Bridging the Divide: The Dance Between Your Human and Divine Self (Part 1)

The Divide Between the Human and the Divine Self

I’ve written before about accepting the human side of ourselves—that undeniable truth that while we have a divine self reaching into beautiful, sacred spaces, we also walk this earth as imperfect, reactive, and often deeply challenged humans. These two aspects of self—the divine and the human—are often miles apart. And the more spiritual work you do, the more your divine self ascends into these incredible, elevated realms of consciousness. But with that elevation comes a different kind of frustration. You start to feel a deep irritation with the human experience—the cruelty, the stagnation of society, the never-ending cycles of suffering. It becomes harder to exist in this physical world when you’ve touched the realms of light.

I’ve spoken often about being compassionate toward your human side, recognizing that it hasn’t quite caught up yet. And that’s still true. But something is shifting within me. I’m no longer content to simply accept my human reactions and emotional patterns. I want better for myself. I want my human side to rise and meet my divine side more often. And I’ve discovered that this isn’t about escaping into more divine experiences. It’s about staying here—in the body, in the discomfort, in the thick of everyday life—and choosing to bring the divine perspective into the most human moments.

Bringing the Human Closer to the Divine Is a Choice—Not a Requirement

It’s important to understand that this isn’t about obligation or getting it “right.” Bringing your human self closer to your divine self is a choice. It’s an offering, a way of gifting your life experience to Source. And that’s a powerful shift in perspective. You’re not here to only fulfil spiritual contracts, agreements or purposes. You’re not under obligation to be enlightened or evolved. A significant reason you’re here is because Source desires to experience life through you—and how you choose to offer that experience is entirely up to you. That in itself is a profound and beautiful service.

When you recognise this, everything softens. There’s no pressure, only opportunity. You begin to ask yourself: What kind of experience do I want to gift to Source?

I’m not saying that there aren’t contracts or agreements, and definitely not saying that you aren’t here to work—these are all experiences as well. But they are a choice. I choose to be in service to Source, and I choose to be a warrior of light. I can sense when I’m engaging in a contract or agreement, but that doesn’t change the fact that I choose these—they are not imposed on me. Well… sometimes it might feel like they are, but always, every time, you choose.

Transcending the Trap of Soul Contracts

For a long time, I looked at life through the lens of soul contracts. And while that framework has its place, I’ve found it creates a ceiling—a point where you start resenting the part of you that made those contracts. You start feeling frustration toward your higher self, wondering why you agreed to experiences that now feel too painful, too hard, or too limiting.

But when you let go of that framework and instead understand that Source, through you, simply wants to experience, everything changes. You stop attaching meaning like “this is good” or “this is bad.” You stop trying to figure out why. You remove the emotional charge altogether. And instead, you observe each experience—joyful, painful, mundane, or extraordinary—as a pure and beautiful expression of Source exploring its own creation.

This is true freedom. You’re no longer at odds with yourself. You’re no longer frustrated by past agreements. You become the living embodiment of Source curiosity, wonder, and experience.

Letting Go of Judgement: The Human Mind’s Obsession with Right and Wrong

Our lower human self constantly wants to judge: is this experience positive or negative? Do I like this or not like it? Is this person good or bad? And yet, when you remove that lens of judgement, you begin to see that everything simply is. And in that is-ness, there is beauty.

We attach meaning to suffering. We tell ourselves stories about discomfort being something to avoid, that pain is wrong, that joy is preferable. And in doing so, we limit our capacity to fully experience life in all its richness. If you let go of the need to determine whether something is good or bad, you open yourself to a vastness of experience that is deeply liberating.

Gratitude becomes the bridge. I am grateful for this challenge. I am grateful for this moment of discomfort. I am grateful even when this is not my preference—because this, too, is an experience I get to offer to Source.

