Monday Tarot Message: Come home to yourself

The journey of “coming into one’s own” is one of self-discovery, of seeing aknd knowing oneself authentically, the triumphant experience of receiving how it is to see ourselves, and be seen, for who we truly are. It reminds me of what Toko-pa Turner says in her book, Belonging:

Where you ache to be recognised, allow yourself to be seen.

This homecoming is a process of learning to see ourselves first. What we accept and learn to love in ourselves, we can then allow to be seen by the world. One does not simply arrive here, without doing the work of peeling back the layers that cover our authentic selves, innermost desires and potential. It requires uncovering growth by getting to the depths of all that holds us back, whether past hurt, trauma, wounds that need healing, self-limiting beliefs or simply a belief in lack. It inevitably requires us to move in ways that we are not comfortable with, and we can only find newness by moving towards the edge of that discomfort.

 

Venturing into this unknown involves a simultaneous discovery of desire within, and inner strength to follow through. Undoubtedly, you’ll find fear, grief, insecurity waiting for you there. But this gradual process of meeting all that you have hitherto protected yourself from, kept hidden, helps loosen the grip, acknowledge and see yourself in your wholeness.

Knowing yourself is no different to exercise. When we place incremental strain, stretch and wear and tear on our bodies/muscles, we encourage them to grow. Similarly, your personhood finds opportunity to grow through experiences outside the comfort zone. Through confronting your fears gradually, you also find the capacity to meet them. It’s a practice that is best done slowly, one day at a time, and even better under the careful guidance of an experienced professional who not only knows the ways of how to stretch and grow, but can hold your hand and take you through it.

Let’s be honest, these challenges may be daunting. To tread unexplored waters that have always been scary. It reminds us of all that we could lose, so we choose to stay and remain unchanged. But there is a price in staying, as much as there is in moving. And sometimes that price is the opportunity to come home to yourself.

One year ago: Things that have punched me right in the gut
Two years ago: Old selves
Three years ago: Afterglow
Five years ago: End of day

Old-new Instagram vibes

At the start of the year, I resurrected my old Instagram account from yonks ago, after a three years hiatus (during which I really looked down upon and curled my nose up at the idea of Instagram itself).

I’d say I’ve come full circle. And with good reason — the stuff I’ve saved for my written journal hahaha. I was spurred by the sense of having turning yet another corner, enjoying this new feeling of wholeness and being present in my being in this point in time, palpably shedding the need to hide parts of myself that I have so far, and wanting to just separate my work and life/word sharing a bit.

And so I’m back. But I wanted it to be new. So I archived the entirety of my old feed, and what an exercise it was. Scrolling back over 2k pictures, all the way back to 2012, when I first got on the platform.

It was like turning the pages of a life of an entirely different person. Fascinating and wonderous, the things I have done, the thoughts I have had, the stuff I have shared. It brought back vivid memories of events and experiences, many that are slowly receding and could have done with a jog back of this kind.

There were so many good memories! So many, many good times. Because let’s face it, I only shared the good times hahahaha.

In the past I found all the lightheartedness and play that I have longed for in the last few years of my life. And I felt a kindred spirit for the person I am today, once again sparking this facet of myself.

But it was painful seeing many of the pictures because it brought back equally vivid memories of experiences, events, holidays, meals, and so much more, shared with people no longer in my life. It felt like brief frames with a limited shelf life, snapshots of a time when I was blissfully unaware of who I was and who these poeople would eventually be to me. I truly believed — and this was so apparent in my words — that they were my people. It hurt to once again recollect how wrong I was. And how easily and badly I wanted to believe that.

I took some really really shit pictures. Both in terms of the complete lack of aesthetics, but also in terms of what was being photographed. AND WHY???

For many years in the beginning, I took some really shit pictures. Aesthetically terrible, but also shit in terms of content. Pictures that really needed no sharing. Pictures that possibly didn’t ever need to be taken. Reams of pictures that I looked at and went “why?

Later, especially in the last two years before I quit, when I started to really get into the aesthetic of picture taking/memory making itself, I took some really good pictures. Content-wise, still questionable, but at least they were beautiful pictures to see.

