This question of curious intent haunts my inner voice and the beating of my own heart.
What if this spiral staircase and the climbing of those steps toward my home, the me of who I am, was an illusion?
What if my inner warfare between the dueling ego and the soul was a bad dream?
What if the stories and the people who played the parts were acting out a true love affair?
What if love was always available, and I had just forgotten who I was?
Yes, it is the remembering. I had forgotten who I was.
The intimacy between my outer Self and my inner Self relied on a vulnerability that took courage. This courage, free of judgment and expectations, is not a destination. It is a love story. My willingness to choose being comfortable over being brave got lost in the swirling of life’s quickness. My love story held different endings, and by my choices found me lost and alone.
The collateral beauty is a love affair between our ego and our soul. It is our love story. It is who we are and how we live our life. It is the choices we make and our freewill to choose again.
God granted me the serenity of an awakening, a moment in time when my eyes became fully opened and my heart began to beat again to this newness. It was everything a remembering should entail—the lust for fresh ways that activated sensual and spiritual aspects of myself I had forgotten were within me, the glory for seeing the vibrancy of all I am, and the responsiveness of my surroundings to this newfound freedom. The freedom to be me in all ways and all times.
Kyle Gray—a psychic medium and an angel master—says, “The Divine waits gently in the heart of the warrior.”
The heart of a warrior? I had never thought of a warrior as having a heart: only as having weaponry to battle. Maybe there is no battle between the ego and the soul. Maybe it is a love story—learning to bear witness to choosing love, learning to see what matters most and choosing that, learning to grow upward and onward from pain, learning to be oneself and loving that Self.
I had never thought of myself as a warrior, although many times I felt the urgency of battle and the efforts of a yearning to win. God waits for us to come back home to him and to our SELF. The Self is the one he created us to be. It is our true one. It is the goodness and the joyfulness of who we are. It is the ego as the powerhouse to be stronger and question our wrong moves and misled directions in life. The heart is the pathway for all that is, and all that is possible. It is the cross-section for the ego and the soul to come home together and collaborate in authenticity and truthfulness.
God’s synchronistic endeavors were noticed one week when I kept hearing the word “warrior” and seeing it in content on my phone and in my emails, and hearing it on the radio. That was the week Kyle Gray’s quote came upon my eyes. The same week I heard the song by Hannah Kerr titled, “Warrior”. It replenished my newfound understanding for breathing; seeing the light within dark moments; learning as a way to build strength, faith and love as inner weapons; and a remembering that no one person, event or circumstance in my life was in vain. It was gifted to me as a means for learning to love.
Fear had trampled my heart, shoving love to an almost non-existent feature. My beliefs ran ragged through the storm of life’s wild momentum. Unfortunate and negative wanderings with wrong choices, mistaken identity, and misrepresentation kept me chained to an alter ego. I knew something felt off, and I knew I was not me. I felt wildly lost within my own life.
My un-remembering was an unconscious choice and became my sole responsibility to recover that which was impressed upon me at birth, that beautiful day I entered this world filled with magic and pure essence of heart-pumping joy. The innocence of childhood and a sequestered upbringing landed me in an unconscious state of a dense outer reality. Just as the folding happened in perfect form, so did the unfolding.
A shift, a crack, an opening led me to a beginning, my beginning. This new start filled with such trepidation and anxiety brought nuggets of fascination and thrill. It was a vast learning with depth and light, shows of both dark and brightness. The learning, the lessons, the mountains of conversations were direct invites from God to come home. He yearned for me to return to who I was and come home to my heart as a daily ritual for living.
The choice to return was a gift I had to give myself as a token for all the joy and appreciation for each person, each event, each belief, and each excavation for recovering the truth, my truth.
The story of love within the boundaries of this journey is the awakening to the abundance of necessity for the ego and the soul to unite in efforts that far exceed the daily grind of an outer reality. These two entities can marry a pattern for collaborating and honoring the diversity each brings to our consciousness. They can work together for collateral beauty.
