A Conversation
With My Soul
What happens when we listen to our inner
wisdom?
I’m sitting alone on my fluffy red rug, in the office mezzanine that overlooks my beautiful open space living room.
My house is lovely and decorated with expensive pieces. Custom ordered furniture made of old recycled wood from a California railway. An entire wall full of wine bottles, meticulously displayed and ready to quench the thirst during our many house parties. Huge canvas prints of my island home displayed above the elegant but comfortable sofa.
And there is so much light. I love light. It blesses the house, especially the living room, with its vaulting ceiling and two rows of windows that stretch 20 feet into the air.
But on this day, I’m sitting in the dark. The contents of my house look like shadows. Lifeless. I don’t care about what surrounds me anymore.
It can all just burn down.
The anger I feel at this very moment — when my life seems to be falling apart — is tempered by something deep within. I have never felt this way before. It’s like I have a conjoined twin. There’s someone else living within, gently guiding me through this very painful period.
For years, I listened to spiritual teachers talk about connecting to the soul and listening to it. They spoke of bypassing the mind and listening to a deeper part of who you are. But these teachings were only consumed intellectually by my voracious mind. I hadn’t the slightest idea what it felt like to hear my soul and follow its advice. I’d been living life so strongly through the mind that the soul’s language continued elusive.
I run my fingers through the soft rug. But my mind interrupts this sensory bliss.
What am I going to do now?
My marriage is falling apart in a sudden and chaotic way. With it, so too are all my plans for life. All my mental plans, that is.
What am I going to do now?
My mind really wants to start planning again. Yet another plan to replace this failed plan that had replaced another failed plan. But something stops my mind from the brainstorming session. I get it.
All my plans in life have sucked!
I smile at that recognition.
Why have all my plans sucked?
My chest starts to hurt. Something inside of me wants to answer that question and it’s not my mind.
I close my eyes and see a park bench with someone sitting there, waiting for me.
It’s me; my soul.
It has something to show me. There’s something I need to see deep within. I just know it.
I know that if I don’t sit on this bench and listen to what my soul has to say, I will just repeat the same mental planning as before.
If I don’t sit on that bench and listen, I know I will end up in the same painful place again in the future.
So I sit my ass down and listen.
“Your outer world is a reflection of your inner world”.
Wow. My soul’s voice is soothing. Like a gentle and wise friend.
What’s in there that would cause such chaos on the outside?
My soul answers that quite clearly.
Drowning in Worthlessness
Have you ever witnessed someone drowning? When this unfortunate event occurs, the person becomes panicked and afraid. They try to tread water but end up swallowing more.
They desperately look to land while the current pulls them away. And did you know that if you — as a bystander — jump in the water to help, you will most likely drown with the poor idiot you were trying to save? Why?
Because in the panic, consumed by fear, the drowning person will claw at you so hard that both end up at the bottom of the ocean.
Now try to use the image of a drowning person and apply it to your sense of worthlessness.
You see, worthlessness and drowning work in much the same way.
You spend your whole life believing yourself unworthy, not good enough. Drowning in an ocean of self-hate and self-doubt. And so you desperately try to fill this internal void by looking outside of yourself.
You claw at any bystander that shows up in your vicinity. Of course, you are probably unconscious to the fact that this person will end up drowning with you, unaware of how deep and dark your sense of self-hate is.
Yet, you carry on with your life, drowning a little bit more every day. Taking bystanders with you.
Many of these so-called bystanders are people you say you love. They are family, spouses, boyfriends, girlfriends, friends, co-workers.
But my question to you is this:
Can you really say you love them when you are drowning them?
I propose that you have no idea what love really means. Am I being too harsh?
Let’s go back to the image of the drowning person.
Do you think that person, consumed by fear and panic, has the capacity to feel love while desperately trying to stay above water?
Do you think a drowning person can look around and contemplate the magnificence of the ocean they are drowning in?
Do you think they can appreciate the beauty of the innocent bystander who jumps in the water to help them?
Do you think they can see ANY beauty at all in the very moment they are drowning?
The answer to all these questions is no. The only thing a drowning person can see is death, panic, darkness.
And this is exactly how you live your life while drowning in worthlessness.
You cannot possibly have the capacity to feel love. You miss the beauty in people and things. You miss the sweet fragrance of a rose. You miss what a sunset over the ocean looks like.
In essence, you miss life.
So what can be done about this predicament? “How can I save myself from drowning in worthlessness?” you ask.
It is quite simple. Become aware.
For the drowning person, awareness is that moment when consciousness bypasses a panicked brain and reminds them that swimming against the current is a stupid idea.
Awareness tells them to stop fighting and let the current take them out.
If the drowning person becomes aware, they will soon find that they are no longer drowning. They have simply floated away from the rip tide and are now surrounded by the calmness of the ocean.
In this peace and calm, completely out of the current’s grip, the person suddenly realizes they can swim safely to shore. The scary ordeal is over.
For the person drowning in worthlessness, awareness means looking inside oneself and shining light on the soul.
Awareness is understanding the meaning of a bumper sticker that proclaims:
“Don’t always believe what you think.”
You are the watcher of thought.
You are the consciousness that is aware of the endless voices in your head — voices that whisper, “You’re not good enough. You’re worthless.”
To be aware is to see.
See what self-hate is. Look at it long and hard. Shine the light of awareness on the darkness of worthlessness.
As St Paul said,
“Everything exposed by the light becomes visible and everything that is illuminated becomes a light.”
That is it.
Once you become aware of your drowning, the ocean disappears and you will find yourself standing on solid ground. No more fear, no more panic.
And now you will start to see the beauty around you. You will understand the miracles that happen every day — from the fat bumble bee that manages to fly, to the salmon that stubbornly swim upstream in order to spawn.
You are no longer drowning. You can begin to see beauty in people. There is no need to claw at them, no need to drown them with you.
All that is left is space.
And in this space you will feel love for the first time.
Love of self and love of others.
I open my eyes. I’m back in my dark house, sitting on the fluffy rug. But I feel completely different. I now know what it feels like to listen to my soul.
And my life will never be the same again.
This essay was adapted from my newly published memoir, “Over the Edge: How One Woman Learned to Channel the Universe”, 2015.
To learn more about my work, check out:
www.christina-lopes.com
