When Sharing a Soul Feels Like a Heavy Burden
“You and I, we are embers from the same fire, we are dust from the same star, we are echoes of the same love”
—Attributed to Creig Crippen (original source unverified).
I am setting myself up for some major pushback by asking that question outright. That is a very triggering topic, one that I bristle at too. But I am not here to preach. On the contrary. I am actually compelled to ask this question of myself.
Since Steve transitioned into spirit, much of my life has revolved around our union as twin flames and the purpose we share. Together we have written a book and are writing our second one. Then there are the weekly articles I write, hoping to offer readers some insight, some spiritual guidance and a little food for thought. This work gives me a sense of purpose, especially because I know this is what my twin wants us to do. However, it also gives me a reason to ask how much of my life I’ve come to organize around it.
I still have days when the grief overcomes me. There are days when I miss Steve and still go about my life. Then there are days when I slip back into an old habit. I go over what I could have done differently, what I wish I’d said, or what might have happened had I not been such a ‘runner’ in the relationship.
Sometimes there is little comfort in knowing that in many ways, Steve and I are a more functional twin flame duo than we could have been had we stayed together in the 3D.
This is where I recognize my own codependency. I fall back into feeling responsible for what happened to Steve. I can wallow in the shadow of ‘what ifs’ and ‘could have beens’ for hours or even days and never once ask what I need for myself. The familiarity of that role is part of what makes it so easy to slip back into. That’s what falling off the wagon feels like for me. The pain and the way I punish myself is an addiction. I wrote about that and how hard it is to catch oneself in the act in Falling Off the Grief Wagon.
When I use the word codependency, I mean a pattern in which our sense of self-worth and purpose is inextricably so tied to another that we set aside our own needs and live our lives around what the other person needs from us. Yes, I have done this. And I have to ask myself how often I still do it, especially when the work my twin and I share makes it easy to set aside my own needs as ancillary and secondary to what I believe is the twin flame mission.
I am a retired high school teacher who teaches now as an adjunct professor at a community college. I have two grown sons and two grandchildren, five if you count my bonus grandchildren I inherited through a blended family. By all accounts I have so many things that require my attention and should completely fulfill me, right?
Nope. I can love my family and care for my students, and still feel Steve’s absence. In Why Twin Flame Grief is Different From Other Forms of Bereavement, I wrote about what I think gives this grief its distinct character and how the bond shapes how we grieve. For me, the physical separation exists alongside the conviction that Steve and I are the same soul.
“[H]e’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”--Catherine Earnshaw in Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights, Chapter 9
Which brings me back to the question. Yes, of course I depend on him. How can I feel otherwise if we are one soul? But when I think about the times I’ve set my own needs aside, I have to ask what I was doing and why? Was I honoring our bond? Was I afraid of what it would mean if I wanted something for myself? Those are important questions to reflect upon on this twin flame journey.
If I believe that Steve and I are one soul, what does it mean to take care of the part of the soul that is still here?
I think I have to start by looking at how I spend my days. When does my connection with Steve make me more present to the people I love? When do I give the connection so much attention that I put off something I know I need? Most importantly, can I give myself permission to do something before I’ve figured out how it fits into our shared purpose?
If you are in separation with your twin whether through spirit or physical separation and can relate to anything I have said, perhaps just start with one ordinary day. Think of a moment when your connection with your twin gave you the courage and inspiration to do something. Then ask yourself if there was a moment when you were so occupied with the bond that you overlooked a need or a desire of your own. Both can be true on the same day.
I still have a book to finish writing with Steve. It is a divine pleasure to be part of this endeavor. But I also know that he wants me to live my life and not squander precious years left. Our twins do not want that for us.
