Above My Body
My mom and I like going to open houses.
We especially love fantasizing about all of the ways a room can be arranged.
What furniture goes where, and what color to paint the walls?
By the end of our tour of the houses, we usually end up discussing the improvements that would need to be made in order to get the most out of the space.
Open this wall up here.
Get a new washer/dryer.
Add some extra windows or doors.
And please God, tear out this carpet and put in hardwood flooring instead.
These comments aren’t meant to be judgemental but instead are an excited loving way to help the home realize its ultimate potential.
To turn it into a space that feels restorative and homey.
Over the past few days, I’ve been dealing with a neck spasm again.
Because of this, I’ve been even much more diligent about doing some breath work in the morning.
This morning after breath work, I floated softly into a meditation where I felt like I was above myself.
As if a part of my awareness was hovering just above my crown and looking over my entire body, down toward my toes.
There was a very clear distinction between that presence (what I believe was my soul) and the rest of my body.
It was detached but present. I could feel the tingles of awareness gently pulsing through my arms, legs and back.
But the presence I felt, was right above me.
Seeing my body as a place where my soul lives.
A house.
“Wow,” my soul said, looking around.
“There’s a lot of cleaning up to do”
It wasn’t judgmental. It was a matter of fact. It was said in love.
It was like she was looking around an open house, noting all the possibilities & opportunities for improvements.
She said it like it was her mission to allow my body to experience the most love and safety it can in its life time, so that my soul, the inhabitant of my body, can do her work while she’s here.
I use the word “Mission”- but the energy is less of an objective and more of a way of being and experiencing and learning.
Less “let’s clean up this house to get it sold” and more like “let’s make this house the best house it can be.”
More like purpose.
The cleaning she was referring to were those old protection patterns and held beliefs of my “enoughness” & worthiness.
Things that feel like cobwebs in my body.
Things that are SO clearly NOT me.
NOT the truth. Not my soul. Not created out of love but from fear.
There are old, out-of-date protection patterns, trauma responses, and stories, stuck in my body that are ready to be released.
Just like attending an open house and deciding the best thing would be to take down that old rusty intercom from the 1950s and use that space for a pretty built-in shelf.
Sure, the intercom was probably a cool functional feature, and at one point may have served a purpose, but it doesn’t make sense to keep something that doesn’t work anymore.
My soul was reminding me that these stories and long-held beliefs about myself that may have served a purpose at one point - are no longer needed.
After acknowledging the fact that my soul’s home needed some updates, I had a really beautiful moment that is hard to describe other than an abundance of compassion.
This part of my experience felt like how information is telepathically communicated at light speed in a dream. No one said or did anything in a dream, but you somehow know that the purple monkey is your sister and you have to follow her because she wants to show you something.
The message that was telepathically communicated to me, would be something like…
“These things are so human. It’s part of being a soul in a human body.
It’s okay.
You are not lost.
You are not alone.
Remember the truth of who you are.”
It’s cheesy in written form.
It’s tough to translate.
These words really don’t do it justice.
In this moment it was so clear that while I’ve been saying “My Soul” or “My Body…”
I belong to HER.
I belong to this great love outside of myself.
And I belong to myself.
Belonging…it makes me think that all of these protection patterns in my physical body were created from the fear of being separate.
The illusion that I am different from her.
The all-loving awareness.
That I am never separated.
Never Alone.
I always belong at home, in myself.