Karma: The Cosmic Soap Opera We Signed Up For (Why Did We Do That?)
Let’s talk about karma—not just the personal kind that makes your ex text you after you finally move on, but the big, messy, collective kind that sticks to families, countries, and entire civilizations like cosmic chewing gum on the bottom of a very old shoe.
We all know karma’s basic PR line: "You reap what you sow." But what happens when you’re reaping what someone else sowed—centuries ago, in another lifetime, on the other side of the planet?
That’s right: ancestral karma. Or even better: collective national karma. And if you’ve chosen the life of a lightworker (congrats, by the way, on winning the universe’s least glamorous lottery), you might also be cleaning up karma that isn’t even remotely yours.
Because why stop at your own cosmic mess when you can take on humanity’s too?
The Loop That Never Ends
Let’s start with the loop.
Karma, when left unchecked, has this way of keeping people stuck in an eternal cosmic Groundhog Day. You try everything: therapy, meditation, yoga, crystals, essential oils, monastery, screaming into the void—yet nothing shifts.
Why? Whyyy?!
Because you’re not just carrying your baggage; you’ve got a family-sized karmic suitcase strapped to your back. And guess what? It’s filled with unpaid energetic debts from your ancestors, and their ancestors, too.
Then there’s collective karma, the real heavyweight champion of stagnation.
Imagine the accumulated pain, mistakes, and unresolved issues of an entire country or group of people—and you’re somehow tethered to it, trying to move forward while dragging the energetic equivalent of a freight train behind you.
Translation > BIG PAIN.
It’s like trying to sprint through molasses, but hey, no pressure.
Lightworkers: The Unsung Janitors of Humanity’s Soul
Now, let’s talk about us lightworkers.
Oh yes, we—the spiritual overachievers who thought it would be fun to incarnate on Earth during its karmic clearance sale. You see, many lightworkers didn’t just sign up to work through their own karmic nonsense (which, let’s face it, would’ve been more than enough).
No, we had to go full cosmic martyr and volunteer to clear the karma of entire families, lineages, nations, and even timelines. Because apparently, we thought, “Hey, why not?”
Here’s the kicker: nobody notices.
Nobody. Well, nearly nobody.
While we’re out here dismantling centuries of ancestral trauma, healing national wounds, and untangling the energetic spaghetti of human history, humanity just keeps scrolling TikTok.
They have no idea.
And honestly? That’s the funniest part.
We took on this task for a species that doesn’t even know we exist.
It’s like being the janitor in a pitch-black room—you’re scrubbing away lifetimes of grime, and no one’s there to say, “Hey, thanks for cleaning up the mess!”
But let’s be real: would we even want the credit? Probably not (tho I would, especially on Friday evening! ha).
The universe already paid us in spiritual brownie points and a lifetime supply of existential crises.
Why We Do It
So why do we do this ridiculously ridiculous job?
Why did we say “yes” to cosmic duties that feel like trying to mop up an ocean with a single paper towel?
The answer is hilariously simple: love and most of us kept in touch with God and team.
We do it because deep down, we believe in humanity (tho our human self can be bitching here and there).
Even when they’re oblivious, even when they’re messy, even when they’re downright infuriating, we see their potential. But we don’t date potential anymore, right Nika?! Ha
We do it because we know that every knot we untangle, every karmic loop we break, and every energetic burden we clear brings humanity one step closer to a brighter future.
And yes, it’s exhausting.
Yes, it’s thankless.
But let’s be honest: we’re also kind of brilliant at it.
A Round of Applause (for Us!)
..Thank you, thanks 🙏🏻
So to all the lightworkers out there, myself included: thank you and thank me.
Thank us for taking on this absurd, colossal, mind-bending task.
Thank you for doing the impossible, for clearing the unseen, and for staying in the game even when it feels like the game is rigged.
We’re like cosmic janitors, superheroes without capes, quietly saving the day while humanity binge-watches Netflix. And honestly?
That’s hilarious.
But let’s take a moment to acknowledge the humor in it all, because if we can’t laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of our cosmic mission, what’s the point?
I have this friend with whom we always go through challenges with laughter saying:” fak it, we are fine anyway!”
Here’s to us—the unsung heroes of the karmic battlefield.
We may not get a trophy (just yet), but at least we’ve got a great sense of humor and some seriously upgraded souls.
Now, back to work. Who needs kidney?
