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playing small.

baby girl, do you ever resent that they keep asking you to play small? do you ever feel the sting? like salt in the wound? that’s because it is. if you walk into the ocean whole, you can swim in the energy without it getting under your skin. and there’s really no nice way to be micromanaged, to have the heel of a tyrant on your neck.

so remember this: God himself is divinity playing small under each of these human masks. every single one of us is already the infinite “playing small,” enjoying a little game called “humanity.” but it’s human nature to forget, to imagine this earth as the center of the universe, to grasp, to be fearful, to resist the fact that the emperor has no clothes.

there’s just too much at stake. it’s actually very scary, and a painful process, to remember our own magnitude. it requires so much; all the (false) constructs that perpetuate the lies must be set aflame and reduced to ash. no one else can do this for you. and that’s why no one does it.

so next time they ask you to play small, oblige them. but oblige them the way God does: generously. because there’s really no other way for it to happen. everyone and everything is temporary. remember that it’s a dance and not a battle. and you won’t see it this way until you can open your own eyes to how sorely you have always had them outmatched.