The Saturday Post: Welcome to the Dark Side

The Saturday Post, Yoututbe

Welcome to the Dark Side! (a selection of spiritual insights compiled by Jamie Mortinson)

I am terrified of being ordinary, even though mentally I know I am an expression of source and therefore I have no choice other than being the utmost form of extraordinary. This is one of my deepest archetypes; this is one of the greatest setbacks in my growth — the fear of being ordinary. I hadn’t even thought about it in almost ten years. The film, Tuning In-Spirit Channelers in America, ripped this thought up from my core. I experienced body tingles, one of my give-a-ways for truth, and I enjoyed the process thoroughly.

From the very first time I drew a pretty picture and gave it to my mother she always exclaimed how beautiful the drawing was and how talented I was. Not to place blame, her love was and is unyielding, but this was the beginning of the end for my childhood. I saw how happy she was, how proud, and I no longer created for the sake of creation. I created for praise and the payback was the excitement of love, thusly one of my deepest shadows took form. In those early years I had no idea what the shadow self was or what intense work she and I would be doing now.

In my early adult years I secretly called this aspect of myself, “The Dark Side,” after Lord Darth Vader, the wielder of the dark side of the force. My hunger was insatiable, any form of art had to be learned. Anything to show how unique and special I wanted to feel was hunted down and assimilated. My persona became the brooding artist, ridiculously talented but never satisfied. This feverish pursuit continued on and on with the full force of any proper addiction until lockdown was put into place. The dark side was shoved deep down into my lower chakras and all hatches were battened assuming this ship would flounder and be lost forever. I gave it all up, I got a job and I got “real.”

Is wasn’t until I took up the pursuit of this enlightenment business that I once again allowed this fraction of myself to reemerge. Not only did I allow it to rear its moody head, but I did something totally radical: I loved it and invited it home to be part of the collective of me.

There are parts of us that go through events in our lives and they just won’t survive. Those portions of this current incarnation can (and do) die. Other aspects hold on for dear life crying out for the chance to transform, to be taken even if they are shoved down in a hole a fed stale bread from time to time. Because those parts of us, those parts of me, knew that there is a chance that I would wake-up and say “Welcome home friend, I’ve been with you all along.”

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