This is one of the most profound questions you will be asked in this lifetime: Who is your author? Who tells your story and how?
If you are quick to answer, beware – you have likely pulled the wool over your own eyes. A question like this requires some serious thinking, which means it should take you quite some time to answer it.
You might be tempted to say what you think is the right answer: Me! I’m my author! I write my story! Or perhaps you have a devout spiritual practice and lean more towards the God-as-author answer.
But then why do you feel insecure when you look in the mirror and see those extra pounds or the new wrinkles? Why do you feel like an old beer can thrown out a car window when he leaves the relationship? Why do you feel like a moron when you try to have a conversation with your cousin about the master’s degree she just earned and you’re half checked out because you can’t remember where you left your baby’s binky?
Who’s authoring you then? The society that says you have to be young and thin to be pretty? The man who thought you weren’t deserving of love? Other cultural messages that equate success with outward accomplishments?
Whenever we let something or someone author us, we’re losing power. We’re plugging our soul’s circuitry into outlets that cannot sustain us. These are the kinds of power sources that cost us instead of feeding us.
We’ll be asked a million times a day, “Who is authoring you?” For many of us, we’ll go to the grave still working on this, still earnestly sorting this out. Identifying our ideal author is easy – it’s commanding our spirit to remember that authorship that is the challenge. When we lose sight of who our author really is, we’re selling pieces of our soul to the lowest bidder. A little here, a little there and we’re in pieces all over the energetic map.
Who is authoring you? Can you invest your energy circuits into the author who deserves to author you (yourself and the Divine, working in partnership) and stand firm in that space? When temptation calls, will you lose pieces of your soul, or can you stand strong in your own authorship?