Twin Flames - The Island of Temperance
Pieces of me...
Throughout my awakening, there have always been pieces of me that needed to catch up with the rest. Pieces of the little-self that even though they acknowledged the truth, still needed to run and linger in the opposite direction of the light. They just weren’t ready to come home. They weren’t ready for the brightness. As the soul, I was always aware of these pieces that didn’t fully align with the rest of me. Like reluctant children they gallivanted around, breathless, one hand thrusted out to shield their eyes from the sun, blocking the intensity, saying ‘not yet, not yet, not yet.’
For me personally, I am talking about sobriety. If you have read my blog post on addiction you will know where I once found myself and how I thought I was ready to let go. Only it turned out the little-self had an ulterior motive when it came to long-term sobriety. A part of me – most of me – was relieved to be out of the choppy waters and onto dry land. To think I stood a chance of a life without that hook in me, without the illusion of a comfort that only brings suffering. But, I was also doing it for the physical world, expecting to see magical occurrences outside of my body that would ‘reward’ my changes. After three months, when nothing astounding had happened, the addictive voice piped up suggesting that since nothing much had changed in my physical world (aside from the blessed relief of feeling peaceful and healthy) that I might as well return to where I came from. Sudden and inexplicable cravings returned, and I knew I would succumb to them. To be honest, I didn’t attempt to resist them. I was aware that you can’t force the little-self to be ready. I couldn’t manhandle it home, or talk it back into doing what it wasn’t ready for. So I accepted it, and I chose to love myself regardless, knowing my true-self remained intact and perfect irrespective of whether the little-self drank or not.
I was unable to give myself the time for my sobriety to fully blossom. It felt destined, somehow, that I would re-enter the shark-infested waters just to remind myself I didn’t truly belong there. And to hide too. Yet how comfortable it was, even in the trauma of it. Even amidst the shame and the wildness, the cruel predictability of the downward slide. Even though I’d found so much good in not drinking, I continued to drink. I accepted it, embraced it even. And I blinded myself to the fact I was running. I was running in a way that was so obvious and yet so subtle. Deep down, I knew all along that I could not be in a physical, sacred relationship until I had let go of my safety blanket. After all, how could I be free to give myself to perfect love when I was still holding onto this destructive relationship with alcohol? It was so much more than a path of destruction, though. It was a get-out-clause. A delaying tactic. A smokescreen. I was running for my life. Or at least, my ego was.
Despite this acceptance, I knew I would eventually relinquish my clinging to this illusion of safety. I could sense it, feel it. Something had shifted, and at the start of this year when I moved to a new area, I knew it was time. I’d been running since the moment I met Jed - though I wouldn't have conceded that back then - and it came to me that there was a whole other way of living that I’d never let myself experience. A beautiful island existed – one that I’d made it to before, but I never went deeply into it. I didn’t explore its vast landscape and its potential. I merely drifted on the outskirts. I didn’t reach the place where the fruit ripens or the flowers blossom. I remained on the edge, and then I turned back – out of fear, out of habit.
I had this constant niggle at the back of my mind - let’s say it was the addictive voice talking – and it went like this; ‘You know if you want this whole new life, I can’t come with you where you’re going, and what will happen if you don’t get the things you want over there? What if you don’t get to be with Jed? It could all be a trick, and by the time you realise you won’t have me either. You’ll have left me behind. You’ll have nothing.’ It sounds stupid, but I guess a part of me was literally clinging onto the place where I felt safe and didn’t have to take any risks. I didn’t have to trust. Maybe sometimes I wasn’t drinking that often or that much, but I still knew I could not leave the old island and move to the new one until I let go completely. And this time around, everything fell into place effortlessly. Things aligned with astounding synchronicity to let me know this was always going to be the time I chose a different way, a different island. It was almost as though I’d been preparing over the last four years, since Jed went away physically, gearing up for this huge shift.
Nevertheless, a cyclone of emotions have come up since quitting (I will write about this in greater detail in another post), but even when they were relentless I knew I would not leave sobriety behind. In a sense, it felt like a test. When the cyclone hit, I had to batten down the hatches and stay right where I was. I knew no matter what was coming my way, I would not go back. I felt an underlying sense of joy to be on the new island, even during a storm, because on this island I get to be my true-self. I get to be with myself all of the time.
I realise now that every single time I was under the influence, I abandoned myself. I wasn’t in touch with the present moment or my soul. A part of me was somewhere else. Like a small child wandering off from its parent to go off with some deceptive stranger. Since the little-self was abandoning itself over and over, all the universe could reflect back at me was abandonment. Abandonment has always been my sore point. My trigger. My deepest fear. It seemed for so long that I was the one being abandoned, but of course pieces of me were running away from myself all the time. Running away from love. From truth.
I needed to have my roots dug up from the physical world, because my little-self was tenaciously clinging on. What for? For safety, for survival, to delay the inevitable – a return to God. It is a mystery why the little-self clings to destruction for so long, whether that be an addiction or a relationship or other physical attachments. Maybe it’s because we’ve been so conditioned to put our faith in the physical world, that we have to be truly ready to make the leap into the unseen.
If you have ever come across Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet, I feel that the following passage on love expresses the twin flame connection and its purpose perfectly.
‘For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you.
Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning. Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.'
Truly, it has taken my earthbound self this long to relinquish its grasp on the physical. To stop clinging to an illusion and just choose love. Perfect Love. Sacred Love. Eternal Love. Who could have thought it would take so long to just let go? But in the end, it was all perfect. As we know, it could never be too long or too much or too far, for the timing is always right. We meet ourselves fully only when we are ready to meet ourselves fully. It is written that way.
And so, the little-self doesn’t think ‘not yet, not yet, not yet,’ any more. I am ready to be on the island. I am ready to explore. I am here for myself in every way possible. I am home. There is nothing standing in my way. Before, the light of my soul was trying to shine through a smudged and grimy window. Now the window is clean. All the pieces of me - all the energy, all the soul’s intention - want to stay right here at the centre of it all, in the I Am place. I was perfect before. Every piece was perfect. It’s just that some pieces were too scared to let go of the safety blanket. Like delinquent children, they just needed to run a little while longer before they had fully exhausted themselves.
The simple truth is, I could not put this love first until all of me was home. I can’t be in two places at once without fracturing. I’m either on the old island – the barren, cold and pointless one, or I am on the new island - the one I was always, always destined for. I have put perfect love first, above all things. I am right here, without confliction or divide, and not one piece of me wants to leave this island. Furthermore, I was never waiting for the island to decide it was ready for me to inhabit it. It was waiting for me to decide I was ready to live there. All along, I was the one calling the shots.
Home, freedom, completion – whatever you want to call it - was never an undiscovered island in uncharted territory. It wasn’t a new life calling out to me, but an ancient one. One that had been obscured for a while by blindness and fear, by the delicate timings of destiny and fate. And to find it – to return - I didn’t have to scale any mountains or swim any seas. Literally, all I had to do was stand still.
When love beckons to you, follow him, Though his ways are hard and steep. And when his wings enfold you yield to him, Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he speaks to you believe in him, Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden. For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning. Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth. Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself. He threshes you to make you naked. He sifts you to free you from your husks. He grinds you to whiteness. He kneads you until you are pliant; And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast. All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart. But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure, Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor, Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears. Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself. Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; For love is sufficient unto love. When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, "I am in the heart of God." And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course. Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself. But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully. To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving; To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy; To return home at eventide with gratitude; And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.