Lesson Learned – I Hope
If there’s one thing I can count on, it’s that when I step out of line, the souls will let me know, and get me back on track, no matter how much I complain, or how much it hurts. Which is what happened yesterday.
I’ve been in Erie, Pennsylvania for a month or so now, and word of mouth about me has been spreading. More and more, people have been requesting appointments with me, not only here, but from around the country. People here have been wonderful to me. In the short time I’ve been here, I’ve met people I will be calling friends for years to come. I’ve also had a taste of “celebrity.”
Not that I let that get to my head; not at all. What happened was I started to forget that I came here, in part, to heal some very deep wounds within my own soul. I also began to lose my sense of priorities. I left where I felt I was tolerated to come here where I’m celebrated. Being “celebrated” for my abilities, and more than that, being appreciated for who I am as a person, almost made me forget the lessons I’m here to learn.
I just finished reading a book by “celebrity chef,” Marcus Samuelsson, entitled, “‘Yes Chef.” I realized as I was reading his book that the souls were using it to remind me what is supposed to be important to me right now. Just to make sure I got the point, I heard something, yesterday morning, too personal to share with you, but the message hit me between the eyes. It left me in a funk for much of the day until I heard Fergie’s, “Big Girls Don’t Cry.” That song reminded me why I’m here in Erie, and what I have to do to get where I’m going; letting go of what doesn’t belong to me, never did, and never will.
I was reminded that I’m a messenger, and that my message is, “Death is not the end of life, love or relationships.” It’s the reason I’m alive.
I’m here, in Erie, to prepare myself to deliver that message in a much bigger way, to a much larger number of people than I was able to reach when I was content to fly under the radar. I almost forgot that. Perhaps I did forget, and I had to be reminded by the souls, whom I’m sure are hoping it won’t happen again. I’m also sure that if somehow I do forget, they’ll be happy to remind me, yet again.
The moral of this story is that when life feels as though it’s falling apart, in reality, it may be falling together. Trust the process.
I’d love to hear your thoughts. Please leave your comment below.