Esalen

In a museum in LA, I stand in front of a large mirror contemplating the question imprinted across it in bold letters: If you’re so successful, how come you feel like such a fake?

I am a reflection in that mirror. A shadow of my former self.

I’ve been operating from this Performer self for so long, it takes deep inspection to know when my actions are based in fear or in love.

For so long, I have been bent on controlling outcomes.

But now, I know that attempt is in vain.

Control is an illusion.

I walk in the morning mist with trust, dress down to my essence and hold space there.

Let go of what I think I'm supposed to be.

Let go of the life I thought I was supposed to live.

Choose to rest, exhausted from running and numbing.

It’s become unbearably tiring to hold up the masks.

I am heavy but also untethering from the rational world that no longer makes sense.

I let the breaking waves cleanse me,

And bid a humble farewell to the many lives and deaths of me.

I am free of all the shoulds and should nots.

I hold my heart gently in my hands and let it whisper its true secrets and dreams.

Then listen for eternity, until the silence speaks to me.

Only then, I let my intuition answer.

As I listen and imagine my path forward, is it easy to breath?

Or do I hold my breath and feel my chest tighten?

Does the image lighten my psyche?

Or does it make me feel the faintest heaviness?

I let these be my gentle guides on the ever-evolving journey of becoming.