…because its literally chock-full of jewels. And to do so is to betray that part of yourself that gathered the story to you, that went through everything to get here, putting together this vast composite of experience; and this only leads to more fragmentation, not wholeness.

It’s such a spiritual cliché to say you must ditch your story, just drop it by the roadside and pretend it has nothing to do with you (and there can be so much tutting behind hands when you admit to having a story to tell), but that was then and this is now. In the ninth wave, we incorporate the resonant bits of our story into an amalgam of “story” and “no story”. Without hanging all that judgment around its poor neck, we find our story is literally full of riches for us to pounce upon when we do this. Synchroncities continue to work for us across all the strands of our life’s experiences so why would we want to erase them and be left with a blank slate; what would be the point of that (and points are something I’ve spoken about such a lot lately)?

When we get to the point, we bring ourselves into wholeness, the two hemispherical sides of ourselves merging to become one…and that includes all those aspects of our story that we decide to hold in there, in a sort of suspension between form and non-form (no, not oft repeated like a mantra until they crystallise and become non-negotiable “fact”, but…) so we can dip our brushes into their colours and find all-new meaning waiting for us when surprising aspects of different parts of our many stories suddenly line up.

Like a kaleidoscope creates a new pattern every time we shake it, when we operate from the void of all creation, new patterns emerge in every moment and, from them, we derive meaning and insight. The story we have chosen to preserve about ourselves includes bits and pieces of all those preferences we have expressed across the years…books and films we dived into, nuggets of things that attracted our attention, places we travelled, small details, conversations, hardships that helped make us who we now realise we are, personal traits that bobbed up time and time again until we knew they were important…all held waiting for us to thread onto a new strand of understanding at some unforeseen moment in the future, only to fall off the thread and be recycled for another day just as quickly (nothing need be turned to concrete anymore and our story is retained as a much more fluid thing than we remember it ever being before).

The thread that holds them there is us; the awareness in form that has been the lifelong kleptomaniac of “things” by way of gathering experiences that we have squirreled away for such a rainy day…only, sometimes, rainy days are the very best. They are the ones when we get to tip out all the intriguing boxes and play freely with whatever we can use to hold our attention and, from them, some of our best and most surprising creations yet can emerge. And so we create our next layers of meaning, across many lifetimes’ “stories”, and we get to birth something infinitely new from them, which is the spiral tail of our own evolution. This is the master playing with being consciousness in form…not throwing anything out because it is out of favour this year (that is so old-style yang!) but incorporating it all as useful (hello yin!) to become the best of both as one.

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