way…why be perfect with nowhere further to explore. How will my soul be fully satisfied without excavating the patterns and emotions to return lost parts and feel more whole again?

Some of my deepest fears have been met through various methods of self-development and healing, including my shamanic work, allowing me to be freer than I have ever considered I could be: through self-forgiveness and increased love of myself, despite some of the despicable things I know I have done. I bet you want to know what they are, don’t you?

Letting go of part of our sense of self, whether it serves us well or not, is so hard to do. I mean, you don’t know what not having something will feel like when you are used to feeling it, do you? Such as the ongoing inner critic tamed to a soft purr.

My soul knows exactly what it needs and how to get there. It always has. Questions asked to help my growth. Contrast is a stringent companion.

Bringing balance from an early split-off world, abounding in personal power and no longer hiding in as many unknown shadows masked by my ego as safety: unplugged voices, the echoes of others’ paths, never my own, that brought me to my knees, continue to fall away – leading me inward on my journey to myself; a spine-tingling, head-spinning, future-making, soul evolution.

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