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To Cross Over

December 12, 2013

I got to thinking the other day. Okay, I lied, it was just now – already I am attempting to distance myself from the emotion, from the pain.

I got to thinking about guilt.

Guilt has followed me from what seems like birth. My childhood years were consumed by massive responsibilities and when I failed to meet these massive responsibilities I felt guilt. All consuming guilt. To be consumed by something, anything, for forty years is tiring to say the least. I am exhausted from pressure. Pressure I have applied upon myself. Who was it that dictated to me a life in servitude to guilt? At what point in my life did I forget about free will?

I want to cross over.

I want to make that jump. I want to run a red light without paying the fine. I want to leap into the future I always knew was there, lurking behind the shadows, hiding in the moonlight and praying for me to point the flashlight in the right direction. Finally! In the right fucking direction!

Life can seem to be nothing but black holes and invisible force fields, keeping us away from our heart’s desire. Life often hides from us and plays bad tricks on good days. It seems like, oftentimes, that life is something that happens to other people.

Hold on a minute.

Did God say to me upon my birth: ‘You must spend this entire lifetime in servitude to me and this must mean that you suffer’? No, She didn’t. I did. I made a contract with myself – at some level – that set out the terms of my life:

  1. You must feel great pain and never heal
  2. You will serve others before yourself
  3. This servitude is your punishment

Now take a look at these three rules and see where they apply to you. At some point in your life you will have made this contract with yourself.

Now – let’s turn it on its head:

  1. You will serve others and enjoy it
  2. Your suffering will happen as with all human beings
  3. You will get over it – because everyone does.

It is time for us all to cross over. It is time to turn the guilt into joyful service, pain into compost (see How Do We Reach the People Who Need Our Help?) and responsibility into freedom. It’s time to cross over.

Oh, and by the way, I noticed just now, as I wondered about crossing over, when I questioned if I dare to jump over from this black concrete onto the wet grass – that the gate had always been open.

No jumping required. Walk with me baby, walk with me!

Matt xx

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