I mentioned in my last post that I’ve kept myself into a sort of a mental prison. After talking to my therapist about it and going for a walk after, it came to me – another piece of the puzzle.
After the dreams about my past lives, I had another few empowering dreams – one symbolising letting go of the burden I’ve been carrying by throwing things out of a backpack I’ve been carrying, and another – expressing myself freely by singing to a song I don’t remember the words of but nevertheless singing loudly and freely.
To me, those dreams symbolise my emotional release of the trauma I’ve been lugging around for lifetimes. To myself, I declared that I no longer wish to carry this burden and I want to live my life free of limitations and express myself fully and authentically.
I feel like I’m being born just about now.
I feel like I’ve been living my life based on my past experiences in previous lives. I’ve been the person that went through those lives at that time – I haven’t been the authentic version of myself but my past me.
I know it’s hard to comprehend. But now I understand that I’ve designed my life up to date in a way to re-live that past trauma. And I understand that this was needed in order for me to realise all this and finally let go of the past.
And it makes so much sense because we do create our lives in a way that we think about them, and we are what we think ourselves to be. But you see how easily we could fall in a trap. And still, if that doesn’t happen, how are we ever going to know who we truly are?
Everything is in perfect divine order.
But sometimes, as in my case, it takes lifetimes to become aware of this.
Let me illustrate what I mean with the example of my life in the recent years.
The past four years of my life have been hard. I went through many difficult states and feelings, and the result of that was shutting myself away from the world. I’ve isolated myself from most of the people in my life to such an extend that I forgot what human connection is about, and I no longer know how to re-connect. It has become painfully hard for me to do it and at the same time I crave it strongly but I feel incapable of doing it. It’s tormenting.
Not only that, but I also find it hard to physically go out. Even to the shops. And in a way, the house where we live now has helped me to do that.
Even though it’s in the middle of the town, our house is quite hidden amidst a gathering of trees and bushes – most people don’t even know there are houses here. It’s also below the level of the main road that passes – it’s in a decrease and energetically that also makes it hard to leave – you have to climb a hill to come out in the open.
The history of this terrace of houses dates back to the 1700’s and once it was a school. Moreover, our main predecessor was an old lady who never got married or had kids and had a quiet, secluded life till her last breath. The rest of the occupants on the terrace are a few elderly ladies living on their own, an elderly gay man, and a middle-aged bachelor. My partner was the last child on the terrace (before our child) and his mom is just around the corner still, slightly separate from the rest of the houses on the terrace.
When I first came here, I thought this was paradise. But now I know that my soul has chosen this place for me so I can encounter everything I’ve had so far, here in this house, on this terrace, in this town.
The perfect place to turn into a prison, and then break free from it.
And don’t get me wrong – the place is wonderful in it’s own way, but what I’m trying to illustrate is that it represented the perfect collateral of characteristics for me to experience what I needed to. In particular, the feeling of imprisonment.
And why imprisonment?
I know with my heart what had happened to me in that past life when I was accused wrongfully. I felt so ashamed of what had happened and my name was stained. I literally shut myself away from the world in my residence. Never to be seen again and be forgotten. The stain was too big for me to wash away and I fell pray to my sense of shame. Even though I was innocent, my life was broken. I couldn’t undo what was wrongfully done to me and I hid myself away from people, life and the world. A self-imprisonment.
And it isn’t a coincidence that this is how I’ve lived all this time here in this house, on this terrace, in this town.
And I’ve had so many negative experiences – all perpetuating my past life narrative. All my doing.
Until I broke through.
It’s hard to re-write the story but now I’m aware where it’s coming from. I can see it from a different angle, enough to give me strength to pull through and come out on the other side.
One last thing to share for today is the realisation that, as I’ve mentioned before, I still haven’t fully grieved the death of my mother and sister. It’s still raw and sore in me because I haven’t fully allowed myself to express and deal with those feelings. Every time I mention something related, the lump comes up in my throat but I still hold it because I’m afraid the sadness is going to spill all over. My grief has been suppressed for so long that it has become bigger and more intimidating. But now I know why.
It’s because first I’ve had to deal with the grief of my lost freedom – my lost life and my lost self in the past.
I had to re-create this loss, so we teamed up with my mom and sis, all serving our souls’ purpose, and live my life here in this house, on this terrace, in this town, in this country.
Now that this trauma is resolved, I can finally start grieving the loss of my mother and sister.
At the same time, I’m aware that we teamed up with my mom and sis, all serving our souls’ purpose.
Which means it’s all in perfect divine order and grief isn’t the right response.
But a celebration of life is. A celebration of being born innocent again.
Have you realised any shocking truths about your life? Have you allowed yourself to dig deep enough? What monsters are you hiding in your closet? Share in the comments!0