And this isn’t about practicing some shallow version of gratitude or forcing yourself to be thankful for things that feel unbearable. This is about recognising that everything—absolutely everything—is an opportunity. Every experience you encounter is a moment where you can choose to grow, evolve, or support the collective. Even the experiences that seem stagnant, where no obvious growth happens, are still valid; Source experiences through those moments too. But when you consciously identify the opportunity for growth within any situation, you enrich that experience—not only for yourself but as a sacred offering to Source.

This is where gratitude takes on a whole new power. You find yourself saying, Thank you for this person who triggered me, because through them I have the chance to hold space, to practice compassion, and in doing so, something within me also heals. You become grateful for every opportunity to be in service, for every moment that asks you to rise, even if it’s uncomfortable. Whether you label the experience as joyful or painful, easy or challenging, each one becomes an invitation for transformation. And the more you practice this awareness, the more you begin to feel balanced, less overwhelmed, and able to see the divine intelligence behind it all.

The Illusion of Control and the Subtle Ways It Shows Up

Lately, I’ve been noticing just how often we try to control our lives without even realising it. Control is one of those words people feel uncomfortable with—it carries heavy connotations of dominance or manipulation. But control isn’t always loud or obvious. In fact, it’s often subtle, hidden in the way we constantly try to manage how we feel about a situation.

Attaching a positive or negative label to an experience is control. It’s the mind’s way of needing to place itself at the centre of everything, to determine whether it feels safe or unsafe, happy or unhappy. It’s the ego stepping in to say, “I have to understand this. I have to categorise this.” And that’s control.

If you remove that, if you simply allow yourself to exist in the experience without deciding whether it’s good or bad, without needing to determine if you like it or not, you step into a state of pure presence. It’s not about having a personal narrative in every situation—it’s about asking, What did I do differently? How did I respond? What did I learn? And if you didn’t respond the way you wanted, you apologise. You own it. You try again.

That’s growth. That’s connection.

We think there are rules about how we should behave in different environments. That in a social setting, or in business, or in a professional exchange, we have to wear different masks and follow unspoken expectations. But you are you—in every room, in every interaction. And the more authentic, vulnerable, and open you become, the more powerful and beautiful those interactions can be.

You have a choice—to react from the lower human self or to respond from a higher, more compassionate place.

The less we try to control everything, the more we see that we are always weaving—thread by thread—into a much larger fabric of life. Every word, every action, every thought is a thread of light, love, and grace being woven into the human experience. And that is the great work we are here to do.

The Power of Boundaries: Elevating the Human Self Through Discernment

Another vital part of bringing your human side closer to your divine self is learning the power of boundaries. It’s recognising that you are not an open doorway for all energies to walk through. You hold responsibility for this particular spark of light, and in the illusion of separation we experience—so that Source can grow through us—you are the one entrusted with making conscious choices about what experiences and energies you allow in.

In this illusion, you have been given the beautiful power of choice. And with that power, you get to decide when an energy approaching you is something you welcome or something you gently decline. You can sense when an energy will be disruptive, when it will bring complication, consume your time, or introduce heaviness that dims your light. And when you feel that, even if on the surface it looks like an opportunity—money, a client, a student, a new connection—you have the right to simply say no.

This is not about judgment; it’s about conscious creation. These boundaries are crucial for growth, for clarity, and for moving steadily toward the experiences you choose to offer back to Source. And it’s important to remember—there is no right or wrong in this. Every choice is simply a choice. You might choose to let that person in and walk through the discomfort of that experience to learn and grow. Or you might choose to hold firm in your boundary, knowing that you wish to offer Source a different experience—one aligned with peace, expansion, and lightness.

For me, I choose to say no often, because I know the direction I wish to travel. I know the experience I want to offer back to Source through this spark of light I’m currently guiding. And that is the beauty of conscious choice. Each time we choose, we contribute to Source’s expansion in a uniquely beautiful way.

Having boundaries is not about shutting life out—it’s about protecting the light you are cultivating and ensuring that what you invite into your space supports your highest growth, not your regression. This level of discernment is not just practical; it is a sacred act. And through this, you become an active, conscious participant in weaving the experiences of life itself.