Beware Of Those Who Want You To Get In Line Or Get Out.
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The sun is rising in your soul, dear one. Each morning is a birth, and you scream and you cry and you smile as you bear the delights and burdens of your true soul.
It doesn’t all happen at once. You grow and grow inside of yourself, until your body explodes with your presence. You must show up completely, bearing the blood and the tears of holding your own naked body in your trembling hands.
This birth is not easy, it is not for the faint of heart. It is not for those who want to color between the lines, or go through this life unscathed. It is for the warrior hearts who would rather hold their beating bloody heart in their hands, then walk around with the light dimmed in their eyes.
I have watched you awaken, crawl, walk, live, dance, die, to only rebirth yourself as the Phoenix does, rising from its shell. I have watched you fight like hell to let go and let in that which is truly your own.
You think there is something wrong with this, that somehow you should always be living, or dying, that it’s too damn hard straddling the line between fear and love.
You do what most of us do — we who are starved for the deeper life, who have been swimming in the shallow end ready to plunge deep into the truth that shakes them awake in the middle of the night.
You hire a guru. Someone to save you. Someone who will look into your eyes and tell you exactly what you need. And you learn to live on your knees and you aim your every move to please.
You reason that this person holds the key to your sanity. That you were not alive until she found you and you lean on her every word. You begin to quote them in conversations, instead of quoting your friends or lovers. You spend more time with these leaders than those who do not need you to be sick or small for them to love you.
Go to a new workshop, go to a new class. Maybe this next time, you’ll be saved, you reason. Maybe the next one you’ll get what you need and you’ll find the medicine that makes the birth of your soul less painful.
But there is none. There is no quick fix. Fear the ones who tell you the way out of this, and question you when you begin to find your own. Fear the ones who need you to agree, nod your head in agreement and smile in order for you to belong.
You will always be handing out flyers for her newest venture. She will always ask you to help her as she slowly takes over every inch of your life, if you let her.
Why are you so eager, powerful one, to throw away your gorgeous mind to adopt a new one made of stone? Weighed down by someone else’s truth, someone else’s wants, someone else’s bones?
You unconsciously maim your own body, to keep this savior happy. You reason that your broken body is necessary, to fulfill the self-fulfilling prophesy: that you need someone else to breathe you to life.
As if your own thoughts aren’t right. Powerful one, don’t you see that you will never be right standing in the pale light of someone who feeds off our sickness? A scavenger, always with a new mantra, a new practice, who promises that if you just try this, you might just finally be on their level, just maybe?
The moment you see through it, you decide to hold the line of your truth and she throws it back at you. She spits fire at your courageous argument: the one who allows you to disagree and think freely, the one that lets you stand on your own two feet without apology.
“Get in line,” she will tell you, “or get out.” And you beg to be re-accepted in that community because you’ve been ignoring your own, and her eyes staring down at you have been your only home.
My bright ones, this guru is not your friend. She never was, and never will be. She laughs with you, half-smiles at you, and makes you think that maybe, just maybe, you are important to her. But you never are. Some other student always will be more beloved, and she will continue to remind you of this, until you can’t take it anymore.
Until you get the message, until you let it sink in: there is no one else who can save you other than your own two hands. Do not continue to live by her demands.
Save yourself.
If you need a midwife to your dreams, find the one who loves you… as herself.
The one who sees your joy as her wealth.
She will kneel at the fire in your heart, and teach you how to kneel there too.
Go find the one who does not ask to be idolized, but the one who washes your feet with her tears and her love.
Find the one who lets you talk, who lets you shine. She does not need you to be casual about the force of good you are in this hungry world.
The healer who cannot wait to see the magic you create when you don’t play it small, when you don’t let your truth suffocate.
Kneel at the altar of the guru within.
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Maria Palumbo is a healer. She is a dancer in the dark. She lovingly guides women in the retrieval of their own souls through coaching, workshops, and community development. She celebrates freedom from shame in body, mind, and soul. Her work is fun and delicious, making the journey of healing gorgeous and satisfying, like a kiss under the Full Moon. Fall in deep love with your soul by connecting with her on Facebook or at her website.
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