Reflections From My True Self

Remembering Who I Really Am


A Gateway

There is a pain wedged beneath my ribs, radiating like heat into the rest of my body. My heart rests on it. Together, they make a formidable weight.

I want to banish the pain. Obliterate it. Erase it.

All of my energy turns towards it, intense and focused. The rest of me is left feeling tired, weak, drained.

I drag myself around. Then I remember this is also a gateway, this pain. It is a gateway into discovering, as I have so many times before, only to promptly forget anew, that there is no separation between that pain and me. There is no me versus it.

I pass through the gateway, armed with all of my “going on an adventure” gear, including my curiosity. And the pain begins softening, dissolving into my tissue.

And my heart, it is floating free.

Photo credit: Kevin Tuck at

Photo credit: Kevin Tuck at


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Intending Alignment

I know that when I am in alignment, my energy pulls in tight, powerful, so that anything I propose to myself unfolds with sharp clarity and flows with grace. When I am in alignment, even the obstacles in my path are shaped like guideposts that show me the way.

So I set aligning with the highest version of my Self as my intention, knowing in a quietly solid way that this intention will serve me well. It springs from that place, that essence of mine that I intuit, sometimes glimpse, but cannot even find a proper name for.

But how do I set about fulfilling such an intention?

I admire grit and determination. There is a beautiful, graceful and inspiring example in the life of my children right now. But I am aware, as well, that, if I am careless and lazy, it can turn against me, alienate me from the very thing I am seeking to achieve, becoming a forbidding taskmaster. So I know that it is not through single-mindedness that I can align.

I like to hold my intentions gently, like hummingbirds that nestle in the palm of my hand. But, again, if I am lazy and careless, they startle and fly away from me so fast that I cannot remember the feel of their shape. So I know that it is not simply by opening my hands that I can align.

There is a careful balance in it. It requires attentiveness. And quiet. And I dare not set my mind to achieving just that.

Instead, I make soup. I sit at the table with my family and laugh with my son as he jokes, relishing the sparkle of his eyes. And I hold the flavor of this moment, without anticipating the next.


Photo by Jim Mac on

Photo by Jim Mac on

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A Willingness to Lie to Myself

I have been listening to The Story, and the woman is speaking of living in a community built around a nuclear plant, her complicated relationship with her memories and what she knows about the harm done to people there. She tells us it is not simple, there were no evil people, rather, really good people in specific circumstances. I know what she means.

I often reflect on fear and how it keeps us from moving. Today, I think about the risks we are willing to take and our willingness to lie to ourselves, to believe whatever we tell ourselves, rather than facing what we know.

Just a short time ago, at a crossroads, needing to make choices, I sat terrified that I could not tell apart what I wished for, from what was.  I recognize my temptation to cover the sun with a finger, I’ve attempted it before. I know my own power to fool myself.

But experience has left me with new wisdom. At least, now, I know what I am capable of.  So, I asked people I trust. I wrote my options down, pretending to look at someone else’s life. I tapped out my fear of wrong choices and failure.

Finally, I sat alone among the prairie grasses and the dragonflies, looking into a still pond, breathing, until my energy mirrored its quietude, until I could sense the shape of my core, until I felt my Self. And then, no illusion could withstand that light, then I had a clarity, like grace, cutting, true.

Photo Credit: Colleen Benelli at

Photo Credit: Colleen Benelli at

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self: Am I doing the right thing?

Self: How does it feel?

self: It feels right, but maybe I’m doing it wrong, I think I read, or heard—

Self: Does it work for you?

self: Well, yes…

Self: You doubt what you are Knowing with your body and mind.  Bring in heart, and Spirit, then there will be only alignment.


Photo credit: TouTouke (Agnes Scholiers) on

Photo credit: TouTouke (Agnes Scholiers) on


To Stop Putting It Off

Once, in another time, I was working in an internship that was very important to me. I was living what felt like a desolate life, and trying to recognize what choices had gotten me there and what changes I could make. The internship was one of the places where I could get perspective, it was like a tree that gave me shade as I explored a sun-bleached landscape.


I am remembering that internship because one of the things I had to do was go through a long list of contacts and make cold calls to them, to tell them about our program and see if they would work with us.  Picking up the phone felt utterly terrifying.  I found all kinds of urgent things to do for a few days, before I could simply no longer put that task off.


I am intending, now, to recall what I did, what I thought, when the day came that I finally had to make those calls.


I know that, once I started, it got easier and easier. To the degree that making cold calls, even today, is something I can do effortlessly, without any moment of pause. There’s nothing to it. I don’t think about it, I simply pick up the phone and dial.


Sometimes, when there’s something I just have to do, that feels paralyzing, but that I have been shown in so many ways, ever more urgently and forcefully by my Soul that it must be done…well, I simply have to stop thinking about it, breathe deep and just take the plunge!


Photo Credit: ©Tnimalan at

Photo Credit: ©Tnimalan at


And if I allow myself to recall that internship, and so many other times after it, I can remember, too, that once I do that terrifying thing, it is not half as scary as it was when I was contemplating doing it.


Sometimes Quiet Doesn’t Come

Sometimes quiet doesn’t come. Even though I do everything that I should. I sit in the same place as so many times when I have achieved it. The door is closed, there is no noise, my eyes remain shut, a white sheet drawn over my thoughts. But images push their way into my mind’s eye, a story engages me and I find myself so taken that I forget it is a ruse and I gallop off with it.

Then I remember, rein myself in, allow the story to drift off without me. My third eye blazes in my forehead. My energy is aligned, flowing freely.

And all that notwithstanding, still, the white noise roars on in my ears.

Sometimes quiet doesn’t come. Sometimes, the stillness through which the directions of my soul can be unveiled seem out of reach.

Then, I have to tell myself that my efforts must suffice, that this is the equivalent of a silent “no” from my Self. I have to tell myself that I will sit again tomorrow, and perhaps the noise will lessen, or the story will be colorless.

I rise with a sigh, and go on with my day.

And sometimes, that is all.

And sometimes, when I finally step out my door, the sunlight drips through the tree with such radiance, it lights up the  blooming tulips, their green velvet leaves, and the loamy soil beneath them, and, unexpectedly, the quiet is spilling within me and the world is suddenly, splendidly, transformed.



Holding Space

Holding space means clearing the energy of the physical place we are in, but also creating energetic boundaries around us that do away with distractions, often including the ones we bring along ourselves, so that it is easier to feel alignment with our Self and, therefore, our interactions are more authentic and reflect our truths more fully.

Holding space means our thoughts, our feelings, and whatever we choose to share,  are safely contained, without spilling out into the rest of the world, the rest of our lives, if we do not choose to take them there. It means that the energies that are constantly trying to encroach on us are kept at bay.

And it  means, too, that we are safe from judgments,  those coming from others, and also from ourselves. If we are not safe, then we are not free to explore, to allow curiosity to pull us in unexpected directions and insights to arise in our awareness.

Holding space means we can do the soul work we are called to do.

Photo Credit: ©Andrea Friedmann

Photo Credit: ©Andrea Friedmann