Dear Sweet, Beautiful Little Darling,
Hello!
Welcome to this world.
You are a ray of sunshine transmitted into a human body—with a human mind and human thoughts and human feelings. Without these forms, this matter of mind and body, you—Little Ray of Light—could not exist on this earth.
So here you are, and your journey begins.
I’m writing this letter to you to help you along your way…let it comfort you in times of darkness and add sparks to your celebration when all is well.
Some important instructions:
There will be pain, Little Love. Sometimes small and dull and fleeting, and, at other times, acute and overwhelming and lingering. Sometimes the pain will hurt so badly that you’ll feel like your insides are on fire, or like you can’t breathe.
Trust that you were born with everything you need inside you to endure. Not just endure, but thrive.
On where to go:
You’ll get lost. You’ll try to find your path, your meaning, your way in this crazy maze we call life. You’ll hang a U-turn or two, go down some dark alleys, experience moments in which you have no idea where your compass is pointed.
Let it all be okay. Breathe through every second of it and let it break you. Let it break you open, so that you return home, to your heart, amidst the shattered rubble.
Let yourself grow through the journey of life, always expanding and opening. Don’t listen to fear when he beckons you to get small, to hide from the world and curl up into yourself.
This one is interesting:
Even though you’ll look in the mirror and see a face and a body and you’ll begin to call yourself by a “Name,” even though you’ll have stories upon stories about who “you” are, what you like and dislike, what you hope for and fear and believe you’re worthy of, don’t get confused, Little Star. You are not those preferences or memories or limitations. You are not your body or even your mind.
You are, always have been, and always will be a magnificent burst of light. You are Love and Truth and Stardust and Magic and Peace and Wisdom. You are a spark of the Divine.
So try to cultivate a life that helps you remember who you really are. Surround yourself with people who reflect your light back to you. Engage in activities and hobbies that help you stay centered and grounded in the truth of who you are. Live by the values of your heart, not your mind. Trust your gut, listen to your intuition, and shine your light so brightly that it illuminates the entire night sky.
At times, you might forget that this is who you really are. You’ll become absorbed in your mind, and you’ll over-identify with your thoughts and feelings, mistakenly believing that you are scared/depressed/unworthy/broken/unlovable.
But don’t worry, Precious One, because you’ll always find your way back home.
Eventually, something will happen. You’ll see a sign or feel something in your gut or maybe you’ll have a dream—something will let you know, always, how to correct your course and return home. To love—to the love that you are.
As for how it all plays out:
Sometimes your life will feel wonderful and exciting. At other times, it will seem mundane and monotonous and rote. And then there will be moments when everything seems to fall apart, and you begin to question and doubt every decision you’ve ever made, every choice that has led you to this moment.
Know that all of those times—the ones you label “good,” the ones you call “bad,” and everything in between—are all divine. Even the pain is divine, Little Star. And you would not have been born into a body on this Earth in this lifetime if you weren’t equipped to handle it all.
And there’s this:
Your heart will break. More than once, if you’re lucky.
Here’s a big one:
You’ll make plans that won’t work out. You’ll do such a great job at mapping out your life and planning every step and degree and relationship and job, and then one morning, you’ll wake up and realize that your plans simply didn’t pan out. That you’re very far away from that place you were trying to get to, from living the life you had intended for yourself. Let it be okay. Let yourself feel angry or afraid or disappointed, and then come home.
Because the truth is—and here’s some painful news, at least to your mind—you are not in control. You never have been. You were born to experience the ride of this life, to be a passenger in the car and to enjoy all of the ups and downs.
You don’t have to worry about steering, about directions, or paying attention to the road or ensuring you don’t hit someone else. All of that is being taken care of. You get to be a witness to it all, and a participant in it all. You get to join in on all the festivities—the singing and the dancing and the crying and the laughing—every bit of it.
So soak it up, Bright Star. Drink it in and bathe in it—all of it. Let it cleanse you, let it heal you, and let it wash everything away.
All of the emotions.
All of the thoughts and stories in your head.
All of the wins and the losses, the coming together and the falling apart, the heartbreakingly exquisite nature of being alive.
You were created to grow, to reach your highest potential. Trust that you are always walking that path. Continue to place one foot in front of the other. To laugh. To risk. To dream.
Shine your light. Ignite this lifetime. Be the Brilliant Glittering Spirit you are.
And when it’s all over—when you’re weary and tired and have taken it all in—trust that I will be here, waiting for you, with open arms.
~
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