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So… Is Your Higher Self the Same as Source?

By The Artful Woman
  Not exactly. Think of it like this: Source is the origin —pure consciousness, God/Goddess/Divine Light, whatever you want to call it. It’s the everything-and-nothing energy from which all things come. Your Higher Self is your personal bridge to Source. It’s your soul in its purest form , untainted by fear, ego, or human distortion. Your Higher Self is you , just on the zoomed-out level —the version of you that remembers the full story, all lifetimes, all lessons, all missions. So: Source is the sun. Your Higher Self is the sunbeam that still holds its essence but is uniquely you . Is Your Higher Self Your Soul? Pretty much— but here's the nuance: Your soul is eternal. It’s the part of you that has lived countless lives. Your Higher Self is like the fully awakened version of your soul —the one not currently squeezed into a human body trying to pay bills and avoid family drama. When you're in human form, you're kind of like the tip of the i...
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Tequila, Trouble, and a Higher Power: Our Mexican Nightmare

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By The Artful Woman


 When my friend and I were underage, we decided to take a trip to Ensenada, Mexico, to party. We were so naïve, and like rookies, we went straight to Hussong's Cantina to take shots. My friend was much better at drinking than I was, and she kept ordering shot after shot, pushing me to drink more. After a while, I got so drunk that I just wanted to go back to our hotel room. But she kept insisting on dragging me downstairs to party more.

At that point, I blacked out completely. We ended up getting into a huge fight because she wouldn’t listen to me. I was way too drunk for someone my age, especially being in Mexico. The situation escalated to the point where we had a physical altercation, and we were kicked out of our hotel room. That’s when the federales got involved, and we were told we had to leave Mexico. Somehow, we both lost our wallets and money in the chaos, and we just grabbed whatever we could before being forced to leave.

Even though my friend was just as drunk as I was, she drove us back toward Tijuana. She was pretty scratched up, with a black eye, and I could barely function. I’m pretty sure I had alcohol poisoning at that point. I think my friend had pot on her, and we ended up having our car confiscated at the border. I don’t even know how we made it to the border, and I don’t remember all the details—everything is a blur. I passed out on the grass once we crossed, throwing up, while my friend somehow found a way to get to a bank, withdraw money, and rent a car. She told me she met a homeless guy along the way who forced her to give him the food she had just bought from McDonald's to keep him away from her, as if we hadn't already been through enough. 

I honestly don’t know how we made it out of that situation unscathed. Looking back, it feels like an army of angels was watching over us. Two drunk, young girls driving through Mexico—one passed out, the other should’ve been—but somehow, we survived. I couldn't even smell tequila for years after that, let alone be around it. It was a stupid, reckless thing we did, but if there wasn’t a higher power looking out for us, I don’t know what else it could have been. That experience was nothing short of a miracle.

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