For accessibility and ease, you can listen to this post narrated by Mike:
I was an exuberant child.
Animated, excited, alive.
I knocked more than a few glasses off the dinner table as I excitedly swung my arms around to not just talk about, but show, my day.
I was “too much” in every way. Too excited, too passionate, too loud, too energetic, too imaginative, too curious, too inquisitive.
I spent afternoons online obsessively researching the Roman Emperors or how to read Egyptian Hieroglyphics. I wrote a screenplay about what led a beautiful, wealthy young woman to commit suicide. I wrote a novel about social class, popularity, and self-discovery.
There was no part of life that wasn’t alive for me—not even death. And I wanted to explore all of it. I wanted to be a part of all of it. I wanted to express myself.
I was a visionary. With a vision, a thirst for life that was exhilarating.
And then life happened. I grew up. And I learned the rules that maybe spending an afternoon researching witchcraft wasn’t the “cool thing to do.” And that it’d be far more worthwhile to take a practical job than to write for fun.
And, sooner or later, I began to let the monotony of daily life lull me to sleep. Becoming more an image of myself than an actual essence. Leaning heavily on my “praiseworthy” attributes—the ones the world kept validating for me. And hiding away the rest in deep shame.
I may have been walking and breathing; but I wasn’t really alive. I wasn’t living from the place of my genius. Just an objectified version of what the world wanted from me.
Unsurprisingly, I felt used all the time. Even by myself.
I felt like I was expected to perform. To make people laugh, or say something intelligent and witty, or be fun at parties. I felt like I gave without receiving much back.
But how could I receive anything back? I didn’t even know who I was or what I wanted to receive. I was asleep.
We visionaries experience life through heightened senses. We are the “too much” people. The ones who can’t be satisfied with the stuff others are content with. We want to go deeper, ask more questions, penetrate to the layer of essence.
We want to access our own genius. And the genius in everything around us.
But, more often than not, life slowly convinces us that there’s something wrong with us. That we really are “too much.” And it’s far better to tone it down and numb it out than it is to be ourselves.
It’s far better to shape ourselves into what’s “praiseworthy” and “useful” to the world around us. And the “too much”-ness needs to slip away.
So we’re lulled to sleep. By Netflix shows and Instagram feeds and alcohol and superficial gossip and whatever will dull the pain of existing in spaces that can never quite handle us. Where we can never be fully seen.
And maybe we do fall asleep. For a while. Dulling our senses is dulling our life force. Minimizing our “too much”-ness and reducing ourselves to objects. Shells of ourselves. Images without the essence, the life force, inside.
But, to be a visionary, is to experience the world through heightened sensitivities. Whether we want to admit it or not, we can never truly kill off those visions, no matter how deep we bury them.
The pain of suppressing our sensitivities and emotions always rises to the surface. And we can continue to stuff it back down, or we can decide that we’re ready to be geniuses.
Very few of us consciously choose the path of our genius. For me, I went kicking and screaming. It took me vomiting blood every day for two months and shitting my pants at work to realize that I needed to awaken the parts of myself I thought I lost.
We talk about “finding our purpose” so often. But that implies it’s outside of ourselves. It’s something we have to go out and get. And it fits well with our definitions of purpose as something we achieve—like to be a life coach or writer or millionaire.
But it’s not about finding your purpose. It’s about discovering that purpose. And there’s a big difference.
Because the purpose was never lost. Those parts of ourselves that we buried and dulled were never lost. Only buried. Only covered.
And all we have to do is dis-cover them. Take off all of the shit that’s told us we’re “too much” and “not enough.” That’s convinced us that we don’t have permission to be geniuses. That we don’t have a genius inside.
When we take off all that covering—all the stuff that lulled us to sleep and convinced us we’re wrong—then our genius naturally rises up.
It’s who we are in our natural, default state. We can’t escape it. We are geniuses.
We are visionaries. Full of life. Bursting with a genius just waiting to be shared with the world. No matter how dull or numb we feel. That genius is in there. It’s our life force just waiting to be unleashed.
As I started to live from the place of my genius, life became more alive. I heard more. I tasted more. I saw more. Because genius is life force, itself.
In a world that is constantly numbing and placating us, constantly reducing us to objects, claiming your genius is a revolutionary act. It’s choosing to be alive—to fully engage with life, with all of our “too much”-ness and all of our deep emotions and sensitivities.
It brings back memories and experiences from the past. It invites us to explore and play like we did when we were young. It welcomes back passion and inspiration and creativity and magic.
The pieces start to connect. And we see how our current vision is just another iteration of what we did when we were younger.
For me, the obsession with hieroglyphics and exploration of what leads a wealthy young woman to suicide aren’t far cries from the work I do now helping people to use language (Sacred Branding®) to unpack their traumas and become more alive.
Because it’s all there. It’s always been there. Not something we have to go out and find. But simply something we have to uncover.
Our “too much”-ness is leading us to our genius. Every single time.
It’s how we come alive. And bring the rest of the world alive, too.
Questions for Reflection:
*Answer in a journal, in the comments right here, or take it over to the Sacred Branding® Facebook group where we can support one another:
Have you ever felt numb or confused about your purpose?
— Have you ever felt less emotional or sensitive to life? Do you ever feel like you’re just going through the motions in your life? Do you remember being more energetic or passionate when you were younger?
— Do you ever feel confused about your purpose? Do you feel like you need to “find your purpose”? Are you unsure how all of your life experiences click together?
— What if you don’t have to find your purpose at all—you only have to discover it underneath piles of stories that you’re “too much” and “not enough”? What if you are a visionary and your sensitivities are your life force, itself? What if living from your genius makes you come alive, full of purpose, and makes the rest of the world come alive, too?