I consistently and continually wrote some seeeriously dorky captions. I probably thought I was really funny (and maybe some of it was, at the time), but from where I am today, I had an ache in my heart thinking of the person I was. There was a serious amount of posturing, and trying hard to be the person I was on Instagram I think what began as an accidental projection, continued into a moulding a convenient facade, and an active effort to maintain that image. Cool, casual, non-chalant. No matter that the reality of my life, especially the last 2-3 years before I left, was rife with upheaval that was far from cool, casual and non-chalant.

I felt a bit gob-smacked to see this in myself. It is something I was oblivious to back then, and have only known in varying degrees over the last three years since quitting Instagram. Yet, nothing made it hit home like revisiting my feed did.

That hurt. It’s an odd feeling, this. Hurting for an old version of yourself. In a way, there is so much distance and movement ahead, it feels like a faraway ghost of myself that I actually can’t relate to anymore. There is disbelief. But there is also an inherant connection, and almost a longing to quickly go back in time and soothe myself. The knowing of all that was going on in my life then is alive. And there is familiarity mixed up even in the distance and the disonance that the passage of time   creates.

***

I also massively, and I mean massively, culled my follow and follower list. So, some other observations and thoughts I had along the way:

Those who were voyeurs then, are voyeurs even now haha. I am personally very bored with that kind of Instagram that I was into back then. Looking at the lives of people. I have gradually growing bored in that format over the years, especially peeking into the lives of strangers who remain figments pieced together from a collection of pixels and our perceptions, but it has probably peaked and turned into an abject disinterest. There are a couple of people I follow in this category now because theyre seriously compelling in some way or the other. But just following someone for pictures of their cute baby, their furniture and decor ideas, their daily lunch plate — you get the drift — it is so, so boring.

I revisiting the old follow list I had, and my god there were SO MANY in this category. And it was interesting to see how many people I saw still into it.

I did some entirely unnecesary photo challenges like that godawful “FMSdaily prompt challenge”. UFFF, why why whyyy did we do those things, and why did nobody tell us how awful our pictures were? I posted one too many terrible pictures in the effort to finish those daily challenges.

I followed some seriously problematic people. Seeeriously problematic. I guess it’s a sign of what I have learned, and how I have grown/changed in the years since. My politics and my sense of the ideas that shape my world are definitely very different, than they were back then. It made me slightly uncomfortable to see some familiar names following people I wouldn’t dream of following now. I had to bite back and reflect on my judgement here.

Some people that I followed for their cute baby, now have two. Some distant acquaintances who were single are now married and have babies. Why is everyone having babies, what’s going on, what happened in this pandemic year?

My ideas of so many things are just so different now. Fitness, food, art, aesthetics. The handles I followed then based on my interest in these things are so different form the handles I follow now. I have next to no food on my feed today, I have some fitness, but it’s of a very different kind from the handles I followed back then. There is a lot of art, comics, and illustrators, but again of a very different style and content. It was fun to see what has changed, and how much.

I obsessed over every little thing I cooked, believing it was an accomplishment. If people told me back then how stupid it was, or how unnecessary, contrived and self-obsessed it was, I wouldn’t have taken it well. I should have stuck to my food blog, where I did a half decent job of documenting the food I enjoyed and cooked. There was absolutely no need to put a really bad pictrue of every little thing I ate or cooked on my Instagram. UGH. Terrible self-obsession. I thought everything I cooked was gorgeous enough to be photographed, which is seriously a joke.

I believed I was very self-aware and honest on my social media. And maybe I was, to a large degree. But looking back, and through my feed three years on, I saw so much lies. So much conspicuous posturing of the kind I loathed seeing in others.

If there is one thing I know for sure (and I try and not articulate too many conclusive, sweeping statements of this kind these days) it is this: I am ordinary. I am small. I am not special. Just like every one else.

So it was such a cringe fest seeing some of the posts, especially those on days that were truly miserable, or when something really forgettable happened, but I chose to post something entirely different to distract from it and to lure myself into the belief that there was something inherently special about me and my life.

What a ride.

Two years ago: Solo Saturday night
Three years ago: Obscured by clouds (Coonoor, 2017)
Four years ago: Inconsequential posts you really don’t need to read
Five years ago: R&R

Monday Tarot Message: On balance

About two years ago, deep in my efforts to “find balance,” I realised there was nothing balanced about my pursuit, since I was chasing a very fixed (also borrowed/aspirational) idea of what “balance” is, and I punished myself for every inconsistency. How could I possibly find balance without a balanced approach to begin with? (LOLZ)

Temperance calls to the fore a soft, intuitive balance. This is a card that I believe is an apt summation of the entire tarot deck itself in which we see the emotional (cups), material (pentacles), spiritual (wands), intellectual (swords) worlds within us always in flow, intermingling and inter-twining. Life feels balanced when we can move with, rather than against, the influences and interplay between them. The deck essentially provides visuals for when the various aspects of our being may feel off kilter — indicating which aspect we need to see/hear/pay attention to/care for — in order to bring ourselves back to balance.

