Disconnected

For a while, I was good at making time to meditate. But it was never as often as the universe wanted, never as long as the universe wanted, and honestly, I allowed myself to get distracted by life. If I’m being honest, I’m sure part of that “distraction” was, in part, due to my subconscious resistance to letting this new expectation for me dictate my life.

And then something happened. Something bad — at least, to me.

I became unable to meditate. Unable to chant — I didn’t know words that I’ve known in my soul my whole life. I could sense energies, but I had this feeling that whatever was emitting those energies was trying to ignore me. I had essentially become… disconnected… from all the gifts that the universe had bestowed upon me.

And I felt lonely, and afraid, and… fucking normal. And I didn’t like it.

After a few months, I talked to Kekoa about it. He knew something had been happening, but didn’t know what to ask and I wasn’t sure that I would have been able to explain even if he had. He was able to tap into his own connection to the universe and very bluntly, through him, they told me that they were giving me what I wanted.

What I wanted.

To be normal.

To be relieved of the “pressures” that they had placed upon me.

If I didn’t want the gifts, I didn’t need to have them. It’s not that they could ever truly take them away from me; I am meant to have these gifts. But the universe was running interference and was making it such that I couldn’t remember and would never remember in this lifetime. I was warned:

If I decide I want my gifts, no bullshit, there’s no turning back. I would be making the decision to actively become. To actively fucking do my job. They hate that I use the word job. So, that I actively fucking do what I have put on this Earth to do. No more hiding.

And if I didn’t want the responsibility, they would take it away from me this lifetime. But next lifetime, I don’t get to walk away from it. And things are going to be so much more fucking difficult.

I cried and soul searched and panicked and then called my mommy.

I wanted my gifts back.

She walked me through a very short chant — two words. I couldn’t possibly fuck that up. And she told me to meditate as much as I could, even if it was only one second. And that was it.

A few days later, she called back. She had apparently talked to my “cousin,” Osman. I haven’t seen him in a long time, and never have I known him in a spiritual capacity, but at some point, as many Thai boys do, he had become a monk and had come into gifts of his own. He gave her some gifts for me, beads and things, and did a reading — my gifts would return to me. But it would take time.

And it did take time and universe made me earn it.

Thank you, universe, for allowing me to reassume my role. I was scared and defiant. But I am here, now. I am present. And willing — still scared and still slow, but moving so much faster than I ever was. I hope that I will be able to do what needs to be done.

Universe, guide me.

Originally written on June 11, 2017.

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