One of the major themes running through my life in the past decade has been how I don’t fit in with my family of origin.
They feel like aliens to me, as I’m sure I might seem to them if only they paused long enough to take a good look at me. Unfortunately, the reality simply is that they don’t see me.
It’s not their fault that their perspective is limited to their experience, but it is true that all I am to my family of origin is a surface for them to project themselves onto, without thought or consideration for my own internal make-up or outlook on life. All they see when they look at me is an extension of themselves.
Growing up, this seemed fine. I had enough to discover about the world and about myself, without having to differentiate my values and beliefs from those of my parents and siblings.
But as I grew, so did my sense of Self — how my heart and spirit interacted with the world… how my choices and actions expressed themselves in physical form.
From seemingly surface-level inclinations to deep-seated ideals, I stood out in ways that I didn’t necessarily wish to. Here are three examples:
- I’ve always enjoyed my own tastes in clothing, hair and accessories. Fashion was only ever relevant to me if somehow it magically fit in with my personal aesthetic.
- Kindness is more important to me than money, blood relations, social hierarchy, or any other stupidity mankind has ever invented. I’m with the Dalai Lama on this one.
- Helping is not the same thing as interfering. I grew up in a culture of nosy people, who are forever having opinions and acting upon things that are none of their business. My motto is “Live and let live.”
Honestly, how hard is that?
For some people, it must be like pulling their own teeth out. They just can’t stand someone setting themselves apart, or being different. Part of “helping” someone then becomes guiding, coercing and forcing them to adjust to a construct that bends the one being “helped” all out of shape.
I’ve experienced this both at the level of my family of origin — parents, siblings, relatives — and at the larger cultural level.
I’m a complicated immigrant.
In my adulthood, I have found members of my Soul Tribe in countries far and wide, but seldom in my own country of birth. I just don’t fit in there.
There is a huge difference between one’s chosen Soul Family, and one’s karmic family of origin. We live in interesting times, when humanity is transitioning, as a soul group, from one era to another. A lot of karmic burdens are being dissolved, worked through and released. Many souls are wrapping up their dense multi-life lessons, and moving into lighter pastures of evolution, right here on Earth.
Disengaging oneself from karmic ties is not an easy thing, though. My mother, for instance, has done me so much harm, that forgiveness becomes a monumental task for me. And how can I release the maternal karmic bonds that still plague me, if I cannot forgive her?
I do not belong in the same world that she belongs in. She believes in lack and limitation, whereas I perceive the abundant generosity of the Uni-Verse as being readily tapped into through faith and trust. This one small difference between my mother and I is just so insidious, that it makes her company practically unbearable to me. Her outlook on life is one of very low vibration.
I see a New Earth of collaborative compassion, planetary citizenship and easily shared resources. A New Earth filled with people who love without fear, who give without taking and who measure wealth by a coin very different from money.
The old world might call me naive, but I stand on the shoulders of God where humanity’s new golden era is concerned.