Perhaps balance then, is about understanding that “being balanced” itself looks different for different people, rather than aspiring to a fixed one-size-fits-all notion of it. It is about noticing that when one aspect feels “off-balance” it’s likely that something within is asking for attention and care. Tending to it will involve listening, rather than admonishing it for its needs.

A balanced approach to self-awareness requires understanding the interplay between the various parts that make us whole. There will be times where the emotional will be louder/more demanding than the physical, or the spiritual may appear at loggerheads with the cognitive. Maybe leaning hevaily into the physical is your modus operandi, and there comes a point in life where the emotional or spiritual will rear it’s head asking to be noticed. Working with this interplay will mean looking at each aspect in context to the others, as it may be coming up for you.

This ebb and flow is natural and human. Knowing this is step 1. We can then get good at recognising when one of the aspects are in flux, and what they’re asking for. This is self-awareness, and it enables us to respond appropriately. Flowing in tune with our inner-needs that are ever-changing (and demanding!) as opposed to having external goals that are mostly fixed. We can allow ourselves variance and opportunities to grow by listening keenly, being in tune with each of our aspects and understanding what drives us. And we’re more likely to find balance, in this way.

One year ago: Full moon, moon shine
Two years ago: Deep-dive
Three years ago: I have my books and my poetry to protect me
Four years ago: Happier: perpetual WIP 
Five years ago: This and that

Year-end feels (#4)

Newsflash and new learning: I don’t have to pause life for healing, or pause healing to live life.

Real life is mixed up, often messy and up and down. As is healing. The two can (and should) go hand in hand. They complement each other and evolve somewhat simultaneously.

I lived in hiding, especially keeping the “healing story” of my life under wraps, for some years. Very few people knew I was studying family constellations or that I had been reading tarot cards, until I started to offer it at the start of last year.

Since then, it’s been a slow coming-out of hiding, as I have worked on opening up other aspects of my life, stepping up and owning parts that I’ve kept hidden either from shame or fear. And sometimes guilt. I’m only just getting comfortable with all that I am at this moment in time. And all that I have been before. There is contentment about where I am today, and excitement about where I can be in the months to come.

It seems funny and interesting that it’s taken me so long to really believe how the two — my personal journey and the rest of my life itself — intertwine and meander like a braid, one influencing the other and contributing to make a whole. Seems most basic and obvious, and yet it has eluded me for so long now. But it is such a small, big difference.

One year ago: In with the new
Two years ago: Taking it slow
Three years ago: Onwards and upwards
Five years ago: Move more

Year-end feels (#2)

Fear and panic is contagious. But so is peace, rest and calm.

Of course it took a year of abject loneliness and severe lack of intimacy to realise this. I’ve known this in theory, as the Polyvagal Theory that suggests our nervous systems are primed for connection, and comes equipped with the capacity to reach calm states through “co-regulation” simply by sensing and responding to calm states in the other. Through non verbal cues, like breath, and social cues like smiling.

2020 has been the loneliest time of my entire life. And it took me months to accept how much it hurt. As someone who virtue signalled a lot (if you’ve read this blog long enough, you’ll know) about the privilege and joy of solitude, I really hated and struggled a lot through it. To a point where it got physically painful and manifested in really heartbreaking ways.

Yes, a lot of the time I need quiet and stillness from solitude. But this year, I realised that I feel dead without connection. It is what we are born for. Community, conversation, camaraderie, collectiveness. And as I sought it in virtual spaces like yoga, zoom workouts, many, many, many more video calls than I have ever made (both for work and socially), shared drinks and food and stimulants across a screen, in cooking, eating, housekeeping and cuddling with my homebodies, I also settled into the grief of it all. Accepting that this is also a part of this life that I cannot escape. A dance between retreat and rest, and connection and action that has its ups and downs.

