The Painful Beauty of Failure

The Painful Beauty of Failure

Failure. How many times have we felt like a failure?

There it is again, someone crosses our path and instead of seeing beauty and love we see everything we are not. Everything we have failed to be. Failure to be a Daughter and a Mother. Failure in being a lover and an intimate other.

A failure in manifesting financial abundance, and a failure in manifesting dreams.

A failure in school, at work and at play.

A failure in eating the right foods, maintaining a healthy body weight, wearing the right clothes.

A failure to honour our sacred temple and respect our boundaries. A failure to use our voices and exert our innate power. A failure in owning the wild, powerful, instinctual, sexual self.

Quite simply a failure!

Always comparing self to others, always measuring who we are against who we perceive others to be.

We have become so accustomed to living in this cage of projected bullshit, this bubble of illusion we sadly call home, call normal, call just another day in our sad little lives. So we wallow and feed it energy.

I mean that’s what we’ve always done, right? This is my life, my lot, destined to be like this until the day I die. A failure.

Years, decades, lifetimes of conditioning, of suppressing, that we no longer know the truth of who we are. There are too many mirrors, constantly reminding us to stay small. Look at her, don’t bother, she’s everything you’re not and never will be. And all the time our energy is being drained, our very life force is at stake, withering away what little light we had left.

So let’s swing it around, let’s use the mirror, let’s see what the mirror really has to say. Go on I dare you, take a good look.

See your face, that’s yours and it’s unique. See those eyes, yes those eyes, they are the windows to your soul. Now look deeper into those beautiful eyes, see the pain of the failed self. Who is she, what does she have to say?

She’s strong and resilient, resourceful and defiant. She got up every time she failed. She learnt something new every time she failed. And in her failure and her tears and her hopelessness, she grew and blossomed. She learnt how to die with each failure and in doing so evolved and gave birth to a new era, a new chapter of her life. She became all that she is today, a living, breathing, divine being who knows how to look herself in the eye and say….well yeah! I’m here and thriving, and thank you!

Thank you for all the lessons you taught me failure!

The skills you gave me. The magic you weaved through every part of me. The trust you rooted deep down within me. The gifts, the love, the compassion you awakened within me. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

I love my crazy and chaotic failed self, I own her, she is a part of me. She is the other half of my successful counterpart. Each in balance, each in love, each holding the other in divine union making sure the ego does not have free reign on one over the other. Each bringing harmony, joy and manifestation to my inner word.

And through these eyes, of peace and calm waters, I see the illusion of failures and successes of all life around me fade beyond the ethers.

For there are no failures, nor successes, only words loaded with meaning and connotations. Words we have been forced to live our lives by. I no longer see the success in others as failures on my part. I no longer see the failures of those around me, with triumphant sniggers from my successful self. I see, through the windows of my soul another wound, another pattern healed and transformed.

With love,

Nicola x

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