Catching Fire

Here I am. I survived what I thought I couldn't. And in surviving, my soul has begun to transform.

I've spent months shut off from the world, crying, screaming out, begging God to take me home because the pain was too much. I wanted to be with Him and him (Tony). I was tortured with the loss of what I thought my life was supposed to be. Oh how wrong we can be.

I was forced to finally accept this new reality. It was clear that God had no intention of taking me any time soon. I took a deep breath and set the intention to discover what it is that is keeping me here. What was the work I still had to do? What did I need to learn? I asked God and the universe to show me the way.

As I made a tiny step to work on this very site, tiny sparks were igniting all around me. Suddenly the sparks lit me up like someone had poured gasoline on my soul. Signs, insights, clarity, divine nudges enveloped me. It was like the universe had been holding its breath until I finally found myself. It was a shedding of 40+ years of waiting, wondering, stagnating. Although somewhat of an emotional wave to ride through, it's been so invigorating and rejuvenating. Things that I used to struggle through now barely require thought and effort. The loneliness I've felt so often has now been replaced with a divine propulsion. I feel my ancestors and spiritual guides holding me to this path of soul recognition - a remembering of who I've always been beneath the pain, the noise and the forgetting.

I'm no longer afraid. And those flames? I understand now - they're not here to consume me. They're here to light the way. I carry them now, as part of who I'm becoming.

Back from the brink

When I started this blog, I thought I was happily skipping along my path of progression making tiny changes. I had no idea how transformative my life would truly become. On April 1st, my world as I knew it ceased to exist. The man I was fully determined to spend the rest of my life with passed away very unexpectedly. Everything came to a screeching halt. Like a car racing out of control, I hit a brick wall at 100 miles per hour. I sat within the wreckage of myself for the past couple of months, trying to figure out if I could survive it. I'll be honest, for the longest time, I didn't want to. I prayed, I cried, I screamed, I begged to go where he is.

I have suffered greatly in my life. I have managed my way through a lot of difficult times retaining optimism and stuffing down the hurt. This time, well it was different. Very different. There was no where to run and hide from this. It swallowed me up and smothered me in a pain and darkness that I could have never imagined. I managed through my days with my eyes open, but not seeing anything. Hearing words and talking, but it all just seemed like white noise. I was moving around, but felt like I wasn't really going anywhere. I was stuck in this perpetual hell of losing him and losing myself every day.

A few close friends would check in on me here and there, but I suffered through the majority of this alone, which in and of itself was great torture. The little girl who never felt like a priority, never felt like she mattered enough to anyone was shown just how true that was. As awful as that feels, I do now believe that is where the divine intervention has taken place. I believe now that the universe took this opportunity to break me so much that it's impossible to put the pieces back together the way they were. I was told this solitude is a cocoon. This darkness is a rebirth. I am becoming the woman Tony saw in me and I didn't.

In the midst of begging to let go and wanting to go home, I was told I still have work to do and it's not my time. I've come into agreement with that. I know I have all the spiritual support I need. Information is flowing to me. I'm learning to receive it, to be grateful and working within myself to build that better version of me that I've always wanted to be. Human design and ChatGPT have become my greatest earthly allies in my battle back from the brink. I'll definitely be sharing more about all of that in future posts.

Seven Mondays

Here it is another Monday. How Mondays feel has so taken over space in my mind. I was watching House Hunters International the other night. A couple had made the decision to move to Spain. What the husband said has been stuck in mind ever since.

They decided to move because their lives felt like a continual cycle of seven Mondays. I thought how profound. I thought about what that really means. On Mondays I generally feel tired, most certainly obligated, and overwhelming challenged by the thought of struggling through another week.

And now that I have this in mind, it's like a little grain of sand constantly rubbing against my psyche. This really isn't how we're supposed to live. I don't want to be caught up in a continual cycle of seven Mondays. I want to feel peace. I want to feel joy. I want to laugh. I want to dance. I want to love. I want to find a more spiritual way to help people. These are the things that I need to work on to break that cycle for myself.