I could drive myself crazy finding “the little things” in life. The synchronicities, the little bits of magic that lie under the surface. I just can’t get enough. Like the journal I finished this morning; unearthed a few weeks ago when I did my autumn closet clean out. It was unfinished (odd for me, but not at the same time.) the last entry was in 2022, a time when I was just realizing how much unknown was in store for me. The entry was a long letter to myself, saying goodbye to a few parts of me that no longer served the vision or path to which I was dedicated. It was both a promise and an invitation to my future self: keep letting go. The entry even ended with “until the next goodbye.” And so when I located the journal and read that last entry, I knew I was headed into another season of release. Still, reading that letter from three years ago hurt. I held my heart for her: she had little to no hope, but so much faith. Funny how that’s possible, right? Faith defies logic completely. But it is a level of truth I don’t think logic can reach.
And so as I journaled through my busiest season of business, my most abundantly minded time possibly ever, I pondered what I was ready to let go of this time around.
And in my pondering, I realized what I accomplished this month: saying goodbye to the thought that there ever needs to be more than there is right now. I’ve read for hundreds of lovely souls this month. Thousands if you count collective live readings on TikTok. The amount of times I have said the phrase “if it has to be forced it isn’t right,” is too many to count. But apparently that number was finally enough to solidify within me. The main themes have been flow over force, sink into the right now because it’s temporary, and if you’re experiencing a pause, then cherish it.
I also came to a beautiful realization over this wild and wonderful month (that isn’t even over yet!!) I’ve been feeling that my calling is in the micro work for a long time. But I haven’t been feeling totally ok about it until very recently. I feel a great importance over my journey. It doesn’t feel like a weight, but it does feel a like responsibility which I don’t take lightly. And yet my head has gotten caught up in the details about it. How can I make a great impact, when I don’t have any group programs? How can I foster community when I also want to put together custom coaching packages for each and every client? Many of these decisions were tied to money. I’ve been reminded this month what a successful business is. It’s a business that makes you feel like what you’re doing is positively impacting the world. It’s waking up and feeling purpose. It IS being energetically reciprocated for your effort and work. AND it is also the former. There is room for both, and there is magic everywhere. The micro work is medicine to me. And the past two weekends, offering 5 minute readings from a yurt in Sleepy Hollow, I was reminded that I don’t need three months with an individual to offer quality micro work. I just need 5 quality minutes, and to be so very rooted in the moment with them that they remain there with me.
I’m still overwhelmed with gratitude at the levels of vulnerability people have with me, mere moments after meeting. We just got married after twenty years. My mom passed away a year ago and it’s been really hard. I’m pregnant and I haven’t told anyone yet. What a gift. To be the space holder for these brave souls to have a few minutes of respite, be energetically free, to not have to ask if I have the capacity, to just spill. I’ve received lots of praise for my readings, but I am being so very honest when people thank me and I thank them right back. Because they have no idea how much validation and confirmation they give me by trusting and remaining open enough to be guided back to their own inner wisdom. The medicine I am meant to give is still being revealed to me, but for now I am rooted into the work that is in front of me, and if you’ve had a reading with me recently, know that the pleasure was all mine, truly.
The front of my journal has a quote on it. As I finished my last entry today and closed it, I read it for the first time in years. And it couldn’t be more fitting to end this with:
“Finding yourself” is not really how it works.
You aren’t a ten dollar bill in last winter’s coat pocket.
You are also not lost.
Your true self is right there, buried under cultural conditioning, other people’s opinions, and inaccurate conclusions you drew as a kid that became your beliefs about who you are.
“Finding yourself” is actually returning to yourself.
An unlearning, an excavation, a remembering who you were before the world got its hands on you.
May we each have this remembering. And so it is.