What if I am not living my purpose yet?
If I really came to this earth to nurture others, help others to heal themselves, and guide others to embodiment, why did my soul choose to be…so alone?
Perhaps I need the solitude and time to experience full embodiment?
Why did my soul choose not to birth children, marry a man whose children didn’t feel blessed to receive my love, and why would I live so far from my nieces and nephews?
I am a woman who is genuinely devoted to helping others experience embodiment in this life, yet I myself will never experience the full spectrum of a woman’s body. How can I fully embody my womanly nature if I haven’t birthed children?
Or at the very least have children to mother and love on in some way, shape, or form? I am not talking about a plant, nor an animal. A human.
These are the intrusive questions that every so often show up in my mind like an uninvited guest. They ramble on like an annoying voice-over we are forced to listen to while waiting on hold; there is no way to turn it off.
I have techniques and tools to shift my mindset, but once in a while, a particular longing sensation wells up in my heart that only fellow yearners would understand, and ruminating chatter can accompany that.
While I am aware that what I am about to share may sound boastful or arrogant, that is not my intent. It is to pull back the curtain so that my perspective is clear.
I know my work is not only effective, it is learned, tested, and proven to inspire change.
Since I have been full-time in my practice, I have documented just over 7,000 one-on-one sessions, equaling over 525,000 minutes. That is about 365 straight days of my life that I have spent heart to heart with clients, helping, doing what I can, using intuition, Feng Shui, and other subtle energy modalities to guide people to embody who they came to be.
This time doesn’t include the various retreats I worked on, three retreats I led, countless workshops and classes, prepping content and delivering in my membership, and the undocumented sessions I did in the three years building my practice.
I know my work is good. But still, at times, I am left pondering the “mess is my message” inquiry. And I know I am not the only one.
I was recently on a heartfelt phone conversation with my yoga-teaching, free-spirited, retreat-loving friend, and we were discussing the mysteries and sharing our current yearnings.
Her inquiry was less about children and more about family.
We both consider ourselves to be workers of the light, soldiers for love, and utterly devoted to surrendering all to the Divine. We are the kind of people who never stop working on ourselves, mainly to show up in the best way possible for the people we know we are here to serve. Then we hop on a phone call to hold one another accountable to that.
As she was sharing from the depths of her wisdom, the voice-over in my head shifted to the musical lyrics from one of my favorite singer-songwriters from the 90s, Alanis Morissette, “Isn’t it ironic?”
Here was my dear friend, a yoga instructor who brings intimate communities together in retreats and classes, sharing how she felt a lack for the most intimate community of all: family. And here I am on the other end of the line, a woman who has nurtured thousands of others (mostly women) into embodiment, yet at times yearn for that ultimate nurturing mother-child connection.
As my girlfriend and I shared pieces of our truth over the phone, we explored the “grass is always greener” proverb. I explained my recent reflections that if I did have children, I might not have created the space I had for so many others. And the same could be true for her; if she had the family she was yearning for, where would space be for the fantastic work she had accomplished?
From my perspective, we have both gained the indestructible drive we have now because of the lack and pain we have experienced. The motivation she possesses to build the beautiful community experiences she does, and the unexplainable impulse I feel to create effective self-nurturing and embodiment encounters, come from the yearning and longing we know.
I have another dear friend who perhaps experiences the opposite; she has a child and husband. She also does soul exploring work in the spiritual niche, and I am witnessing her take steps toward a long set intention of making space for herself to give birth to her purpose and be of service to others. It may have taken her a bit longer than she wanted because she does have a family to care for and put first.
So it’s not that the grass is always greener; it’s about perspective and how the grass looks from where we stand. The miracle comes from experiencing the shift in that perspective.
From where I stand, it seems like many fellow lightworkers and change-makers come into this life with some intense yearnings. Those very yearnings are all a part of the learnings.
For example, having longed for that mother-child connection helped me navigate other ways to explore inner child healing and self-nurturing. And that is, in part, what I help others to do.
That doesn’t mean that emotions of wishing for something I don’t have won’t still show up from time to time. But I have learned, it is all there for me, to help me understand the entire spectrum.
Alanis sang it well to my 16-year-old inner child, “Life has a funny way of helping you out when you think everything’s gone wrong and everything blows up in your face.”
What if it is all happening for us to truly help us out?
I believe what we yearn for helps us and is precisely part of what our soul chose to do and learn about. I believe it with my whole heart, and I see it more and more.
That doesn’t mean it is easy or feels good, but it does mean that when we crave, desire, and wish for something more, and we choose to dive in, there will be growth. It is the proof our ego may need, which affirms others are out there craving it, too, and potentially want help.
So as lightworkers and shadow walkers, we dive in big. We dive in to intimately know all parts of the yearning to help others who feel the same.
To my fellow lightworker and shadow walker, whose soul chose no family but whose heart yearns for connection, there is still love for you to connect into.
To my fellow lightworker and shadow walker, whose soul chose to birth children and have a family but whose nervous system yearns for more space, there is still time for you to share your gifts.
To my fellow lightworker and shadow walker, whose soul chose no children but whose heart yearns for motherhood and nurturing, there is still nourishment for you to give and receive.
May we all see the gift in the yearning and the call to share.