It’s not always easy being a human in this world. It’s always changing, and there is a lot of damage (psychic, physical, karmic, spiritual), with generations of unbalanced energies to process and recapitulate. All this complexity, unfortunately, expresses itself in how humans treat themselves, other humans, and the earth—thus creating cycles of trauma.
For me, in this life, I’ve always felt a responsibility to humanity as a species, and to this amazing planet. That somehow seems easier than it’d be to raise a single child of my own, even though the human collective acts, in general, pretty childishly.
I think a lot of parents try to live out aspects of their childhood and youth through their children. It’s so very destructive. There are better ways to exorcise one’s traumas and iniquities, yet it seems we only ever reach into our depths in only the closest of relations. Maybe that is the point of them after all; glass mirrors only offer us what we expect to see. Our fellow humans mirror a great deal more, in raw, unfiltered, ultra-high-definition.
I’m in my forties now, and still offloading garbage I got from my folks. Somehow sentiments such as “they did their best with what they knew” doesn’t settle my nerves. They made conscious choices. They fucked up, a lot. They sometimes apologized, decades after the fact. They were terrified, and I get that. They were arrogant, and ignorant, and I get that. They trusted in their own demons more than they should have, and I get that. But then they stopped growing, stopped daring, and stopped dreaming. Now it’s fantasy, aging, and hopefully not running out of money before running out of life.
It’s evident that a lot of parents in this current generation are quite a bit more aware than their parents were—and hey, we’re energetically not the same species in many ways. A significantly raised vibration and elevating consciousness affords us little room for playing along the same lines as they did before. Unfortunately, many still choose unconsciousness.
Some take it way far left and overcompensate, making soft, spineless weaklings of their kids—or too far off the other end, instilling terror, prejudice, massive ignorance, and perpetuating unnecessary racism, religion, and violence. Both sides are guilty of fostering narcissism. That’s a shameful waste, given we’re more abundant, safe, informed, and capable than ever in our recent history.
So, with the rise of the feminine, and rebalancing of the masculine, we’ll have to address all of these nasties we’ve pretended to be OK with for a long, long time. Personally, I’m going through the occasional hell, as it all unravels and disentangles. It’s very much a self-love/self-hate thing going on these days, and part of me knows it’s necessary and normal, given the parameters I must have devised before setting foot here, again, in this reality. It’s messy. It’s raw. It’s intense. It’s dense. It’s heavy.
It’s reason enough to dive even deeper.
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