Small Becomes Big
In the beginning, relatively small healing movements have big outcomes.
For example, you might decide to become a vegetarian, stop eating refined foods, or conduct a fasting regimen. These are not demanding changes to make, yet they all have powerful, purgative effects.
If you’ve been eating sugar your entire life and suddenly remove it from your diet—you might be surprised how bad you will feel, you might get sick, and you might realize what an addictive substance it is (and how difficult it is to live without).
Perhaps you then move onto meditation. Attempting to sit for just five minutes in total silence can be a monumental task, as you combat technology’s pernicious effects on your ability to concentrate, a never-ending to-do list, and a culture that celebrates keeping busy at all times.
With the more cursory causes of disease and ignorance getting under control, you move onto deeper healing work and the more subtle causes, such as inter-generational trauma, energetic blueprinting, and harmful psychological tendencies (towards choosing wrong diet, wrong relationship, and wrong work for the wrong reasons).
At this point, a certain level of peace and equanimity has been achieved, the daily struggle has been minimized, and you mostly see the world with clean eyes. The residue that remains can be likened to small spots on an otherwise glowing white sheet of paper, whereas before, there was no white to be found.
Starting to chisel away at these final layers of toxicity — though they are the minutest and hardest to see — creates an avalanche-like effect, similar to when you started off with basic fasting, basic meditation, and other similar practices. In fact, as these layers begin to dissolve, they might disable and/or incapacitate you for a prolonged period of time.
What you are being prepared for, like any elite athlete, is the last few inches of the climb, which will make all the other work seem like child’s play.
With your trauma, blueprinting, and harmful tendencies cleansed, you now start to chisel away at the “I” thought itself.
But that’s a story for another day.