It’s painful to lose a true friend of the Soul. Most of us would choose not to ever lose them. It would be nice if those relationships went on forever, forever inspiring, raising us to be and see our highest, brightest self. But often they don’t, and since it felt so wonderful to be in their presence, it leaves us wondering- what happened? Or worse, What did I do wrong?
Closure is something humans reach for and usually don’t get in the way we want. People may ghost us, disappear entirely, over an interaction we consider minor, or at least resolvable, and the fact that it led to this baffles us. We go over and over this in our head, wondering why, why? The injury revisits us in vulnerable moments. The heart doesn’t have a timeline for loss or grief.
I went into meditation recently over the loss of a friend, many years ago. It has always troubled me how it ended. One day this person just disappeared. Poof. Our friendship for many years, evaporated, and all ties were cut, all lines of connection. When I’d reach out, as I did recently in a nostalgic moment of vulnerability and longing for a true friend relationship (we all have those, don’t we?), it became clear to me that he did not want to be contacted by me. I could feel that he felt betrayed; I could feel the sting of his perception of my betrayal. This wasn’t new to me. Though it still bothered me that, in his mind, I was the source of an injury, which he kept blocking me from healing, correcting.
When I inquired into this, my True Divine Self said that it was his Soul’s path to experience betrayal (I recalled his Venus in Scorpio). But wait, I thought, this was one of the most enlightened souls I’ve met! He happened to be one of the greatest healers I’ve ever known. Then, a list of spiritual teachers were recited — people who were great healers and teachers, who made very human, sometimes awful, mistakes. Everyone has an Ego, a human experience. We all can have soul missions that look very different from our external, worldly role.
Then, I received guidance. “He may or may not still hold feelings about this but you have a choice as to whether to continue to participate. All you have to do is declare that you no longer want to play this part. Embody the light and love you are, that’s all. You were never anything other than light to one another, anyhow. You know this.”
Then a profound wave of love flowed over and through me. Now, there was nowhere for his projections to land. I was and am pure love. I thought of the nursery rhyme “I’m rubber and you’re glue, whatever you say bounces off of me and sticks to you.” Crap can’t stick to you when you own who you truly are (crap only sticks to you when it has a place to land –a niggling self-doubt, shame, questions about your worthiness, etc. But we can change that, too).
That’s the power of free will. Things happen in life that we may not be able to control, fated events where we literally play our part, or role, in another’s healing journey. They can attach all kinds of drama to it (and we can react with our own, if we choose, and keep that karmic wheel turning). We always have the free will to say: “I love myself enough to not continue this.”
Personally, I’d prefer to “opt out” of the wheel of suffering. There are plenty of opportunities to perpetuate pain; like a piece of junk mail or newsletter that I’d no longer like to receive, I choose to hit the unsubscribe. You can get roped into another’s painful story without your permission, and keep it going by adding your pain to it, creating more for your self. Just opt out.
I now understood that the real pain in my heart was not that of missing him, but the pain of believing I’d never feel so fully met, understood, seen, believed in, fulfilled again. I knew I was reaching for this old energy because I’ve been experiencing a series of unfulfilling connections. But this feeling my Soul wants to experience again was created by the resonance we once shared – it was not bequeathed by him personally. Nor was this able to be taken from me.
I may (still) love him, but I love myself more. To me, loving myself more means not reaching out, longing, for a sticky energy that is clearly not “for me”. I love myself enough to not give my light to people who cannot receive it.
If it feels bad, I opt out.
In this Scorpio season, we can easily feel haunted by old betrayals, grief, hurts and wounds. To feel something has been taken away, denied or destroyed, creates pain for the Soul– because we know this is simply not true (ever!). No one can take what is ours. So much of the time, in hurts of the heart, we believe we need to forgive another to move on. Or get to a place where we are so healed that another’s actions don’t affect us. Well that could take… forever.
All we really need is to own our innocence in the drama. When we own our light, forgiveness is unnecessary. We recline back into the easy knowing that we are only light and love. And so are they (even if they have temporarily forgotten). Truly, we deserve to only be with those who expand, uplift, delight and enhance us. And we can love our self enough to act on that knowing.
…for more on love and letting go, read my book Karmic Dates and Momentary Mates: The Astrology of the Fifth House