Grieving the life my ego wanted

Since I was little I had these feelings that my life was going to be big. There was a special quality embedded in the future whenever I imagined it. As I went through my awakening this feeling filled me in a big way and became intense for some weeks. I thought there was going to be a big event. I thought the bigness was just around the corner. I kept thinking that this future would soon arrive.

I didn’t quite know what ‘big’ meant to me. Was it that I was going to be famous? Help people all over the world? Be involved in a big project? Have a life bigger and better than I could have imagined? Marry my soulmate? Travel all over the globe ? As the pages of my calendar shifted rapidly signifying the fast turning of time I came into many encounters with reality. Reality that this was not to be my life. Quietly I would argue with reality and tell myself that maybe it wasn’t here now, but if I was patient enough, it would come. Someday. I would be rescued from the mundane act of doing this work every day. Of having just what I needed but not necessarily what I wanted. Of simplicity and repetitiveness. I would quiet the small self inside of me that thought by not having bigness I had failed at life. I would be failing at my purpose and mission. I had lost my potential and my poor future children would have to sit with the weight of all I never accomplished.

With the recent cosmic tides of the ending of the year something opened up in me. A monumental crack emerged in this hope I had been gripping onto for years. It truly was my ego that needed a big bang at the end of this story of suffering. The american dream fulfilled. I wanted my future memoir to leave people with a happy ending. One that made everything okay and worth it. And this crack was threatening that. It all started with the one thought ‘What if none of it comes- your future doesn’t happen and this is all there is’. This floored me particularly because holding onto this hope was not a conscious or daily thing for me. For the most part I didn’t think about it, but the tricky thing about hope is that it still lays in the background and has an effect on your decision making and a thousand other things.

I let this sad new idea rip through me and make me shed the tears I needed to shed. I needed to let the hope slip away from my white knuckled grip. It cleansed me to admit that my life may stay this mundane. It hurt but it also felt like relief. I realized that it’s not the potential that matters but rather that I show my future children to be grateful for whatever life brings. To know my life is not my own, it is in the divine’s hands. And that I cherish it no matter how small or big. Those concepts are relative in the eye of the observer.

I grieved this dream and I did it right on the cusp of the ending of 2021. I had looked back at this year and felt sad at how little movement there was. Stagnancy can flame the fire and desire of escapism and fantasy within me. And even though I accomplished some major things this year, it felt like one long day of simplicity. During the past few years there is so much daily internal movement that it’s almost like my exterior physical reality has to be slow just to create balance. It may be a side effect of all the internal growth that’s going on and I would rather it this way than the other way around.

I knew this year and everything I was holding onto needed to go. The irony is that when I felt into the energy of 2022 it felt like movement. My preferred energy state. Like a rushing river instead of a pond. I realized I can embrace what is to come only by grieving this idea of what I hoped had happened. That by believing things will be stagnant forever it actually makes room for more of what is truly on it’s way.

It’s almost like the starseed within me is mourning the density and rules of physics of physical life. The dimension of time/space that creates slowness. Maybe it’s okay if all my day’s consisted of were watching netflix. Working out. Writing. Healing. Connecting with friends. Crying. Cups of tea. Sessions. Moments of stillness. Loneliness. Small loving moments. It would be okay but I would also have to feel what this brought up in me and be realistic that some days that’s going to be sadness. That there might always be a part of me, of my ego, that wished this grandness could still be a fun future reality.

My new idea is that I will I welcome my life in whatever form is best for the divine. Whether that’s alone. Partnered. With movement or not. With plane rides or just simple walks around my neighborhood. With financial abundance or just my basic needs met. Exciting plans or repetitive routines. Bursts of creativity or just lazy integrations.I will feel all that it brings up in me in order to unleash the deadened skin cells and allow them to fall away so as to create deeper layers of gratitude and contentment. May I grieve grieve grieve these dreams so that my true life and it’s trajectory may emerge within me and I may receive it with open arms rather than hope it had been different.