Your Soul Has Something To Tell You
My soul, sometimes it aches. Actually it aches a lot. It aches in desperation to be heard, to be seen, to be acknowledged—if by no one other than myself. It wants me to move, to grow, to sing out loud. It wants me to care nothing about what they think and only about how I feel—in my depths, in the only place it matters. My soul asks for my loyalty. It asks for my devotion day and night.
Sometimes I get tired. Sometimes I long for complacency, for a devotion to nothing more than a life of cultural “normalcy.” It’s not in the cards for me, my soul assures me. And I know it’s true because in those moments of trying to be what everyone else seems to be happy being, I find myself unhappy. It seems to make me feel like I’m not being me. And so I’ve learned to accept that it’s not for me to be quiet. It’s not for me to be thoughtless. It’s not for me to be sitting still for this lifetime. It’s also not for me to judge the paths of others or push them to be on this thorny road. No, this journey is for me to discover, for me to uncover, for me to bear alone.
Your own soul has something to tell you. It may be keeping you up at night without your knowledge.
IT'S VOICE MAY HAVE BECOME SO UNFAMILIAR YOU'VE MISTAKEN IT FOR SILENCE.
You may be wondering how you know if your soul is speaking to you. My answer to you is that you’ll know. There will be no mistaking it. Your soul is the place on fire deep within you. It shoots stars at you when it’s joyful. It speaks clearly and with conviction. It moves with no hesitation.
This isn’t to say it always feels good to move at a soul level. Sometimes I feel so deeply that I’m unclear whether it’s joy or pain. But it’s a feeling that needs to be felt. It feels necessary. And maybe for no other reason than that I need to feel it. Or maybe for some other reason my mind can’t process with the limited lens through which I currently see. I just know that there’s something right about it. And sometimes it seems like the only right thing in my life.
There are times when I am afraid. In those times I sit quietly, let the fears of my mind fade to the background, and allow the deeper truth to reveal itself. This truth tells me that there is something much bigger that wants to come out of me. There is a voice that needs to be heard; there is a person (or a few) who need to hear me; there is an expression that needs to emerge. That need is far greater than the comfort of my illusioned safety. It sits always as a choice. A choice between my truth and my safety. My safety, in truth, is never at risk because I am safe always within my own truth. Our greatest fears are paths to our greatest truths. Our greatest truths are our greatest contributions to the world. And if there’s anything this world needs more of it’s truth and love. And those are the only things my soul is interested in: expressing my truth and my love.