And as always, the place of calm returned in the middle ground. In allowing silence and retreat, but also venturing out when I needed to. In not feeling ashamed to ask for the time and attention of people I love when I needed it, in not feeling like I am letting my tendency for solitude down by wanting connection, or vice versa. In dropping labels like needy and hyperactive.

I can do both. I can have both. I can be both. I can trust myself to know when I need what. And they can both contribute to my calm and peacefulness.

One year ago: Coke Studio love
Two years ago: Relax, take it easy

Going under

It’s safe for me to let the waves that come, touch me. As they can. And they will.

One year ago: Love and belonging in politically charged times
Two years ago: Find my direction magnetically
Four years ago: Too much nature ho gaya

Monday Tarot Message: Pay attention

Much of the energy that guides our lives is born from what we choose to consciously and unconsciously cultivate through focus, attention, intention and action.

Great idea then, to build the capacity to bring intention to several aspects of our life. To actions. To thoughts and behaviour. To the inner workings of our being.

Socrates said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” Rather than living a life under a magnifying glass, obsessively examining every little act, with no room for spontaneity and lightness, this is a call to have a reflexive mechanism to check-in with ourselves. As a means to build practices and habits that hone a life of mindfulness and intention/attention.

When we make attentiveness a habit, we can understand ourselves, our motivations and needs better. This brings ease around accepting why experiences impact us the way the do. Why some endure while others are cut short seemingly before their time. Why some trigger specific emotions that either liberate or dominate us. And more importantly, how we may move ahead from each of these instances.

Thinkers, philosophers and spiritual teachers have spoken of the power of “Attention” since time immemorial. Ancient mystical practices, meditative techniques, breath work, yoga all teach us to “pay attention”. More relevant now than ever, as we live in an Attention Economy, is the need to examine what has our attention.

Where focus goes, energy flows.
What you choose, lives and grows.
What you allow, endures.
How you live matters.

Two years ago: Turning all the night time into the day
Four years ago: Mini breakthrough

Look up

For a lifetime hinged so hard on figuring things out, sorting, fixing, being on top of it all, and investing so many hours of my life towards this, it took an oddball of a year like this one to discover the unparalleled power of not knowing. Today I looked up momentarily, while walking back home, and I realised it absolutely couldn’t have been any other way.

One year ago: Stop this train
Four years ago: One number mini rant about Instagram

Tarot: Meeting disappointment

Another wild card from this wild deck> Maybe the last one for this week, and a fitting add-on to the theme around embracing change that’s ongoing since the start of the week.

One of the reasons we find it easier to reject change is because it is difficult to accept the very real possibility of disappointment that any change can bring. This disappointment rests in the widening gap between what a potential future holds and the version of it we may have dreamed up in our minds.

This gap can make our desires feel like they’re too good to come true. And so we avoid moving towards change, to keep safe from that disappointment.

In truth, reality is often disappointing. Sometimes mildly, sometimes severely. To continually protect from disappointment is to sign up for a life of no movement. It could be that your imagined reality is an inaccurate version of the future waiting for you. A future you will not know unless you step forward, towards it.

Instead, ask what you need to help you feel your way through disappointment in the service of moving ahead.

One year ago: Alive, again
Two years ago: Set the controls for the heart of the sun
Four years ago: Holiday reading

Tarot: Embracing change

Busting out a Deviant Moon Tarot deck D gifted me two years ago when I was a wee little tarot newbie. It’s taken a while to get to using it because it’s so deliciously, wildly different from Rider Waite deck. But I’ve been inspired the last few weeks, and here I am. Since I have been using it in sessions in the recent past and fiddling with it in my own time, I thought it might be a good time to pick up this thread I started and immediately forgot about. Oh well.

So here’s a mid-week pull on embracing change.

It’s an aspect that shows up so, so often in many sessions. And this year, it has been a question on everybody’s mind, considering the overt and covert change that has enveloped us all: How do I move on and accept all this change?

Plus it ties in nicely with yesterday’s tarot message for the week too.

Change, whether big or small, always brings about doubt and uncertainty. Parts of us that are prone to feeling trepidation and worry might be activated at this time. Doubt about the possibility of something not working out, fear about inherent uncertainty, premature grief about the loss that will inevitably follow are natural by products of change.

This is a reminder that all of this is normal and perfectly okay. Make space for it rather than fight it. See it all rather than power through it. Ease it by asking: what do I need (and how can I get those resources in a safe way) so I don’t have to shrink away but can keep moving anyway?

