The part of me that had to transform

There's a version of me that doesn't exist in the same way anymore.

The one who needed external validation to feel worthy. The one who turned down six record deals not because she was honoring her truth, but because she was devoted to proving.

Proving she was good enough. Proving she could do it her way. Proving her father wrong.

That version of me had to be embraced back into wholeness.

Without shame. Without judgement. I loved her back into integration with  . . . me.  

What surprised me was the grief that came from this transformation.

Even though she was exhausting. Even though her strategies never actually worked. Even though she kept me trapped in cycles of striving and never arriving — I missed her. She had been my companion for decades. My identity that I showed to the world.

In a channeled conversation, Lazarus — yes, that Lazarus, the one who was raised from the dead — told me something that stopped me cold:

"You have always acted with devotion because that is your very nature. You are a devotional being. Your object of devotion was what has been shifting."

Read that again.

We are, in our nature, devotional beings. We've always been devoted. The question isn't WHETHER you're devoted — it's WHAT you're devoted to.

That version of me who had to transform- a death, if you will? She was devoted to the wound, not the wisdom. She was devoted to her career, which was all about proving, not being. She was devoted to status, which was living out an old story about her worth that she inherited from people who didn't know how to love her.

Lazarus continued:

"It is a complete betrayal when you devote yourself to that which is a reaction to pain."

A complete betrayal.

Not of someone else. Of yourself. Of your soul's actual purpose. Of what you came here to create and become.

Here's what I want you to know:

The part of you that feels like it's dying right now? It might be the part that needs to be reborn.

Not the real you. Not your essence. Not your gifts.

The protective layer. The coping mechanism. The devotion to something that was never worthy of your energy in the first place.

Lazarus was in the tomb for four days. Dead. Gone. Finished.

And then he wasn't.

The tomb was not the end of his story. It was the part right before the rising.

What if the tomb you're in is actually a womb?

This week, I invite you to ask:

What version of me is ready to be laid to rest?

What have I been devoted to that is actually a reaction to old pain?

And what is waiting to rise once I stop keeping her alive?

With you in the tomb,Shanti

P.S. Next week is Maha Shivratri — the Great Night of Shiva, when the old self dissolves. The Mystic's Cycle of Initiation opens that night. If something in you is already stirring, there's a reason. Details coming soon.