We are not given enough time here to accept a life that is less than what we deserve. And we all deserve to live an extraordinary life.
Imagine taking your last breath with the tension of a lifetime of regret; I don't want my final moments here to be tinged with that sort of longing.
There is a heaviness that builds up over time when you ignore the messages you receive about your dharma. (From the gut, intuition, from spirit guides - however you identify with those transmissions, it's all the same - when you feel something deeply, you just know.) And I'm telling you this now, because I've lived it and I don't want you to make that same mistake; I hope it can be a lesson for someone else who needs it.
The weight is manageable, at first; it feels like a duty but also kind of an honour to carry on with that burden. I think we sometimes take on a sort of martyr attitude when we make these concessions to live a life that's not truly in alignment with the heart's purpose, as though we're making this huge sacrifice of self for some greater design. As we keep moving along like this, the weight becomes too much and we must ask ourselves what we can afford to keep and what needs to go. We must also ask ourselves:
For whom (or what) are we really sacrificing our lightness?
Why are we rushing the spirit through the brevity of the human experience?
Why do we give up on ourselves so easily?
Who asked us to be less than we are?
Who convinced us that this is a normal (proper, even) way to live?
And for what purpose?
I learned (am learning) over time how to be close with change. I use this language because there is a friendliness, a warmth and an openness that is required to truly move through change (especially the really difficult types) with grace and love in your heart; you cannot just accept it: you must fully embrace it and actually learn to love it.
When you begin to strip away the fear from uncertainty, you can see with clarity that some limitations and borders have dissolved, allowing you to move in so many different directions. And when this leads you into new territory, there is often a physiological survival response -- the brain searches for familiarity so it can problem-solve its way through whatever you're going through. I don't know how much we can truly train the body to be properly discerning in these moments of stress, and how much is a tempering; a constant practice of moving out of the mind and returning to the heart.
But, I have noticed, over time, that I have softened to change; I'm better now at gently welcoming it in when it turns up unexpectedly, and even inviting it into my life (knowing full well that it could make a huge mess) when I feel I'm veering from my right path. I have so much respect for my life and my time on this planet (*now*, after a lot of work) that I refuse to settle for a low-grade version of this grand experience that was not truly meant for me. I decided, a little while ago, that it was time to level up. Change came, made a big mess, and I'm cleaning house in the most beautiful ways; it's essentially become a full renovation.
I fully believe that you can (and should) be deeply in love with your life. And if you honestly cannot say that you are, perhaps it's time for some change.