I was recently asked (by the Universe) to help a person who didn’t want to be helped.
After an hour or two of attempted assisting, when sweet talk and sympathy didn’t work, I resorted to a raised voice. I’m okay with cajoling and listening, but not raising my voice to manipulate someone into compliance. Even when, as in this case, it was for their own well-being.
Raising my voice feels foreign, like I’ve shifted into another body just adjacent to my own, morphed into a primitive version of self that I have in fact outgrown perhaps by many lifetimes.
But clearly, this primitive persona was just waiting to come back for one last great unleashing.
After a few weeks of this scenario playing out every day, I came to realize that the short-tempered persona I had unleashed, purportedly to aid another person, was causing me great grief. I finally concluded that as a matter of self-preservation, I had to change my approach.
I would, in fact, put myself first. Which I now realize is my version of sovereignty. My personal sovereignty depends upon knowing what is for my own highest and best good, focusing on myself and taking care of myself.
As anyone who is the mainstay of their family knows, at times that seems nearly impossible. But amazingly, once I made the commitment to take care of myself first by refusing to engage in unnecessary drama, the trouble area sorted itself out quite quickly.
It seems every other channeling reminds us that we’re here to work out the last of our personality kinks, drop the baggage of our discomfort, before we make our way to 5D.
We can’t hang onto luggage filled with leaden, unfinished karma, old wounds and old ways of being that we’re meant to process and dissolve once and for all.
The bad habit of seldom putting myself first is fast becoming a faded scar on my psyche. It has been soothed by the gold wash of my sovereign self, which knows how to take care of Numero Uno. And offer no apology for doing so.