Years ago I was at an invite-only event in the Utah mountains. It was full of women, many of whom I had heard of and admired. All seemed to be on a path of self-discovery while also making an effort to make waves in the world. However, the only real common thread I could find between all of us was a certain commitment to authenticity, though that authenticity manifested in many different forms, belief systems and hairdos.
It was interesting to say the least.
It was also life-changing.
There I met a ‘medium’, before I fully subscribed to such concepts, who told me several things I did not particularly want to hear.
I’ve shared some of those things with you before.
But one thing she said to me that I share far less often is her answer to this question:
“What is something that I need to hear right now?”
She thought about it for a moment.
Then with a confident expression on her face said,
“This is not your universe.”
Uhhhhh —
Excuse me?
Did she know who I was?
I was Yan fucking Palmer,
I had left my cages behind. And this absolutely WAS my universe, because I, as an artist, was creating it in real time and I was teaching others around me all the time how to do the same.
SO THERE.
Obviously I said none of this out loud and did my best to appear humble and receptive.
You see, I often do this unbearably contrarian thing where I ask everyone around me very sincerely for advice while at the same time ‘refusing to give my power away’. This means that deep down I know I will not listen to anyone but myself.
But truth is the sword that cuts through all our defences.
Truth will laugh while it meets an unbearable contrarian on her own level.
You can feel it, can't you?
A paradox is coming.
You see, when I heard the medium, I knew she was right.
And I knew she was wrong.
Let’s unpack:
There seems to be certain developmental stages required of soul growth. And they don't always happen in the same order for everyone.
Often, when they happen out of order, life has a way of dealing us a “go back to the beginning of the game board” kind of hand.
I've been sent back to the beginning of the game board too many times to count and every time at a new level of the game. 🌀
I can bet I'll be sent back again and again as long as I keep forgetting that you can't win a game that's already been won.
What is it I’m always trying to win that’s already mine, you ask?
Freedom.
Always freedom.
So anyway.
For me, before I could learn this was not my universe, I had to consciously believe that it was.
Before I could lose myself, I had to consciously name and claim myself.
Before I could/can give myself away — and bear in mind that I have discovered the self is the only real gift we have to give — I’m gonna have to know myself. I mean, REALLY KNOW MYSELF.
But here’s the catch. The knowing is a trap. Every time we arrive at a version of our self we believe is WHO WE ARE — fixed and unchangeable — that's not us at all. That is our ego talking. That's the part of us that wants to remain finite and rigid saying, “I am happy to stay right here, thank you very much. It's cozy, warm with a slight breeze, has all my favorite books, a pretty damn great view and I know just how every story ends.”
The ego puts its foot down because it wants CONTROL. It wants to feel safe. It cannot bear that we are infinite. It cannot bear the constant change and shifting of form that is the price of infinity…
Which is to say, it cannot bear to be free.
So the ego wants a constant self. But the only constant is change.
Goddamn.
Wanna know the worst part? If we try to kill our ego, it just gets bigger.
I know because I've tried. I've tried so many times there is a laugh track symphony made of the seasons of my life. And it now has more episodes than Grey’s Anatomy.
So — what's a girl obsessed with freedom to do???
She makes peace. She plays with identity instead of attaching to it. She realizes she doesn't have to kill her ego; that's what the living is for. She only has to let it die as she transforms. Again. And again. And again.
She only has to listen, allow, surrender and let go. She only has to be as freedom reveals itself through her, bursting forth as the constant song that always changes and always was.
(Sounds like a funeral, but I’ve always planned on my funeral feeling like a party).
And in the mean time, to satiate the monkey brain — she makes lists of what she’s learned about freedom. I'll share that next week. Along with a big, big, big, big reveal.
xx,
Yan
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