Pressing pause on trying to become, to just let yourself be.

As I embarked on this journey, initially, it was out of pure desperation. The lows of lows that seem to find you when you’ve just had enough.

Enough stress.
Enough sickness.
Enough dysfunctional relationships.
Enough bullshit.

It drew me in because it showed me there was more out there. A different way to see things that relieved the very pains I was experiencing. Like seeing a sunrise or sunset for the very first time.

There was so much beauty. So much love. So much hope. So much less friction.
How could you not get completely enveloped by it? It feels so incredible.

Decoding the loops. Rearranging the patterns. Reframing thoughts.

Tuning.
Shedding.
Optimizing.

Ease.
Relief.

But this time, it came through consciousness expansion.
If feeling this good is possible, where is the edge? What is my max capacity?

This feels so good… I want more of it…

More barriers broken down. More fine tuning. More tools, books, podcasts.
I can figure this out, I know it.

Searching.
Reaching.
Stretching.

Every so often, and clearly right now, there are times that just don’t feel good. Not in a sad or depressed kind of way. Just down from the highs, but further below than the normal drift.

The subtle reactions of past patterns are apparent... it kind of feels like….

Failure.
Regression.

The reinforcements come in hot. Why do I do this to myself? I’ve set myself up for this, I always do. I will never reach the state that I long for. Is this really worth it?

Am I causing the very suffering I am trying to relieve?

But just because that is where my mind goes from past hurt, doesn’t mean it is real, or where I am headed. As I have been moving through this, trying to see it from the 10,000-foot view – without judgment, but with curiosity – it feels like something else entirely.

It feels like grief.
And I think I’m starting to understand why.

In The Sovereign Empath I wrote about the transitions I can see that I’ve walked through, and loop back through periodically. I honor what they have taught me, graciously. But with each of these turnings, there are parts that held me together that no longer served a purpose. So, I overwrote that code to allow the new me to emerge. I took off that mask to reveal what was underneath.

These were important moments. Important identities that served me well. But now, they are gone. Not gone as in discarded. Just no longer in the same form – composted. Integrated.

That. Felt. Heavy.
And it still does.

My analytical mind immediately starts trying to resolve the issue. Fix it.

I’ve rewritten pages of patterns.
Volumes of code.
I can do this.

The self-doubt screams from the background. You’re failing! You’ve done so much “work”, how’s that working out for you? Are you any further along?

The Pathfinder in me tries to calm them both down. The trail isn’t always clear; this will be ok. Trust the process.

The cynic in me says – you’re fucked.

I’m tired and I don’t really want to feel this way.
But I do. And trying to make myself feel anything else is not helping.

I am here.
Right now.
What is the next move?

I’ll let it move through me and give it the attention that it is asking for until it also moves through its cycle of integration. I won’t rush past this as I have in the past.

The spiritual awakening crowd floods the waves with love and light and rainbows and unicorns. I think that has its place and I’m not judging it. I’ve ridden that current before and will again.

Just not right now.

I’ve glossed over so much in my life, afraid to feel it. Worried that it would break me. Or worse, crack the mask and expose me to the judgment of the world. Not only the hidden me, but the fact that I was hiding in the first place.

Reality has so much more texture. And it is screaming at me to be acknowledged.

This process can move different ways for different people. I have an “all or nothing” approach to most things that I choose because it gives me the full experience. The most exposure to its rawness. I want to feel it. Fully. Only then do I really understand it, or at least what I think of it in that moment.

When I wander into a part of my experience that I would like to shift, I tend to not make minor adjustments. I just burn it down and start over.

Consciously rebuilding each time.
Over. And over.

I don’t want to rebuild again…not yet. I want to rest into what’s already here.

Lower energy.
Less intensity.
Less urgency to get it right this time.

I want to take time to grieve the versions of myself that got me here, even if they didn’t come with me. Not the kind of grief that breaks you… the kind that quietly asks you to let go of who you thought you’d always be.

And accept who you have become.
Even when that feels messy.
Even if it is incomplete.

Walking the path back to yourself doesn’t remove you from the experience of life. It is not always riding the highest wave and avoiding crashing into shore.

It is still life.
It is still making sense of this experience.
It is still pulling up your pants each day to get things done.
There is still texture.

But that texture… now feels familiar.

Maybe not rushing past it to the next phase is the right move this time.
Maybe that has been the move all along.

Not what is next.

What is now.