I am freaking out. Sometimes, I get anxious—I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. I want a plan. I don’t trust enough. I can wax poetic on these topics to others–trust me, I do–but when it comes to me, it’s hard to listen to my own words I deeply believe in. I don’t always internalize them, then guilt trip myself for not internalizing them, and the cycle repeats. Sigh.
Before my friend calls, I was in more or less a good mood, and yet, as soon as she called, I found myself beholden to the green envy monster of jealousy. She begins sharing how she’s entering into her own flow, something I’m deeply happy for for her. However, hearing her joy, rather than seeing it as inspiring, makes me feel awful. Then I feel awful for feeling awful. I find myself in a coveting spiral. Soon, I’m in my own miserable place, totally selfish, not wanting to be, my mind wishing I had done more. But rather than sit and stew in it, I open up my blue-chakra throat and let it out.
“I was in such a good mood and now, I’m freaking out. I know this is ridiculous and selfish and I’m so glad for you, I really am, and yet, I just arrived in this awful mental place and what is going on?” I whine like a 3-year-old. Thankfully, my dear friends have learned when to indulge me, and when to tell me to gracefully stop.
Without pause, she says, “You’re comparing. It’s normal. We all do it. But you know you don’t have to compare yourself because guess, what, you can’t! You are the most perfect version of you.”
They’re beautiful words, but they’re not enough to pull me out of my head spiral. I’m already standing up to go and get stress chocolate from the counter. My hand has the almond-chocolate bar in its palm and the wrapper is open and I’m walking back to the couch, thinking sure, easy for you to say, all is well now. It’s a bitter though, totally corrupted, as I know the literal days and weeks of work this friend has spent living with and loving herself. I’m just mystified that I’m observing myself fall into this downward spiral, as if I’m watching it all unfold and don’t know how to stop it. Then, she asks,
“Don’t you realize that just breathing on this earth is a miracle?”
“What do you mean—like, environmentally speaking?”
“No, although that too. But what I mean is that our souls decided to come to this earth and live out this life here. In this place where there are so many division, including the actual human body, that keep our souls from each one another. We decided to come here anyway, and just to breathe, and learn how to be, is a miracle. That’s it. That’s the basis of what we have to do.”
This hit me in the gut. My soul screamed out, “YESSSS!” I felt like a warrior, felt a wave of recognition. I set down the chocolate bar.
“I need to think about this. I’ll call you back.”
For the next three hours, I drew pictures, listened to music, and reconnected with my soul. What I felt was this: There is nothing in this world that is random. When there’s a coincidence, a coming together, it’s when the soul has reached beyond the body and touched the surrounding world, or when another soul has bypassed our human body and seen us, the true us.
A natural beauty, a new relationship, a hummingbird sitting still, a roadrunner. These moments are pure delight because the soul is reminded that it is not alone, living in this often lonely world. Just breathe. These beautiful moments are reminiscent reminders of what exists beyond. These realizations come when the mind is asked to be quiet so that the soul can, finally, speak.
Next time you’re in freak out mode, because it happens, to all of us, and it’s ok, take a moment to remind yourself: Being a soul in this world is hard. Just breathing, here, is enough. There are many things that are broken. But finding your own balance is a place to start. From there, reground, regroup, and send your warrior soul some deep loving for the journey that this life is, and the adventure it will continue to be. And know that you’ll freak out again. Noticing that makes it feel a little less heavy, helps to pull the soul forward a little more gently.
