Your Cosmic Reinvention
Don’t be afraid when your life comes to a halt.
What if you are NOT stuck? What if you are neither stalled nor frozen? What if the delay and the (extremely!) frustrating dead end you THINK you have arrived at is actually nothing of the sort?
Life is a treadmill for many. But not for you. Your treadmill is how you work out whether you are flowing—or not. And not is never the correct answer. Because the ability to get up, get moving, get flowing, and CREATE—is life itself for you.
To be “a creative” individual is to be what everybody else is—turned up a notch. And this does not suggest that you or anyone else is better or above the rest.
But if your life rests on the passion of every new dawn and the hope and excitement of discovering something different with each new day, then you are on the crest. You are riding the crest of the powerful wave of creation itself. And the penalty, if you can even call it that, is that, by nature, you are more sensitive to the nuances in the field.
What feels like utter stagnation—being stuck in the muck—is a misinterpretation of a subtle situation. In other words, there are no roadblocks for you. If you are a writer, for example, there is no such thing as “writer’s block.” That uncomfortable feeling that has overrun your senses, the perception that your VERY PURPOSE has reached its end, is an illusion.
It’s like being stuck in a traffic jam. Everything was blurry when you were driving at an electrified pace, but then it shuddered to a halt. The passing signs, the cars switching lanes, and the exits whipping by—have become petrified. The motion picture has become a still. And it happened so quickly and unplanned that you are terrified by the details that have materialized out of nowhere. The other drivers… trapped in their cars. The cracked and rusted guard rails. The dust and clutter of your own interior. It’s a fate worse than death. I hope you’re laughing.
Because here’s the truth:
The truth is you are ALWAYS in motion.
Every fiber of your being is quivering, buzzing, and percolating. If you zoomed down to your tiniest parts, you’d find a lot of space and a whole lot of locomotion. You are never static. Always evolving.
And the cosmos—the stuff that forever gives birth to you—is reconfiguring. The cosmic field is reinventing the very purpose that you are terrified you have lost.
In a sense, you’ve graduated. You have auspiciously accomplished what lies behind you. And now you are ready for something more refined. Your subtle essence is morphing into something even more elegant.
Because it has to.
Because what lies ahead?—requires a more discerning version of you.
What should you do? How do you cope? Be patient. Slow down. Do something, even if it’s not much of anything. And wait for the signs. There will be more than one. And they will coalesce. Stay true to yourself. And stay connected to the very Force that guides you, always.
And cautiously and gratefully accept your cosmic reinvention.