The Bitch Slap of the Soul (and how to avoid it)
If we take the time to listen, slow down long enough to hear, and banish the fear that stops us from accepting, we may come to realize that our soul has been talking to us for a long, long time.
In every moment our soul, our gut, is speaking to us.
It tells us what we like and what we don’t. Be it people, jobs, weather, coffee, cardio, cupcakes. When we have given space for our soul to live within our being, when it feels safe and valid and relevant, it is then that it can truly thrive. And, as it does, so do we.
Me on a dock reading a book I loved but don’t even remember because my life is unrecognizable now :-)
For many of us, though, these whispers fall on deaf ears. We are often too busy jumping from one task to the next to really listen. Or, even if we do, we may miss the true meaning of what it says. The whispers only stay whispers for so long. Like the twinges in our physical body that try, gently at first, to let us know that something is amiss. When we ignore them, those whispers turn into a scream. Our soul works much in the same way. Gentle nudges, moments of understanding, nuggets of bliss. They alert us to danger, give us insight, help us figure out what lights us up. When we stay in communion with soul, we stay in flow with the lessons She has to impart.
When we listen, the byproduct is a more harmonious life. When we don’t, Soul is not afraid to bitch slap us.
If I have had the good fortune to share space with you in person and trusted you enough to tell the story of my own metamorphosis, I likely allowed the phrase “breaking point” cross my lips. As humans we tend to share an understanding of what those words mean and that they (hopefully) tend to precede change. When we finally say “ENOUGH!” and really mean it this time. I have nothing against breaking points. I have had several of them. The bitch slap of the Soul. I find, however, that as time goes by, I see them in a different light.
A breaking point, by definition, is the point where we can take no more.
Maybe you think of it literally as something breaking or snapping under too much weight. For me, I think of a glass full of water. At what point does the glass overflow? Well, it depends. It could overflow from a tidal wave of water that could never possibly fit inside or it could overflow from just one drop. A drop of anything is usually not enough to cause any kind of consequence but when it comes to our “enough,” a drop is all it takes. And then we may look at this once incident (our “breaking point”) as being the reason we made a change but, really, it was the thousands of other drops that were already in the cup. If we were really listening and paying attention, we could have made the change when our cup was still practically empty.
Why don’t we do that?
Why don’t we cherish our likes and dislikes, our passions and talents, our tastes and preferences for what they are? Beautiful, unique, cosmic, special, valuable pieces of US.
Instead we stifle them, ignore them, change them, berate them, hate them, judge them. And we wonder why we are unhappy.
When I look back at the recipe that became my own transformation I am able to see that it took much more than breaking points. It wasn’t just the “never again” parts. It was equally the “more of this” and “less of this” and even some “what the fuck” ingredients that combined together to create the burning desire for something new, something better. Something that could breathe.
I have struggled for years with the decision to write or not to write. About my life, my loss, about the overwhelming weight and glorious potential of change. Over the years as this struggle has persisted I have learned some things. One, I know that it is not about me. I may share this tale of things that have happened in this life I call “mine” but, even so, it is not about me. I have also come to regard my own learning style in that I am most transformed, motivated, encouraged and inspired by hearing about what others have experienced. Listening to other stories feels good to me. And even if only one sentence resonates, I consider that a win. A return on investment of my own time. Can I share with one sentence that makes one person say “aha”? I don’t know. I hope so. That would be really cool.
It wasn’t easy to accept that I chose my silence. That is was me that believed control was love. That I allowed myself to be small to keep others big. That I have always had a voice even for the decades I chose to believe I didn’t have a right to use it. That I always had a choice even when I believed that I didn’t.
And this is true for you, too. And when you share your truth from a place of honesty and love, your soul will reward you with alignment and peace. In the place that it matters most. Within YOU.