Burn the Box.

There is this box we are born into. It comes with complimentary expectations, roles, responsibilities, beliefs, and wonder to set you up for life. Over time this box is filled with many things making it so snug, you yourself have forgotten how to be comfortable, passively waiting for what might come next. Until one day a thought strikes you and you wonder do you even want this box? Like this box? How did this box get so tight and full? And you start to suffocate. You begin to dream up a life outside this box.

The thing is though because your box offered you such comfort and the opportunity to hold more, you allowed all the things in. Year upon year, you added to its contents, creating a passive space that held the good, the bad, the helpful and unhelpful, the healthy and unhealthy. It wasn’t all constraining, just some of it. Most of it. So as you continued to fill your box, you opened it up to contain all the things you believed were required of you; in it went your hardships and accompanying lessons learned and limiting beliefs formed; the lies you told yourself forming your truth. Add to it obligations, other people’s expectations, and a historical record kept beautifully intact so you can fit into rooms of matching boxes throughout your life. 

Let’s call this the art of you keeping up the facade, feeding the ego, the act of masking… mostly we wanted the box, to stay ‘safe’ and so for a time you were willing to keep the box perfected, remaining stagnant continuing to be someone you’re not, staying snug in this little box thinking here you are wholly and fully loved, known and accepted – just as you are. Stuck. In. A. Damn. Box.

The thing is though, at some point the box opened. Either through awareness or through trauma, or one day you simply became curious. And suddenly you realised you have been jamming that box for a lifetime and as the light pours in illuminating it for all to see, the chaos concertina’s out. You’re rapidly trying to shove it all back in, in the vein hope no-one else is witnessing a cataclysmic shift and the sudden freedom you didn’t know you so desperately needed. The hot mess of this moment. This is the paradox of the box. It’s there to be filled, and yet be unwrapped, unpacked and… well, burned.

I chose time and time again to just simply get back in my box. Repair after repair, and hope for the best. And others edified this motion. Creating reminders of the boundaries to remain within. Maintain the status quo. Be the good girl. Do the “right” thing(s). Be the same as everyone else around you. Keep up the illusion. Don’t rock the boat. Use your wisdom. Stay in your lane. Get back in your box. Ignore your needs and only meet others. You’re too much, you’ve over stepped, you’re going rogue. Again. Get back in the box. Stay in the box. Don’t. Ever. Leave. The. Box. 

Except that rebellious tug kept grabbing the scruffy edges and before long, a golden beam of light entered in. Then another. I nodded and smiled, repaired the holes, and allowed the loud voices around me to assure the box was best. Over time I forgot the beams of light I felt alive with and convinced myself too perhaps this box was somehow my home. My container for existence. My whole being. My identity. 

We learn over time when we operate within the means and safety of our boxes, everything should be and will be somehow alright. We will be known and loved because our box fits. Except for the fact that this box of mine was in perpetual need of repair, so I resealed it multiple times, shut myself down, masking to appease the audiences. I guess though the facade simply could no longer hold all of me in. The repairs did not hold – nor did I want them to. My sense of containment and control now fully unleashed as the box tore wide open, unable to be the container everyone else so desperately needed my box to be. The abraded fury, the depths of pain, the beauty of it all. 

I thought perhaps this was a meltdown, I’ve been here before. Take some time, try an alternative repair option and maybe it’ll be okay. Oh… but no… as the box tore more and more, a raw and swift move broke my box wide open, destroying it entirely and simultaneously my world tore apart birthing a realisation… this is no breakdown, this indeed is me waking up. Awakening from a slumber I had no idea I was in. Here I was, freely giving out invitations to jump into my box – petrified of what it might mean to lose my box all together. Tenderly hoping those treasured fractals and gifts given from the deepest of caverns would be held with tender care. Only to be met with questions of where my box is and my precious particles thrown about or away, carelessly. Simply because they can’t meet me where I want to be met. 

Places they cannot go. 

In the deepest darkness. 

Where the light floods through. 

So in my new wholeness I jumped from my box and I dove deep. Deeper than I have ever gone before. I met my rich inner world – that beautiful soul place where nothing else exists. Reveling in the secret and sacred spaces where my Inner Knowing swam freely in the deepest of oceans. Wooing my heart and whispering truths I had turned my ears away from in another lifetime. 

I know this now, I cannot be contained.

I swam deeper and deeper, for the longest of times and learned from the abyss of the midnight zone. My wounds tended to, my heart softened, a true picture reflected pools of abounding and unending joy. Harmony restored. The shame cycle, dismantled. Unearthing ancestral wounding. Connected with my Higher Self and wholly trusting the process of fluidity, leaning into flow. Embracing a new world I had always felt pulled toward. Floating, floundering, finding. Being curious and being open. Being okay to no longer give a definition. Living in a state of exploration and wonder. A new awe arrived. I felt alive within the depths and new realms of possibility.

For now, I am marveling within these deep caverns and I am in no rush to rise yet to the surface. It will be lengthy, and slowed, and glorious. You will know though, when I reach the surface, that first breath will be as though it was the first. And from a distance you will see a blazing horizon, where the boxes are burning along with all the things that kept us contained. I won’t be alone. I’m discovering others in the depths of my awakening. 

From these ashes of our collective purge there will be delicate blooms forming around these Souls. As She rises in Her new form, She will be interwoven with vines of strength, Her pillars will radiate beauty and in all She sees and touches will overflow a quiet confidence – one you won’t want to fuck with. 

This I know, I will step out, transformed and renewed, without care of those who liked my box and wanted me to stay within… I tell you this because my dear, you too need to be reminded of who you are. You are more than your box. In fact you possess all you need within yourself – in all those gloriously gorgeous and deep caverns. Step out, dive into the depths and trust the overflow will find your Soul fulfilled with the purest form of love. 

The love you now have for yourself. 

Then go burn the fucking box.

xox

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