Many people have taken to using the word with only a vague idea of what it is.
The dictionary defines it as follows:
Sovereign, from Latin supernes (heavenly), superus (higher)
A person who has supreme power or authority
What exactly does it mean to be sovereign?
As the dictionary definition suggests, a sovereign is someone who has supreme power or authority. In the context, it means that as a sovereign, you are the one with the highest authority over yourself. Nobody can rule over you because you do not allow it. Nothing stands between you and Creator/Source, no priest or other religious figure and no government.
Not accepting any authority above oneself sounds great and seriously powerful, which is probably why sovereignty has become a buzzword in the alternative media. However, with great power comes great responsibility.
It is a lengthy process. A painful one, even dirty. Definitely lonely. And it is deeply internal. It starts, perhaps, with a niggling at the back of your mind. Something is off. There has to be more to life than work, eat, and sleep. Nobody should tell me how to live my life… Then you realise you can’t vote any longer because voting means you accept someone as master, someone above you. Someone with authority over you. You need that like a hole in your head. When you casually mention it amongst friends who are having a heated discussion of who the best candidate is, they all come down on you as one, all political debate forgotten. How can you not vote? It’s your civil duty! If you don’t vote, don’t complain if you don’t like what the government is doing!
You can’t quite find the words to explain that no matter who is in power will not do what you like. For what you like is a peaceful world in which everyone knows right from wrong, everyone knows we are all born equal, and by design, no government will ever allow that to happen.
Step by slow step, you chip away on everything that is not your own authority.
You throw the reminder for your next disease-prevention test in the garbage where it belongs. Because you know that no matter how long someone studied to obtain that doctorate, they will not know your body anywhere near as well as you do, even if the tremendous level of corruption and the outright genocide agenda of the medical system hasn’t occurred to you yet.
You take your children out of school, knowing that even the best private school will offer nothing but indoctrination, and you can no longer justify sacrificing your children to a society that actively supports slavery.
Your large circle of friends has diminished to a tiny one; and even those friends remaining are there more out of morbid curiosity than friendship. Your once vibrant social life has dwindled, and you spend your evenings in the quiet and peaceful space of your home, looking for ways to leave your managerial position at the flagship branch of the Retailer of the Year that has outsourced its manufacture to Asia where safety regulations are nonexistent and children preferred as labour because they are less costly.
You question the lawfulness of taxes, for what else pays for all the wars? Other taxes come into your focus, and you feel a little sick when you realise that the money you make from your 40-hours-a-week hard work contributes roughly 80% to the national tax gain, for income tax is by no means the only tax you are demanded to pay.
The last of your friends are making excuses why they can’t meet for a coffee, and you resign yourself to a lonely future. Maybe a trip to the mall will pick you up. That has always helped make you feel better, if only momentarily.
That’s a lovely skirt, you think and look at the label. Before you see the size, its origin glares at you. Made in China. You imagine small children, labouring long hours on sewing machines. You put the skirt back and walk out, past the perfume shop that sells poison in bottles, past the fast-food joint where genetically modified products are sold as food, and past all the other stores offering needless things masquerading as must-haves, until you reach your car.
But instead of feeling annoyed or sad, you feel elated. You realise you’ve withdrawn from the temptations consumerism imposes, withdrawn from the false security governments offer, and you know you are truly on your way toward becoming your very own monarch.
Your former friends believe you’ve joined the dark side; they still buy all the ideas the government sells them, but you know with your entire being that there, at that once-unapproachable destination, is the true light. A light so strong, so powerful, it will protect you from the falsehood of what is called reality, a light so pure it will instantly reveal any lie, and a light that merges with your own.
You look at the saying ‘We are all one’ in a different light, and you begin to understand. There, beyond good and evil… as Rumi said. You are on your way to that field beyond, and you understand that love is not an emotion but a state of being.