Living Into the Unlived Life
As long as you remain tangled in the trance of unworthiness, not-good-enough-hopelessness, you will inevitably postpone fully being here, and continue to project your disappointment outward, placing the burden of your unlived life on those around you. Observe yourself carefully . . . honestly . . . without judgment . . . and notice how the denied, repressed or orphaned parts of your body, your heart, and your nervous system continue to appear to you as your partners, family members, children, friends.
Honor the role that the dream characters have played in your life until now – the unlovable one, the unworthy one, the broken one, and the failed one, the non-spiritual one, the addict, the insensitive, withholding and anxious ones. You need not go to war with these parts outside of yourself any longer. You need not sublimate them, distract yourself from them, push them away, project aggression toward them, heal them, or let them go. Understand this: they will let go when they are no longer needed to protect you from the grief and loneliness of your long ago broken heart. As you slow down and take back all the dimensions of your aliveness, you may dare to truly allow the innate knowing that you were never unhealed, that nothing is - or ever was - missing. Infuse your immediate experience with presence, kindness and acceptance. There is another story, another narrative from which you can project warmth, gratitude and love. Explore what the new story might be. You can always go back into the surging feelings, emotions, and sensations that the old narrative has safeguarded you from, and check . . . double-check, if you still need to be protected from the risk of loving yourself, your partner, your father, your friends, etc. In the raw, naked activity of life, of love, what it truly means to be a sensitive, vulnerable, awake human being is to choose consciously the story you are living into. Not after you clean up your past, not after you feel safe all the time, not after you heal all your wounds, not after you find your “soulmate,” not after you manifest great things, not after you replace the hopelessness with hope, and not after you find answers to all your questions. But now. Choose now. And then choose again and again . . . the old story or the next new one . . . and the next new story after that. You are evolving . . . Choices are changing and the story is evolving with you. To allow yourself to be touched by the possible implications of your very existence is utterly exhilarating. And completely terrifying simultaneously. Look closely, courageously. Can you see that one old way of being in the world is ending so that a truer, newer world may appear from behind the clouds of separation?