Exit Points

Exit points. Or what I like to call “God’s Conference Room”. It has been said, and I do believe, that before we incarnate here on this Earth, we have a sit down with God. We chose our life to a certain extent. We chose our family, our friends, our experiences, our purpose. But when we get here, we forget it all and it is part of our purpose then to figure out what we came here knowing so that we can do what we said that we would. The twist in the plot line is that things like Free Will, either that of others or our own, come into play. Sometimes the plans that we laid for ourselves just don’t come to pass as we planned them to when we met with God. Which is why we build in exit points into our soul contracts.

Exit points are not our planned deaths, and they are not about suicide, although that can be an exit point for some. Exit points are about leaving here so that you may accomplish your purpose from “the other side.” Some people will never need to use their exit points. Yet others need their exit points to either exit completely, or to gain clarity if they are going down a road that can lead to their peril.  There are books and movies dedicated to the stories of those that have passed over, met the big man, and then chose to come back and fulfill their purpose with what they learned from the meeting. Then there are those that chose to go back “home” because they can better fulfill their purpose from the other side sans any physical limitations. Sometimes we don’t completely pass over, such as those that have near death experiences and return as it was the jolt needed to wake them up to how precious life really is.  Maybe they kicked the drug habit, or finally became grateful for who they are and what they have.  Sometimes an exit point that you chose to by pass is where you learn what your true life’s purpose is.  Which can be why you meet those that quit that 9-5 and started that non-profit or business even when others told them they were crazy.  Personally, I haven’t had an exit point come up yet, so I can’t speak on what the experience is like.  I may be naïve to say this then, but to be completely honest, like I always am, if an exit point were to happen to me today, God and I would have a long conversation, and whether or not I continued to live here in physical form would be completely dependent on the outcome of said conversation.

At some point in your spiritual evolution, you come to a point where you just don’t want to do it anymore, but there is no way you can undo all that you have come to learn. The bliss from the ignorance is long gone. You take a look around at all of the hate, and the sadness. The corruption, the greed, and the ignorance and you grow beyond frustrated to a new level of negative vibration that the English language hasn’t even established a word for yet. You love people and hate them at the same time. You watch others harshly judge everyone else and then skirt personal responsibility when they themselves screw up. So you sit here with this knowledge deep in your heart of hearts that you are here at this particular moment in time of humanity to do something. You spend decades trying to figure out what it is, failing the entire time, and then if you are lucky enough to figure it out, you get so excited that you start shouting it from the roof tops.  Then comes the flack. The flack from your family, the flack from your friends, the flack from society, because now you’re different. You look different, you act different, you believe differently than most and all because you are marching to the beat of your own drummer.  You being your own person, which feels so right to you, starts to make people question your sanity because you are not conforming in a conformist society.  Conformists get very uncomfortable around non-conformists and it therefore becomes difficult to stand in your truth, simply because it becomes so daunting.  You are called crazy, a trouble maker, holier than thou, you are on a soapbox, you take things too personal, you are too different.  It’s a burden really to keep defending yourself, your beliefs and sticking up for all of the underdogs. The trick is to lay down your need for approval from others. Lay down your fear of sticking out. But who can do that in a society where we are so conditioned to need approval from everyone for everything? Very few can. So when standing your ground starts to hurt emotionally and an exit point pops up…do you take it?

If today were my exit point, I imagine my conversation with God would go something like this: “What the fuck God?” (And I would say fuck. Because God can handle what-the-fuck.) “I signed up for this?” “Was I under the influence at all when I made these contracts with you?” “Take a look around here. 287 girls missing in Nigeria who were just trying to get an education, taken by a mad man who intends physical harm.” “4 year olds killed by Pitt Bulls and all anyone does is argue over whether or not Pitt Bulls get a bad wrap and point their finger at the grieving mother for turning her head for a minute…as if they haven’t done themselves.” “First graders slaughtered and all anyone can argue over are guns. Guns and the Negro President that is trying to take them away.” “Starving kids and people blame the kids.”  “A corrupt Government and the extinction of the middle class.” “The apparent and continued racism during a time of such innovation.” “The abuse, the neglect, the injustices.” “Just what do you think my human self can even begin to do to stop the suffering here?” “I can’t even get my family to listen to what I have to say, you want me to help save the world?!” “I’m too small and too insignificant and I don’t really care what you say to tell me otherwise.” “My contribution isn’t going to amount to much.”

Besides all of the atrocities of humankind that we intentionally and subconsciously inflict upon one another because we are all emotionally damaged to some capacity, what of the shit on the home front? The mother you believe to be sick and the family that is so in denial that they are willing to become estranged over facing the truth and finding a solution. The family members that are willing to slam you and make you look bad to others rather than accept personal responsibility. The jealousy, the hate, the miss-communications that cost so much of your precious mental space. The cliché mother/daughter paradigm that you just don’t feel like dealing with. The backstabbing from those that are blood. What of the extended family scattered to the four winds because of stubbornness and outright stupidity. The rogue comment from your husband about your weight. The client that fires you. The neighbor that bad mouths you. The friendship that has ended. How about the guilt that you have thinking this way because you have so many blessings that others do not. Enter the feelings of being unworthiness on top of the guilt, the confusion, and the frustration.

