Here is an old paradigm of service that I think is dying. It’s a paradigm of service that is built on a foundation of self-abandonment.
And you may be living a version of it right now.
It is the guide and facilitator who overgives, undercharges and undervalues their work because asking for more feels “unspiritual.”
The coach who answers messages at 11.45pm because their self-worth is attached to always being needed.
Or again, the ones carrying deep medicine who won’t market or be seen (even when they deep down crave to) and call that refusal a form of integrity.
I think of this paradigm as something that asks you to bleed for your mission and to call the bleeding holy. To almost wear it as a badge of honor. Can you relate?
This is the “holiest” form of self betrayal. On the outside it looks like a form of virtue but deep down it may cost you deeply.
It may turn your calling into a burden. The work you loved can slowly become the very thing you resent if you are not careful. And sometimes you may even begin to resent the very people you swore to serve.
That resentment leaks into your energy, and the quality of your offerings.
This is something I’ve experienced personally during some seasons of my work. And I have held space for countless bright lights who have experienced the same.
I think one of the places where self-abandonment hides the most is in our relationship with our gifts and our mission.
The root
The reason why our mission often runs on self abandonment is because beneath the devotion often hides fears we haven’t named.
The fear of being seen as selfish or fueled by greed. The fear of taking up too much space. The fear of humiliation and rejection if someone deems that what you’re offering is not worth what you’re asking… The fear of alienation if you stop being endlessly available…
This old paradigm of service lets you hide your fears as a form of virtue. That’s why we call our staying small humility, and not sharing our gifts integrity.
This is the reason why this form of self abandonment is hard to catch.
Traditionally, self abandonment feels bad. You can feel yourself betraying yourself and it hurts deeply.
But when it comes to your mission, it almost feels noble, unless you are very attuned. It almost sounds like the most spiritual version of you. And I believe that is the trap.
To me this is one of the main reasons why we have struggling healers, starving artists and burned-out coaches.
I was one.
PS: If you recognize yourself in this, this is the exact pattern we uproot in my upcoming live workshop, the Alchemy of Self-Abandonment - The lightworker’s edition. Reserve your spot here →
The new paradigm of service: Selful Service
Here is what is rising to replace the old paradigm of service. I call it selful service.
It’s not selfish or even totally selfless, but selful which is a way of service that does not exclude self.
This paradigm is not rooted on self-abandonment but in fair exchange. A clear appreciation of your value and your gifts and the refusal to prostitute your light.
Selful service understands something that the old paradigm could not.
Your gifts aren’t supposed to bleed you dry, but to support your aliveness so that they can keep reaching and supporting the people who need them.
This paradigm asks you to receive as fully as you give so that you’re not the only one pouring.
It asks you to receive compensation for your work in a way that honors the depth you offer, as a form of self respect, not as greed.
It understands that the people you want to serve most deserve a version of you that isn’t running on fumes.
It asks you to become the spokesperson your mission actually needs. One who can share it unapologetically because the people your work and your gifts could change need you to stop hiding or resenting the craft.
This is exactly what we will do in the Alchemy of self-abandonment. A live workshop for healers, coaches and guides ready to stop betraying themselves in the name of service. We uproot the pattern at its root, so that your work supports your aliveness instead of creating resentment.
In gratitude,
- Xavier