Four year ago: One night in Bangkok

Monday Tarot Message: Dealing with change and the new(normal)

“Normal, just for a bit.” How many times have you said or heard this in the past few months? It got me thinking about our fixation with normal. It stems from the human need for certainty and predictability as markers of safety. Even in the face of abject uncertainty, here we are still wanting normal.

Today’s card is an invitation to look at the new, for what it is: new. Something never been before. A chance for a departure from the norm. Even as the times continue to be dismal and hopeless, every day there are changes that present new opportunities big and small. Our fixation with a static idea of “normal” blocks that out.

Changing this requires turning within. To unmuddy our minds, understand the reasons why we cling to the old, what fears keep us from embracing the new, what stories we tell ourselves in order to stay, unmoving. In the process we may affirm our intuition and inner wisdom that has been there all along. While the world may churn every now and then, that voice can provide solidity (certainty) and calm (solace) that we look for outside of ourselves.

Self reflection and sharpening your intuition will make you aware of rigidity that could do with softening up, or fluidity that could do with some focus and channelling. It strengthens our ability to change our thinking. It offers new ways of thinking, new ways of getting comfortable with what life is offering in the now. New possibilities. New normals.

I’ve turned to Tarot more this year than ever before, looking for solace, perspective and calm. If there’s one resounding lesson I have received over and over and over, it is this: every single day of life is made up of change and flux, and what I need more than anything else is to continually get comfortable with that. I see this not only in the messages I receive, but also in studying and understanding the very structure of this deck of cards. Nothing stays, everything changes, from one card to the next. There are no guarantees, no fixed answers.

What ideas of normal are you holding out for? Is it holding you back? Reflect on what is passing you by while you wait. What do you need so you can ease up and embrace what is, instead of waiting for what you’d like it to be.

One year ago: <3
Two years ago: Do you need me before I fade away?
Three years ago: Acceptance is a small quiet room
Four years ago: One day in Bangkok (or day one in Bangkok)

Love yourself

When they said love yourself, what did they really mean?

Did they account for the times when one feels utterly shitty, inadequate, useless and terrible?

How can I learn to love parts that I never have, parts that I didn’t even know I had boxed in, and some more parts that various people told me are simply not good enough? I’m trying everyday, as I sit with many of the terrible, dark, seemingly insurmountable facets of myself that are showing up lately.

I sit with it. Simply. And I try (and sometimes fail) to merely bear witness. To watch the comings and goings of my own feelings towards all that’s coming to the surface. It has meant accepting with grace, the contradictions that I hold, that are beginning to stare me in the face. To find gentlessness rather than judgement in viewing it. To slowly dismantle the heavy dualities I still sometimes impose on myself that are beginning to wear me down. To go easy on how I view past transgressions. To dig deep and find a capacity for softness where I have piled layer upon hard layer. But the hardest thing of them all has been to resist the urge to do a damn thing about any of this.

The only job I feel called upon at this point in my life is to embrace it all. To view it, own it, accept it as a part of who I am. To give myself the permission to be a bit more human everyday. To be real about the average, ordinary, imperfectly-perfectly person who doesn’t have it all figured out, and is still getting on okay, somehow. That has been the hardest thing of all. And I sit here, watching that too.

I call bluff on the love yourself  clarion call I felt so drawn to in my younger years. I’m switching this around now, to see yourself. It’s okay not to love it all. Because as long as the goal is love it, I’m going to be only looking for the parts that feel palatable and easy to accept. And I am hungry to learn how to be here for all of it. For all of me.

One year ago: Movie misgivings
Two years ago: But if you try sometimes you might find you get what you need
Three years ago: What coming home feels like: the sweet taste of acceptance

Expansion

Everything in nature invites us constantly to be what we are. We are often like rivers: careless and forceful, timid and dangerous, lucid and muddied, eddying, gleaming, still.

— Gretel Ehrlich

Through the storms of the weeks past, I have felt, noticeably, the need to again and again be in the presence of expanses bigger and larger than myself. The sea, many, many trees, amongst the fields and under an expansive sky.

The need, I think, has been to feel small and my size again because I felt very drawn out of my space, ballooning with the ongoing challenges and having them feel very, very insurmountable.