This life is daunting if you’re the type to really care about people and things. While it is daunting, it is also beautiful. It’s the tragic beauty of it all. You get wonderment and curiosity, but what you find isn’t always gorgeous. However if God came to me and asked me do I want to stay or do I want to go, I don’t know what I would answer. Over on the other side, everything is beautiful, everything is love. It’s why we come here in the first place, to experience other things that can’t be found over there. We are here to learn how to keep peace in the mist of chaos while walking the fine line of assertiveness. To be loving but not allow ourselves to be bullied. To be compassionate but not allow ourselves to be doormats. It is a fine learned art, but to me it is exhausting. Ghandi got it. Nelson Mendla got it. Mother Theresa got it. I still don’t get it. I get mad – raging mad – at injustice. I hurt physically when I witness someone else hurt physically. I get sad when others are stricken so deeply by depression. I take on these feelings because I am an empath. I immediately put myself into the sick and the poor, and those stricken by injustice and I think “How would I feel?” Which then makes me lash out at others for their lack of compassion.  To me, this makes me both blessed and cursed and sometimes I want a do over. I would like to go back “home”, get my shit together, and then come back smarter. Come back more brave and sans the scars of my past. Or maybe I would just stay. Maybe I can help more from the other side minus my human physical limitations, of which there are many. Whenever I begin to think this way, I think of all that I would miss here on earth; holding my son in my arms. A meaningful hug from my husband. Feeling the earth shake under my horse’s hooves in a full on gallop. The taste of a cold beer on a hot Saturday afternoon. Do these things outweigh being free from anxiety surrounding my distrust of my sister-in-laws? Being free from the constant worry of what others think of me or if I will ever lose the last 15 pounds? If you take all of your love and memories with you, would I do it just to leave my strained mother/daughter relationship here in this lifetime? My guilt of not being as good of a friend as others are to me? To banish for all of time the fear that I have of success? To forever be unshackled from my lack of self-approval? Does beer and hugs trump being free from the confusion and frustration of not being brave enough to figure out how to truly begin my life’s purpose, and the pain of being heckled for it that would ensue if I did? Remains to be seen.

If you came here today to be uplifted, I am sorry to disappoint. Today is about honesty and honesty is usually raw. It’s usually maddening. However, I suspect that there are many like me that are feeling like I am right now. Maybe it’s planetary, maybe it is just the culmination of humanity going mad while deep down we know that it is all unnecessary bullshit. A result of scare tactics that are meant to keep us separate and fighting among one another, like some real life Hunger Games. I suspect that these people like me like to project positivity despite a crumbling home front. I believe that there are those that are trying to make rainbows and moonbeams shoot out of their ass despite the fact that they have a burning hole inside of them that is screaming “unfulfilled”. And I certainly believe that all of these people are or have at times grown frustrated with the constant struggle of having to “faking it until they make it.” If you are these people and what I say resonates with you, I wrote this to tell you that you are not alone. Maybe no one but me is telling you that what you are feeling is normal, and while I may not be the absolute authority on the subject, I know what you are going through. You are too advanced on your spiritual path to turn back now, but you also too green and fear going forward. To these people, I see you. I am you. We will get through this together because right now is the time where we are needed the most. Resilience always gets weaker right before it gets stronger. If you feel like giving up, then welcome. Welcome to the edge of greatness, for the best of us will always want to give up right before something great happens. Let’s just agree to tie an knot at the end of our rope and hang on. Just hang the fuck on.

 

Mrs. Prosceno, mother to a Dillbug, vintage china hoarder.  Imma conscious evolutionist, and I am going to challenge you.
Mrs. Prosceno, mother, vintage china hoarder, equestrian. Imma conscious evolutionist, and I am going to challenge you.

 

Read more on Exit Points:

Exit Point

Exit Points Written Into Our Contracts

Soul Charts and Exit Points

Death Exit Points

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2 thoughts on “Exit Points

  1. […] Couple the above with the political pages that I follow, and I feel most days like I am losing faith in humanity. The Huffington Post articles about mothers abusing their kids. The PSA video that keeps going around with the dramatization of the mother so consumed with talking on her cell phone that she leaves her kid in the hot car. It’s so fucking graphic that it now makes me carry a crowbar and bat in my truck. One to get the kid out, the other to take out the “parent”. Then I get sad. Sad that there are parents so consumed with making a living that they fail to make a life at the expense of their kids. How quiet is that car ride with your kid that you forget that you have a kid? Just as I am sad, I see The Southern Poverty Law Center’s reports on the growing hate groups, and then get scared. Just as I am scared, I see the regular everyday articles about all the rest of the crimes, rape, murder, and pillaging of the hard workers diminishing wages, and how the system continues the crime, rape, murder, and pillaging and I get irate. It’s a roller coaster ride of cortisol and adrenaline, and I’m hooked in a bad way. Any MEME that pops up talking about how great life can be when you live in the moment, or any helpful quote from Gabby Bernstein is cancelled out. This world has real true blue problems. Our food, air, and water is poisoned. Our educational system is sub par. We medicate children’s imaginations away. Sometimes being on Facebook for an hour makes me want an exit point. […]

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