You may have noticed this post is a day late. I take full responsibility for that. Sometimes, in the hustle of life, our best intentions get knocked slightly off course.
For me, the past few weeks have been a grueling and difficult time, a roller-coaster between spectacular lows and mind-blowing highs. To be honest, I had no idea what I was going to write for this week’s post.
Embarking on a spiritual quest is akin to jumping off a cliff wearing a blindfold. You know you are taking a chance, you probably don’t know what you’re in for, and there is a likely chance that you will crash and burn rather than learn to fly.
Evolution is never without its risks.
But, as I’ve been saying for the past few weeks with almost religious fervor, “Evolve or die.”
Several weeks ago, I started a class on how to enter the Akashic realm, how to read my soul book, and other things. It is amazing, humbling, and unnerving to realize how much more there is to learn spiritually. It’s like singing all your life, and then discovering at age 51 there is something called music theory. Everything you’ve been doing haphazardly for years suddenly has structure, context, and direction.
But the down-side of opening up this new realm is that it also opens up old doors you thought were closed. I can’t tell you how many seemingly dead emotions have been roiled to the surface, how many old fears reignited, and how many personal disappointments I’ve revisited in the past few weeks. Learning to see ourselves in the spiritual realm requires both courage and humility; it ain’t for the week of heart.
So many people come to Kat and I looking for easy answers. It’s a symptom of our species, this need for concise, verifiable, easily-implemented solutions. As a group, humans rarely like ambiguity, and they hate messiness.
If I’m learning anything in the Akashic realm, it’s that there is no such thing as an easy answer. The whole purpose of our being here is to discover and learn from the complexities of creation. The whole purpose of life is living, not just existing.
Yesterday, I was having an anxiety attack. It was horrible, and I went to the Quiet Room to meditate. I went to my spirit guide and asked her, Why is this so hard? Why is this so painful? Why can’t life be sweet?
She opened herself to me, to the life our souls live when we are not embodied. This is sweet, she told me. Our life here is sweet. If you had wanted sweet, you would have never taken on the challenge of embodied life. There are other flavors, more challenging, more interesting, and you have chosen this life to experience those.
And she was right, of course. We are embodied souls, so we carry the sweetness of our spirit lives with us wherever we go. We always have access to it, if we try, and we can always share it with others.
But the purpose of life here is to challenge ourselves, to taste those other flavors. It’s hard to remember this when the bills are due, when the news makes us weep, when the stress is high and energy is low. But deep down, we know it to be true.
I think the best way to describe embodied life is something I used to use to describe a high-stress former job: It’s like surfing in a hurricane. Scary, dangerous, and possibly stupid. But if you survive to tell the tale, it’s gonna be one hell of a thrill ride.
Life is the ultimate thrill ride. There are no safety nets. There are no guarantees. None of us are going to get out of it alive.
But it’s one hell of a ride.
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