I talked to this woman a while ago.
We sat down on the couch and she sighed.
“What is your sighing about?” I ask her.
She is angry, bitter and hurt. Right down to the bone.
She feels she lost her future, business-wise, so unexpectedly.
She made that decision herself, intuitively, instinctively.
For a while she had been in a shock, in survival mode, and then the mourning started.
Together with a wide range of emotions.
She tells me her side of the story of what happened.
I can sense the rawness in it and her deepest pain.
It’s right under the surface.
I can also see she’s a strong woman and that this wasn’t the first time she dealt with such a pain.
Her drive keeps her going and she is working on a new future.
She has a lot of ideas, creativity flows around. Renewed and maybe even more than ever.
Her vital energy comes and goes, she tells me, so she needs to be patient which is challenging for her.
I guess she’s only human.
It’s about being patient with her process of mourning, unravel her lessons, healing her heart and her process of creating something new.
Sometimes she feels like she’s holding back, like the ideas cannot come to life. Yet.
“What are you really afraid of?” I ask her.
She takes a deep breath and she tells me that many people think she is talented.
Talented in more than one way.
They have no doubt she will do something great with those talents.
I’m deeply afraid I cannot manifest my talents. That I won’t be able to live my greatness.
That I cannot fulfill the promise people see in me and which I can see in myself. I’m afraid life passes by and I will fail. Fail in living the best life I can. Fail in being the wonderful human being I can be. Just fail.”
We went silent for a while.
Then I ask her to close her eyes.
“Please come back to yourself.
Let the tension and emotions flow away.
Relax more and more.
Sink in yourself, in your body until you reach a certain point of stillness and inner peace. Take your time”, I tell her.
“Maybe it feels like a calm stream, or maybe like a stormy ocean.
Just go the core essence of whatever you’re sensing in that spot.
Then give the part of you who is afraid to fail in life a name.
Invite her to your stillness.
Explain to her what this space is about.
Be there together.
Then it is time for her to leave.
Hug her for a moment and say goodbye.
Watch her walk into the light.
What did you tell her?
When you’re ready, open your eyes.”
She stretches a bit and sighs again. The sighing is one of closure.
“I explained to her that this sacred place of stillness is tender, imperfectly perfect, safe and inviting”, she tells me.
“It’s able to bear her, with all her fears, doubts and joys at present.
This sacred space is all that matters, and full of life. Expanding and protecting at the same time.
Everything she believes that is unfair, that should have been different, doesn’t matter.
This is your starting point, I told her, your returning point. No matter what.
I felt relieved during my explanation to her, as I knew my life is not about accomplishments and proving myself, my worth.
Everyone can replace me or try to, ignore me, but that doesn’t mean I do not exist.
That does not mean I need to hold back, make myself invisible and small.
And I most certainly cannot replace myself.
What my life is about, what needs to be done, when and how will reveal itself.
Step by step, naturally, effortless and at its own pace.
After the talk and meditation with this woman, I suddenly felt it was time to do a tough work chore I had been procrastinating for a while.
To make a next step in getting things aligned.
After all, this woman I talked to, is me.