Have you noticed at least once in your lifetime the similarities that you hold with your parents? Your grandparents?
Do you feel the subtle differences, yet also stare them in the eyes as if looking in a mirror?
And at times this can be difficult to do because of the reflection you can see.
Because, let’s face it : we either want to be just like them or to be the opposite of them.
It is hard not to recognize that we are the product of who we surround ourself with. Whether then or now.
We are the product of the nurture that was given to us at a young age, and into adulthood. We continue to be that product, for better or for worse, until we choose not to be.
Until we take the route of stepping into ourselves in the most authentic way possible. To fold in, to accept, to allow, and to expand.
I deeply feel the self that I am.
I have analyzed and reviewed and gone deeper and explored.
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I am my mother’s mother.
I am covered by blankets of fear in moments that are unfamiliar to me. In moments I can’t control. I am shackled by the thought of war that took my family and held me hostage in my own home. I am simple, yet finding myself complicated within my soul because of what I’ve experienced. I want family around and nothing else at times.
I am my father’s father.
I am bold and stark and demand my influence. I dream up some of the most intricate of things that can be done in this life. I buckle at the thought of my own self recognition - yet I charge forward for those I love. I hold true to my words and keep order in the face of any chaos. I am settled in my heart yet roaring uncontrollably in my belly. I am the creator. I am the family’s holder.
I am my mother.
I am stifled by the idea that there can be hurt in this world. That there is anything else but trust on the headlines and in our words. I rise above any tough news and continue on living - because that’s what feels right. I imagine. I create. And I love. Oh goodness, do I love.
I am my father.
I am stern yet absolutely soft at heart. Begging to uphold the strength of my father, yet weak at the knees to be able to help anyone who is in need - especially my own blood. Wanting to keep the peace, but finding myself in situations where it just isn’t possible like it used to be. Reflective. Expansive. And driven beyond all means to make magic happen.
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When I feel into the spaces of the people before them, I sense greatness but I also feel their suffering.
The lineage behind me shows strength, honour, survival, peace, and understanding. And there is no denying what lies within my veins.
There is no denying that the words my great grandparents spoke don’t sit in my bones today, passed down by my father’ father’s mother. Or my mother’s mother’s mother.
They are within. They are in the heart that beats in my chest.
And when we begin to fold in and expand the self that we are, we begin to feel them. Their frustrations, their road blocks, their confidences, and their triumphs.
Sometimes (unfortunately) living a path of the inevitable carousel. Around and around and around.
Until one generation, one bloodline, one individual says.. no. Until that individual says I am going to help you heal what was done to you. What you experienced. What you held so dear in fear that it is now held in me.
I am going to let it go for you and for me. And I am going to shine in that process.
—
I am the living proof of my ancestors before me, and their’s before them.
We are living proof of their living.
We are not meant to be living proof of their suffering.
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EXERCISE
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