It's You Looking in the Mirror: An Ancestral Message on Abandonment

It’s the anniversary week of my grandmother’s death. I’ve been experiencing dream trips, symptoms of physical sickness, and a lot of emotional upheaval. Coinciding with this time, I’ve been in a conflict that’s opened the door to an avalanche of lack of integrity within my own character. The core of it is a fear of abandonment. At it’s worst possession of and persistence in my life, it caused severely disordered thought. At it’s best, it kept me from harm. I’ve caused damage by not making sure that the line between when its effective and when it’s not is clear. I know I’m not alone in this. Today, I sat down to receive a message from my grammie and my other guides. They asked me to share it:

So, let’s talk about the fact that you act like you’re disposable and that hurts other people deeply.

If you’re disposable, so are they technically. Don’t you treat people like you treat yourself? So if you don’t know in your heart that you were always irreplaceable, how can you extend yourself, arms laden with validation, which is the fruit of that region? That soft country where it is law that everyone who lands there matters?

You can’t represent a country you aren’t born in. But lucky you, blessed you, powerful you. You asked us for these deaths because you knew. If you believe yourself so unworthy, then create the gentle spiritual death for her that only you can give, and crawl into a new life. One in the mind where you are so worthy, so loved, and more than capable of slowing down enough to love others well and fiercely. So capable that even when you fail or fall, it’s to such a highly nuanced degree that the weight of it could not impede the flight of your heart.

You messed up. You only continue to do so when you act out the fear of abandonment. Your favorite solo show that everyone hates to see you in. Cause you can’t play when you perform it.

You have to restructure what supports this belief to let it go.

Conditioning is required since conditioning is what brought you to this resource wreckage of a half truth.

You have no choice. Not if you’re a persyn of integrity.

You made up a story. A story that you were trash. Harmful. Disposable. You made up that story. No one co-authors the lies you tell yourself when you’re alone. When all the people who spoke them to you in the first place aren’t even around anymore.

Don’t do this. There’s already too many generations of this nonsense. This out of body nonsense.

To fail others, you really had to have failed yourself first. Like anger as a secondary emotion that rapidly dashes in after hurt, if you slow down enough for yourself, you’ll see that this is a chain reaction with a starting point.

You’re so very careful, my love, not to let energies or people in that harm you. Don’t you know that the call is coming from inside the house? That the spirits who love you have always been watching over you so you’ve never truly been abandoned? Even when I couldn’t protect you—though we would shelter you from every harm if we could. Neither life nor death can stand in harm’s wave, but we stood with you in it’s wake.

Commarrah, stand with yourself.

Commarrah Bashar