Image by Nocturny Deviantart
“You were once wild here. Don’t let them tame you.”
– Isodora Duncan
Stepping into the labyrinth of Spiritual adventure is to open ones self to a myriad of experiences, the commitment to the notion and practice of seeking.
That search on a personal level came from a place of inner yearning; to know, to understand, to unravel the mysteries; to touch the primal livewire of something magickal and Other.
There was an innate knowing already, almost within my very bones, that I have come to feel is a spark passed down by my ancestors that fuels the fire of my inner fascination with the inferno of spirituality; that which burns from the inside as passionate desire to reshape ourselves, Phoenix-like from the ashes of who we used to be.
In a world that focuses unnecessarily and almost completely on the surface features, it can be an alienating feeling when one is fascinated by deeper thoughts, philosophical debates and the deconstructive mindset.
Whilst simple pleasure can be found in the mainstream, my soul ached endlessly for more. To dance around a bonfire howling at the stars instead of clubbing, to converse about the meaning of the universe rather than how much liquor had been drunk, to connect truly, utterly, and deeply.
To be understood, and loved, for the little weirdo that I was, and am.
Within the process of sharing spiritual dialogue the pitfalls of Toxic Spirituality and the resistance that comes with it is sadly predictable as a side effect of a human desire to control that which is other.
The practice of purposeful alienation exhibited by many in order to silence those who discuss and speak out around matters of spirituality is an invasive and ugly tumour within spiritual circles.
When a persons “right” to speak is met with ridicule and hostility, and the purpose of their thought (and feeling) process is derided in an attempt to undermine their worth.
Why share spiritual discussion?
Because I am not ashamed to; and in the sharing there is also seeking. A thought shared presents a little piece of who we are, perhaps recycling a little shadow in doing so – presenting it to the world as nothing more or less than the sum of personal experience and belief.
In doing so, perhaps we reach others in need of the message; because the disconnect from humanity is palpable in a world where what other people “deserve” is debated in all levels of social interaction, as though self appointed positions of power equate to the right to tyranny.
Sometimes, speaking from the heart and soul can bring other people home.
Home, is a concept of belonging that has plagued my personal growth at every turn, because every physical home has effectively been a cage; leverage of an economic kind by those who prey on my wound, and in truth, a part of my shadow that I am learning to heal and love.
A deeply empathic part of myself that yearns to connect with others, to love as deeply as I always have, which seemed to me to beyond what most people expressed. I chided myself for being overly sentimental and too attached to the idea of belonging; to be truly seen and loved and valued by someone who thought I was as magickal as stardust and just as cosmic.
I reminded myself that everyone wants a soul mate, and I wasn’t any different… nothing special.
That feeling gnawing in the back of my skull that I belonged by someones side as we strode out into the world, side by side, was nothing unique.
That the way certain stories and songs drew an energetic pain out of me that brought me truly and deeply to a well of emotion that seemed beyond myself was just a flair for the dramatic.
After all, my biological upbringing had instilled in me the ‘truth’ of how valuable I was… hadn’t it? And that was to say, I was utterly replaceable.
People always left.
And told me how difficult I was to love.
It has taken years to even begin unpicking this self-sabotage that was planted by others (and unwittingly nutured by my own self dislike.)
To give up on the quest to ‘plant myself into concrete’ where I did not belong, and gain approval from people who were never going to love me; to conquer that demon that echoed out from familiar patterns; hoping to heal the broken and show them that they weren’t alone, reaching out to the wounded and thinking they might understand…
Part of myself feels tired at the regurgitation of those seeking still to invalidate and make us feel inconsequential, who hop onto the bandwagon of damaging the esteem and self worth of those who already feel at odds with a social structure which feels fundamentally broken.
The other part will not let it lie. We seekers are putting ourselves on a line, to recover the knowledge that has been lost to the masses, to remember the dirt beneath our feet, the songs of our ancestors, and the magick in the inbetween. To look at the world in awe and wonder for all the majesty that is out there. To connect. To belong. To seek.
Then there are those moments of pure joy when you do manage to connect with people who are just your brand of weird. They celebrate who you are on every level without seeking to diminish your light. They are your fertile soil and not only encourage you to grow but are completely and utterly delighted in the process.
I dream still of reaching out headlong into a world side by side with people who completely connect and understand, to seek to be and embody the change that this world is crying out for desperately. To stand against those cutting down the human need to connect, be appreciated, to be heard, and to be loved, even celebrated.
It’s a little closer today than ever before.
Many blessings, Starlets
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