Virginie Linder
Blissipline Coach

From collecting the crumbs to baking my own bread.


I am sorry if I was not the daughter you wanted me to be. I was shocked to hear that sentence coming up in my head as I said my last goodbye to my dad in front of his coffin, the day he was incinerated. My first thought afterwards was guilt. A huge sense of betraying who I was. Because I love myself. I know I am enough. Thinking that was like losing a battle I thought I had won years ago. I started to feel bad, to go down the self-sabotage road and got caught up with my monkey mind, feeling bad and angry. All this time, all this pain, all this processing to go back to that! Come on, girl, you can’t go down that road. Don’t you dare buying that shit again! You are not your thoughts.

 

YOU ARE NOT YOUR THOUGHTS.

YOU ARE THE WITNESS OF YOUR THOUGHTS.

 

That’s one of the most powerful teaching I got to receive when I started to meditate. Still, the day of the funeral, I bought it. My thought was me. My thought was defining me. I was a bad daughter. If my father was like he was it was entirely because of me. I was responsible for him and his personality. The way he was with me, my brother and my mother. I was responsible, dammit!

The meditation instructor in me got played by her own mind. What an irony! But the day after, I realized what happened. A release. A layer shedding. A love declaration from my dad to me. It was freeing. That sentence was not coming from me. It was sent to me. Big difference. It was a mirror sent to me to show me he was now aware of the seed that had been planted in my mind. That feeling of not being enough. It was the key to definitely unlock and deliver the daughter from her old patterns. To let her know he was now aware of his responsibility and aware of what she went through and that it was now over. I was tricked that day by the fact that I felt no energy facing the coffin, unlike what happened to all coffins I have had to see so far. I thought “There is nothing here, no one, no energy. He came, he lived, he left. No second thoughts.”

I quickly became aware of a wonderful fact: what couldn’t be done while he was living was now a possibility. What he couldn’t give while he was alive, he could now give, even better. Meaning delivered from his human body, he was now nothing but energy and love. And that was limitless.

I have started to notice my practice of meditation becoming very intense. So intense that I sometimes have to open my eyes, take a deep breath and then come back to it. This has been a direct and tangible effect of my father’s death. I ask nothing from him. I don’t talk to him. I don’t even make it a sankalpa to meet him in my dreams, lucid or not. I feel so free. I haven’t felt so free in my entire life. It’s like him dying gave me the chance to be lighter. So now I know why I couldn’t cry. Why would I? I am alive.

 

YOU ARE THE CREATOR

AND YOUR CREATIVITY IS INFINITE

 

So I started to bake my own bread. Gone are the days when I was only collecting crumbs of love. Throughout the years I have learned to choose my flour - organic – and organize my life so that each day would be the best of my life. Now it is time to put the bread in the oven and see it expand: in shape, crusty and smelling good. A loaf of bread that would truly reflect my growth. Because we are the Universe and we are One. Whatever you do has a ripple effect on every single living being and Earth. But no pressure, honey. Just be you. And know the Universe always has your back.

So take a bite and savor your bread of life. You can slice it and share it, eat it raw or put jam, honey, butter on it if you feel like it. It is yours. Creativity is within all of us. You are your own baker. Just find a way to connect to it. Follow your bliss, it never fails.

And if you feel overwhelmed, reach out. You can try different recipes from others before finding your own special blend, your signature bread. Together we can co-create one. You are the chef, and I can be the help.

 

For a free coaching session : contact@virginielinder.com


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