You have to surrender to the call of your own truth. That's where your relationship to the bigger Truth starts.
I wanted to start a blog for years before I actually did. My wobbly journey toward authentic power has been going on for the better part of 10 years, and though I’d written a lot about my own personal road, I sure wasn’t sharing any of it.
It was too raw and why too threatening.
But I was driven to share my experiences through the process: the highs and lows, the out-in-left fields, and the outer spaces. And I understand why. When you surrender to the call of Truth, you’re not hitching your wagon to an obscure ideal that has no real connection to you.
You’re surrendering to the call deep inside your own being, right where you are.
Until your own that truth, you don’t have any real hope of digesting anything bigger. Until you can be honest with yourself about yourself, you can’t expect to be capable of being honest about anything else.
All enlightenment, change, freedom, power, starts at home. Starts with you looking in the mirror and stopping the lies.
It starts there. Where it ends … well, ask me right before I’m dead, and maybe I’ll have a better answer for you. But for now, all I know is, that’s where it starts.
So back to the blog. I wanted a safe place to tell this truth inferno. To help synthesize it: the Hero’s Journey for it … the paradigm-shattering experience of it … and its phoenix-rising integration.
I wanted to talk about all my inherited, limiting beliefs and how many of them, inexplicably, just weren’t fitting anymore and the baffling, scary implications of what that meant. About …
… Who I was versus who I’d always thought myself to be.
… Where I was standing and what my real gifts were – whether people approved or not.
… What my message was and who desperately needed to hear it … and why.
So I did what any self-respecting survivalist on the razor’s edge of early courage and late accountability would do: I hid away for a few more years, vehemently shaking my head at anything that remotely looked like a spotlight.
Because, look, you have to understand. I was raised in a fundamentalist Christian home where it really did mean something. It wasn’t just talk. Then I married a man who began combing through the Scriptures to find out what they really said – and didn’t say – about damn near everything. Regardless of what we’d been taught.
In doing that, we were already mavericks. In rejecting the status quo, we were already subversive. Borderline heretical to some. But even through all this, evening asking some tough questions, I still colored inside the lines and didn’t talk too openly about anything I wasn’t supposed to.
Like, you know … reincarnation … and the overflow of documented cases that defied easy, pat explanations. And how we’re taught to ignore the reference to it in the Gospels.
Like how when the word ‘forever’ appears in Scripture, it’s coming from a Hebrew word that actually mean an eon or an age: a finite amount of time. So what does that do to our inherited, one-size-fits-all ‘forever’ hell?
Like how a woman in any time frame is arbitrarily labeled a Jezebel simply for being too honest, too vocal, too stubborn and too full of personal power. ‘Jezebel’ … or worse.
And how everything we’re supposed to be against can’t conveniently, let alone statistically, be of the devil. Like (and I take these from my own experience): potpourri … earrings … the science of reading body language … fantasy novels … pop music and poor Lionel Richie …
Never mind a nose ring! (Which I did at 40, against all opposition, but that’s a story for another day.)
Being a good girl on the narrow path was the way I was raised. Try to be happy, but not too selfish. Serve God first. None of it’s bad advice, but something got lost in translation!
The underlying message from the System was: serve God in the way we tell you to serve God, and we’ll approve of you. Don’t believe or pursue anything off-limits, or you won’t have our validation …
You won’t be one of us. You be one of THEM. The Heretics. The Deceived. The ones whose consciences are seared.
The Church didn’t scare the hell out of me! They scared the hell into me! And in all honesty, a very large part of walking this path of truth and empowerment has been the painstaking work of reversing the brainwashing.
I’m not talking here about true spiritual practice, about real relationship with my Creator. That’s the solid gold inheritance my parents gave me, and bless them for it.
I’m talking about the self-serving middle man of the System that took it upon itself to speak to me of God when they clearly didn’t know what they were talking about. Because if they did, their focus and agenda would be elsewhere. Their works, different works.
If they were really speaking for God, they would show the Essence of God, the POWER of God. It would emanate from them and change the world without manipulation, control, unyielding dogma, and bloody swords.
So … okay. I share all this to give a personal backdrop for why going off the reservation in my own quest for truth and integration has been such a challenge for me. Why stepping into the light of honest speaking about my fundamental beliefs and how they are a’changing has been scary.
Some will accuse me of turning my back on my beliefs. That’s okay. Because they’re right. I have turned my back on many of my beliefs. But that’s a totally separate thing from turning my back on God, which I haven’t nor will I ever do, no matter what is said or believed about me. Or how badly I trip up.
So at this point, I have to ask myself: why is transformation and liberation so important to me? Why?
Because you can’t give what you don’t own. Pure and simple. If you don’t own (the truth and breadth of) your authentic Soul, then you can’t give it to God or anyone else for that matter. Including yourself.
You. Can’t. Give. What. You. Don’t. Own.
The reverberating implications bring me back to the starting point of this post. (‘Good!’ you say, ‘Cause my eyeballs are bleed’n!’)
I wanted to start this blog for years, but I was afraid. Then I took the leap, and it wasn’t so bad. It was gratifying to accomplish a goal. But I wanted more than ‘gratifying’. I wanted my words to POUND with intense, raw presence and power capable of breaking chains off people!
That deep, deep resonance was just – missing. And for a while, I didn’t know why. I was doing my best to put what I was learning into my posts, to be encouraging, but they still lacked something.
Slowly, over this past year of SERIOUS inner metamorphosis, I came to understand what it was.
It was ME. I was missing.
The full-on monty, the transparent, no-holds barred ME. The child/girl/woman fighting for her life, her Soul, fighting with everything she’s got and sometimes with what feels like nothing, melting, dying down in the chrysalis, being smelted and reconstructed by some Terrible and Compassionate Intelligence hell-bent on the destruction of who I used to be …
In order to birth the Second Me. The Me I was Born to be.
THAT’S the essence that must be in these words, in these posts, on this blog! My own tumultuous wrestling, my spirit-fired questions, my human missteps, and my raw vulnerability …
My Soul’s blood and irrepressible Faith for the future. For all our futures. Nothing less is worthy of being read and digested by anybody! Not if I want to be a true Catalyst.
So now I get it. I have to truly SHARE myself and my struggles on the tremulous journey to Authentic Power.
And I’ll just have to become okay with making myself a target to shine a little light onto someone else’s dark path. To say ‘Over here! You’re not alone! I’ve been in the dark, too, and I’m not out yet, so how about we talk together so it’s not so scary?’
Because if we can find a safe harbor to anchor in, to tell our subversive truth in, to be friends and supporters of each other in, to bind up our wounds and giggle and practice bravery in, we can literally change the world for each other!
Isn’t that what Love and Truth-telling are all about? Isn’t that loving each other out of of our prison and into radiant wholeness?
If we do this, then the Alchemy of our Soul work will become something solid under our feet. It will draw others. It will produce the necessary effects … for the right people, at the right time.
And it will become strong enough to withstand whatever mounts an attack against it.
So that’s what I commit to here, to share the words of the Second Me. If I’m courageous and full of heart and I persevere, maybe I can walk with you through your own Phoenix fire. Maybe I can witness the birth of the Second You …
“… Unless a man be born again …”
Then Pandora’s Box will have sprung well and truly open. Then my Soul’s hope will have become seeded in the world.
Until next time, my friends. And Godspeed.
Join my mailing list here.
Post Photo: L. Schofield