The Army of Chosen Ones by Hera Bosley
The Army of Chosen Ones
By: Hera Bosley
Grateful, but in the same breath, inadequate.
How could I ever possibly live up to the task at hand?
You see, my soul is not ascending.
My soul has descended to come here and live out this life.
Old soul is not an adequate description of me.
No, I am ancient.
I am beyond time and space.
I am beyond words and black and white definitions.
I am ethereal and I am light.
I am sound and I am vibration.
I am you and you are me.
We are the chosen ones.
We have been called here to transmute and transform.
What an honor,
Oh, but, what a fucking mess.
There are days where it would be easier to go back to higher dimensions from whence I came.
No, I cry, this is too hard. This is beyond repair. This hurts too much.
Why did I choose this?
Why would I have picked this time in history to come back?
Back to the ugliness and rampant racism.
Back to the sexism and the misogyny.
Back to the desecration of our mother earth.
It is so hard to watch but I am trapped.
Trapped between the veil of my soul and my human skin.
Paralyzed by fear.
Fear of not being enough.
Fear of never living up to the demand that has been placed upon my soul.
The massive undertaking of which we all have a part to play.
The destruction and the dissolution.
The rise and the fall.
The crumbling and the crusade.
The heroine's fucking journey.
It’s hard. And it is so dense.
It is up and it is down.
It is amazing and it is frightening.
It is everything and it is nothing all at the same time.
The reality of this reality is sometimes unbearable.
How do I witness without falling victim to it?
How do I surrender and take action?
How do I flow and stay grounded?
How do I honor myself and stay in service to others?
How do I balance the intensity of this duality?
The light and the dark
The love and the hate
The inspiration and the ignorance.
The enormity of what I’ve been called here to do is enough to swallow me whole.
And some days it does.
But not today.
No, today I am here.
Today I am ready.
Today I am filled with a reverence.
Unafraid and unabashed.
No shame, no guilt, no fear can hold me back now.
No, I have arrived at the feet of my destiny, my dharma, my purpose.
I was made for this. Quite Literally.
My skin, my mind, my cells, every fiber of my being was called here to this life.
To witness the rise, no, to actively participate in the rise.
The heroine’s journey.
I am you and you are me.
We are the chosen ones.
We shall stand in the face of this madness and we shall rise up in spite of it.
We shall give birth to a new generation of beings.
A generation with brilliant minds,
To inspire inventions that will counteract all the greed and all the hate.
A generation that will push back against the patriarchy.
A generation that honors the feminine and the masculine within us all.
We are no longer asleep nor are we afraid.
We are an army of chosen ones here to create change.
Unsure of what the future holds, but I stand steady in my grace.
The enormity of what I've been called here to do is enough to swallow me whole.
And some days it does,
But, not today.
Today, I rise.
Today, I fight back against all that has pinned me down.
Fight back? They say. A lightworker doesn’t need to “fight back”
And to that I say fuck you.
My journey does not need to look like yours to be effective.
We all have a part to play in this orchestrated madness.
My eyes are open to the light and the dark.
The winter of my soul would bring you to your knees, trust me.
Do not look at my fists of rage and judge me.
I look back at my life and see exactly when each finger was pulled down,
Fist forming,
Anger brewing,
Belly full of hot fire.
How did we get here? Where the WOMEN are looked at as less than?
As second class citizens?
The Women? The life givers? The portals? The mystics? The truth tellers?
Who decided this? When did this come to be?
I’ve been in other lifetimes where we were honored and revered.
Where the blood that we menstruated was considered sacred,
Not shamed and hidden away like a dirty secret.
Not looked at as gross but honored in rituals for its literal life force energy and power.
I do not know how this came to be, but I am here, and I will fight back.
With a belly full of fire and a heart full of light,
Because I am allowed to be a beautiful juxtaposition of compassion and rage.
You see, we are all playing our part, our role,
and I’ll be damned if I bend myself to fit in your mold of what that should look like.
No, I have been bent and distorted,
I have been held back and I have made myself small,
I have walked on eggshells,
And I have bitten my tongue.
I have kept my opinions to myself for far too long.
I stand here with my scars and my broken limbs,
I stand here with my love and my anger.
My voice may tremble and my hands may shake,
But I refuse to sit on those sidelines any longer.
I stand here as a representative of the army of chosen ones
Here to create change.
The enormity of what I have been called here to do is enough to swallow me whole.
And some days it does,
But not today.
Hera Bosley is the creative visionary behind Mindful Euphoria, a place where she shares her insights about spirituality and living a more mindful life.
Her mission is to use her gifts as a writer and intuitive healer to inspire others to connect with their higher self and illuminate their soul’s divine purpose.
