“So, I was sitting there in the closet–he was beside me–and I had this little night light? It shone stars on the wall and I told him to watch it,” she’s all ears, “and I say, ‘Just look.’ And suddenly he says, ‘Is this what you’ve been trying to show me all this time?’ I look back over my left shoulder smiling, ‘Yes,’ I say, excited that he finally sees. He finally understands.”
I shift my position, “So, a little bit later I say, ‘Oh my god, I finally found you. I didn’t even know I was looking for you, but all this time, I’ve been looking for you,’–and this is where I laugh, ‘I finally found you!’ And I say this because I saw it. I saw it in my mind. That we were once one soul and we decided to play a little game with each other by splitting ourselves in half and coming to play on earth, like a little game of hide and seek. At the time I understood it as Shakti and Shiva, and I just knew he was my Shiva, the one to whom I’d been praying all my life, and I was his Shakti. For real, later I found out there’s an actual term for this understanding or ‘belief system’. It’s called, ‘Twin Flames.’ But I’d no idea that was a thing at the time. So when I heard about Twin Flames and looked it up, my jaw dropped, because that was what I was shown.”
And then came more visions, dreams, phrases, synchronicities… The closer we were drawn to one another, the more we triggered growth and healing. The more we try to abstain from one another, the less likely we are to succeed at it. It’s almost like we’ve become accustomed to knowing that as hard as we try to rid ourselves of one another, you can’t really successfully lose your own soul. You just can’t. Because Life will always insist that the both of you belong together, with every stride you think you take away from your twin, you always end up three strides closer in the long run.
There is no logical reason. I have to just surrender to all this frustrating nausea that happens to be the circumstances in which I dwell. But, see, it’s only ever nausea when I bring attachment to the mix. It’s only ever nausea when I try to put rules on it. It’s only ever nausea when I try to control it.
He moved across the damn world, with me encouraging and supporting every single step, for him to race right back into my home. I love him with every single part of me, but I love him with strings. And, apparently, that’s my lesson.
Loving you without strings. Being present. Appreciating every single kiss that’s behind closed doors, every whisper, and every caress. Trusting that we knew what we were doing when we split ourselves. What did we honestly expect to happen when “splitting” was the precedent? Good grief.