An inner (and annoying) knowing hit me: I had to leave the home and city I was living in and let go of the man I was holding onto. I deeply did not want to be without a home⦠and without this dear friend and lover who had stood by my side in my darkest times.
But I also knew I had to let go. I literally felt it was blocking my flow.
Without knowing the βwhatβs nextβ, I started packing boxes. Reluctantly but with conviction, I ended my lease, found a tenant who would be a zillion times happier there than I could ever be, and even more reluctantly, surrendered to the unknown.
This led to me living in a hotel and experiencing several βwtf happened hereβ moments as I watched my bank account rapidly decrease.
One evening, when I was on the phone with the man in question, my phone died during the conversation, and no matter how hard I tried, it wouldn't turn back on. It stubbornly broke down. The hotelβs Wi-Fi was down and would be for the next few days.
It felt like life wasnβt just asking me to be offlineβit was forcing me. To be and sit with myself.
At first, I felt nothing but an βOh no, this isnβt happening.β
But once the panic subsided, I felt a calmness I hadn't experienced in a long time, allowing all that I was pushing down to come up.
I also made a firm decision that I was ready for the things I had not been allowing into my life until then.
That evening, I created a course I had been wanting to for two years within an hour.
I almost instantly sold the first one when I put it online the next day.
The next day, I borrowed a bike from the hotel and ventured to the nearest city to get my phone fixed. Having no sense of direction, I just gave it my best shot.
On my way, I passed an art gallery.
I decided to prolong the inevitable of fixing the phone and went in. It was the coolest art gallery I ever visited. I fell in love with many pieces.
While chatting with the owner and eating a piece of his birthday cake, my eye fell on a large photo of a ballerina graciously bent over.
βI like that one,β I said.
βThat one is called Surrender,β he told me.
So, I smiled, surrendered my way into the city, got my phone fixed, and after some bumps and humps, life started to graciously guide me into new directions in the days that followedβ¦
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I would lover for you to join me on this messy human yet divine soul path.
If there is one thing I learned, itβs that we are in this together. Once I decided to let go of the things I thought were keeping me safe, not only people but life showed up for me. People showed up for me.
I felt carriedβnot from a place of disempowerment or βI cannot do this by myselfβ. It was an empowered way. By people who reflected my strength back to me.
How do I want you to join me?
I am going to bring us together. Like I have done in the past. And move us into action that is uniquely needed for all of us.
Now for those stubborn souls with fire in their bones. That want to walk their own path. With a heart that wants to lead. Even when itβs not sure where itβs going.
I will invite us to share all of ourselvesβthe bold parts and the messy parts. I will write for us the words that want to emerge from our collective. Sometimes a poem, maybe a story, sometimes spoken word, and sometimes a visualization. We will create a space where all is welcome, because only in such a space can our fullest selves emerge. I will share the continuation of my own unfolding story,
I will also infuse those who want with some simple starting energy. Because no matter how powerful being and being with whatever is, the most powerful interaction with life comes from our actions. Not the forced kind, the gentle strong kind.
This is simply calling to be done. Not asking for your money, asking for your presence.
Which is invaluable.
In the next couple of days I will reach out to people and ask them to join me.
But if you feel called, message me.
And remember:
β
There is only an ever unfolding path.
Trust that the current of life
takes you where you need to be.
Patiently step into it powerfully
and follow the gentle current of your soul.
β
Art by Gert Kist β€οΈ