This is a Million Little Us Things
The reason it’s so incredibly excruciating to watch shows like This is Us and A Million Little Things, and the reason we can’t stop watching, all through our yearning and weeping, is because the longer we deny our heart’s desires, the more painful our impending death. It hurts to see the truth of our dreams reflected only in fantasy as our real lives fall so far beneath our best.
The stories these shows tell are certainly not of perfect people. These characters are saying, I am not in love with you anymore, I’m in love with someone else, I have cancer and I’m tired of fighting, or I need help, and all the million other little (and big) things that are so hard for us to say. These dramatis personae are coming clean or getting caught, fighting, forgiving, overcoming social anxiety, and healing (themselves and, by proxy, the world.)
I am a writer, a reader, and a watcher. We all are. The writing is the art and we’re each an artist of some medium. The reading: the different ways we learn and understand the world around us. And when we watch, yes, we may be entertained, but also, we perceive… through whatever lens we’ve selected for that day or lifetime.
Our schooling and upbringing colors those optics and determines whether our visions are clear or clouded with debris like fear and pain so that we’re no longer able to see ourselves reflected in the very next person, regardless of appearances and portrayals, and realize each of us essentially wants the same thing(s) and are all incarnations (representations) of the same great Good. The lens shapes our capacity to remember what we want, what we deserve by divine right, and what our loved ones, also want (when they, too, are brave and honest) and deserve (by way of Oneness) from us: the truth of our heart’s desire.
The writer, the artist, is able to create her subjectively perfect world. Isn’t it curious then that we don’t typically fill them with perfect people, but brave ones? They are us, only better. Because they tell the hilarious, sexy, and sometimes heartbreaking truth of their insane lives and desires. Or the truth has told itself for them, as it always eventually does when we forget we’re divine creators; when we fail to be our bravest and best Selves.
A collective awakening is taking place in this magical Age of Aquarius that is ruled by the Twin Flame/ ascended soul. This growth, like all, comes with challenges. Some aspects of the whole are more stubborn. The strong and powerful human ego, as one example, after fortification of a thousand centuries’ lies, misunderstandings, and bullshit, is transforming, but not without waging a spectacular war.
The challenge at hand is to encourage each other, not by telling, but by showing; by being living examples, to be brave, to forgive, to love, to serve, and to honor. There are a million little (and big) things that each of us needs to gift this Earth in order to heal her. But thankfully, no one of us shoulders the entirety of that task. We need only to start with one; to tell our truths and go from there, to follow those verities all the way to victory.
We’ll know the path by our pain. Our pains are the physical manifestations of the disconnect between what we have settled for and what we truly want; what we know is “right,” even if only for us. When we feel such, we’ve either veered astray or are mid-battle with a valuable lesson, the fight awarding the opportunity to become both better warrior and lover. But if we’re brave, as an army of 1 or 1 million, if we fight through the pain and push toward the light, we surely reach our destination and, suddenly, everything falls into place, like art; like a well-told story.
The part of us who thinks, “I’d love to write for a show like that one day,” is finally yielding to the part who says, “I created that amazing show people can’t stop watching.” The piece who used to say, “Sure, I’ll take that which you give me,” is now proclaiming, “No, thanks. I’ll have (because I’ll create) exactly that which I desire.” We’re choosing our higher Selves, our Gods, over the perceived expectations of the societies we created with our egos, pain, (mostly good) intentions, and lies.
We’re seeing the limitations of our long-used tools, the shortcomings of our traditional techniques, and the flawed premises of the stories we’ve written thus far. But also, we’re realizing how far we’ve come. We’re embracing growth and change. We’re intentionally learning more about the things we’re drawn to and connecting them to our divine gifts and talents. And we’re writing new stories, ones where we tell our ugly truths and we’re better for it in the end.