In the presence of something unmoving, larger, non-judgemental, I feel okay. I feel alright. I feel enough. And I feel alive and present again.

They call nature the ultimate witness because it stays, unchanging — the waves coming and going rhythmically, the sun setting and rising again and again, the trees going through their relentless lifecycles over and over — and un-opinionated. It speaks in silence, and reminds me often to just be, as I am. A quiet reassurance of being surrounded by and being in the presence of exactly that which is within me. Equanimity, sufficiency, calm.

It is an experience that I find hard to express in words, but is probably the closest thing to a spiritual experience I have ever had.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt this in a temple or any other religious space, but I felt it in Manali last year, in the giant wooded park we picniced in, in Paris. And I felt it again and again this time in Goa by the sea.

It induces a sense of expansion within my chest. And when I tune in and really feel it, it makes me want to sit up, puff my chest up, and feel my ribs part. Making space for that something. Expansion, I know now requires so much the ability to move beyond a dualistic bent of mind. It is such a struggle, but this is the invitation at this point in my life. To make room for a spacious, all-encompassing, gentle intuitive approach. To take my contemplations and inner knowing and allow it to flow into my life.

One eyar ago: Reunited
Two years ago: Maybe I’ll get it right this time

Gentle reminder

It’s been the kind of day that made me realise sometimes all I need is to get out without procrastinating, be with something larger outside of myself, get some fresh air, breathe, move my limbs, gab my heart out, and forget about my feelings for a while.

One year ago: I’m eaassyyy
Two years ago: It’s a lazy afternoon
Four years ago: Okaybye

Monday Tarot Message: Fear is not your enemy

Monday Tarot Messages return, after a brief hiatus (which has ended up seeing another unplanned hiatus within the intended hiatus — hiatus inception, if you will!). I took a break to focus on some constructive plans and productivity for where I want to take my work with Tarot and Constellations in the coming months, but life had other plans and I ended up laptop-less, in Goa and was blissfully forced to really STOP and take a break. So no, I didn’t really fuel the plans to “move ahead” but somehow I feel refuelled, if that makes sense. And I’m attributing this sudden burst of energy to do this NOW, on a Tuesday, rather than wait for next Monday, to that refuelling.

I know it’s Tuesday, but these days I’m learning to strike when the inspiration visits, and not wait for it to arrive on schedule. This feels like a come back, and I’m aware I have a lot of catching up to do. But I feel ready. For one, I have a new laptop. Second, it feels like the dark clouds have parted and some blue skies are showing through. And at this point, I’ll take it. With both hands.

So let’s pretend it’s Monday, shall we?

***

Fear often brings a sense of inadequacy. A feeling of not being good enough when we don’t push through, or we don’t make it at something we wanted, or that someone may have wanted of us.

Popular adages that ask us to quell fear and push on are all very well. Because it is true: moving beyond fear and out of our comfort zones is a vital step in growth. But, there is something to be said about timing, about listening so keenly to your intuition and knowing when it is just right.

It’s important to remember that fear is also a necessary mechanism of self-preservation. It is a feedback system that guides how we should proceed, in which direction, and when we should stay. To begin to understand the nuances requires befriending fear. To accept it, welcome it, understand it. To drop our stories and judgement around it.

To understand the difference between when fear is holding you back, and when it is actually a vital signal that it is not time, not safe yet, requires gentleness. A soft approach to understanding yourself and where your fears come from. When we soften up, it gets easier to accept that fear is useful. That fear has a place.

This process may ask for patience and humility of you, to accept that when we respond with fear and choose to stay; sometimes, that is the right choice. That we are not lesser for it. Then, we can move past the judgement — and that sense of inadequacy.

Moving forward may not always the best option, and fear reminds us of this fact. That sometimes we need to slow down, take a break, see if there’s a deeper lesson we are missing, to check if we need to change course altogether.

Knowing when not to moving forward doesn’t mean you are weak, or useless, or a wuss. It might mean you have learned to honour and listen to your inner voice.

Fear indicates when certain choices could bring potential futures that our systems are not ready for as yet. We can ease in to this growth by moving at a pace that is comfortable and sometimes guarded. We can do the work to build internal safety that allows fear to rest, slowly and over time, by really welcoming fear in a way that helps us learn what we need in order to feel safe, healthy and to move forward.

There is no rush, and fear is not your enemy. Can you make it your friend?

Four years ago: Reading list