On why we came to Earth
I’m 45 years old. All my life I’ve heard about atrocities that humans have committed. I’ve heard it on the news. I’ve read it in books. I’ve listened to my friends, family, students, and clients talk about the violence they’ve experienced. I feel lucky that in this life I’ve only felt a minor fraction of the pain I’ve heard about.
The memory of these stories brings me to tears. I feel these stories each time I look at my kid’s innocent face. The feeling is visceral. It’s horrendous. It pisses me off.
I feel this way because the memory is also in my bones. It’s in my DNA. My soul remembers. It doesn’t need to be reminded by the droning talking heads that “civilized” humanity deems important.
The Universe shows me the stories I need to hear to keep me going and learning. Because I must keep going and learning. I need to remember these stories because they help me do my work.
I know in my heart I’m here to help people remember why they came to Earth at this time.
We can’t heal this atrocious world when we’re in pain. We can’t help each other when our hearts are bleeding.
And so I heal my bleeding heart so I can support you in healing yours.
“Healing also means taking responsibility for the role you play in your own suffering.” - Anonymous
At 45 years old, these stories fuel my hope. They’re why I’ll work as hard as I can to help you remember the heart and soul that’s under those layers of dust and confusion. I'm here to help you remember why you're here.
The world needs you. May your stories fuel your healing.
