Once upon a time there came to earth a man who's heart was bursting, glowing, shining with hope, love and creativity. The people he came through to live and learn here were chosen by him, though he would not remember this as he became immersed in his human life.
He came (as we all do) to grow apart from his pure soul as he grew up. He learned struggle, fear, self-doubt and 'responsibility'.
He found comfort and resonance in creative endeavors . . . sketching, painting, sculpture and writing. His heart often became full to overflowing with these yearnings and when he listened to his heart, he was fulfilled, happy and ready to utilize the gifts his pure soul knew he was here to share with the rest of the world.
But hot on the heels of this blessed euphoria was guilt. Shame for even dabbling in the 'kindergarten' mentality of art. Constant reminders of 'Who do you think you are?' would dribble heavy black doubt all over his glow until he began to believe it. It took a long time. It took a lifetime for this angel.
An artist's spirit is never easily doused and because of this, they are known to 'suffer' for their art. It takes strength and perserverance to get back up when you've been knocked down so many times. In fact, it is very nearly impossible. He came through so much in his life. And what he left the earth not knowing was that for every struggle, for every wish, for every dream he abandoned . . . he lit the path. Each heartache was a latern, every tear and struggle, a compass for another. His purest soul has left footprints and I am privledged to be a daughter soul of his.
The cycle is never broken, but built upon. You see, though I do not remember it, I chose him and he me. If we can simply step back from our busy worlds and take a quiet look at the souls we chose to bring us through . . . I believe we can light the road we struggle along in so many ways. Each lifetime has great purpose though it may not be apparent . . . even to the one who's lived it.
I've needed his spirit lately. . . my dad. I know he's always with me, at times more prominent and close. I've always listened to what he 'was not', how he struggled, his shame, his inabilities, his fear . . .
This year, Dad, I want to celebrate you! You were so much more to me than the sum of your 'jobs'. To me, you were the magnificent glow of your abilities. You were an artist, a creative soul yearning to be set free in a world that caged you, and did it 'neath the guise of loving your family . . . responsibility . . . 'reality'.
I believe we come back here to overcome. Not in the individual sense, but as part of a whole . . . I think of it as an unending stream of shimmering lights all whirling and swirling in the endless heavens and all around us, every day . . . here . . . there. Never more revealed than when we 'wake up' on earth. For if we can manage awakening, before we go back to the light, the evolution of the whole is vastly advanced.
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