I’m not interested in a spirituality that makes you less of yourself in order to appear more holy, or mindful, or whatever.
When I went looking for something deeper, I found plenty of that. I became careful. Edited. Holding back. Far too much navel-gazing, looking for meaning or a lesson in everything.
I was copying someone else’s idea of what a peaceful person looks like, and all I managed was to turn a little grey.
Which was bizarre, because I knew exactly what alive felt like.
Kayaking and snowboarding. Running down a steep hill in the mountains with my friends, whooping, relieved I hadn’t gone face first. Completely absorbed, in love with the flow. Full of juice for life.
And afterwards, everything seemed easier. I was more present, more settled in myself, less to prove or hide.
You’ve got your version of that too.
But here’s the problem. That feeling always faded, and I had to go somewhere, do something or drink something to get it back.
I had no way home by myself.
That was the donut: a shiny life with a whopping great hole in the middle. Plenty going on, but something essential missing. Not so much overstimulated as undernourished where it really mattered.
Ascension gave me the way home. Not another thing to get right, or another way of editing myself into someone different.
And the more you come home to yourself, the more alive you become.
Because what’s the point of finding peace if you have to give up half of yourself to get there?
I want to love life, tell bad jokes, have adventures, snigger, make stuff and be fully involved in this messy and glorious business of being human.
And to be present and at peace in the middle of it all.
That’s what I mean by 200%. Not choosing between inner peace and being fully alive. Having both.
It’s the handbrake coming off, not a new set of anchors to drag behind you.