The Human Costume

25 October 2024

As I walked from the plane through the concourse on a work trip, just over a week after completing an in-person Breathwork Facilitator training, I felt a sudden split — two selves on tangled radio frequencies, one wave crashing into another. I saw us, the passengers, in our body costumes, dragging our new personas in the baggage down the portal, entering life as if we’d forgotten we all came from the same plane.

Each of us drifted, acting separated, as if we didn’t share the same root, as if we hadn’t arrived on Earth together. In the airport, I watched us passing by, blind to each other, absorbed by the gleam of vending machines, stores, food, phones — all that glitters and distracts. I saw myself in this strange parade, nostalgic for the other side of the portal, feeling the pain of separation.

We’re all here together, yet somehow, we’ve forgotten where we came from. How could these alluring distractions make us forget our source, the contract we made for this life? I felt a deep grief, wondering how I could relate to your costume and baggage, how I was supposed to pretend that this division was real, that I didn’t miss our shared light.

As the noise swelled, I found myself distracting in its hum, trying to numb the suffering of separation — from you, from the Source, from the light we were before putting on these human costumes… wondering if you were doing the same, alleviating the very same pain of my separation from you, just as I was doing with my “superhuman” costume.

In that moment, I saw my own part in the divide — the walls I’d drawn between “me” and “you,” simply because you weren’t wearing my costume.

With this realization, I smiled at each person, looking deeply into their eyes and feeling their souls rise to meet me — sensing a shared spark, as if they remembered us from the plane. I felt, once again, the boundless power of love: a light that touches every heart, even those hidden behind dragon costumes.