All along, I have been a writer. Since the stories I wrote in kindergarten to the creative poems through my early years and the darker ones through my teen years. I remember myself as always devouring books and being a lover of words. More than anything else, language and words, reading and writing, have been a deep and essential part of who I am.
And so I come to conclude that among all the parts of me, the writer is the strongest. If all else was lost, for survival, my writing would have to remain or I would lose such a deep part of my soul that the precious light might not survive. And what is writing if not a messenger of the soul?
These words, these ideas, do not come from my physical body. My body allows them to be carried out of my depths (the depths that exist beyond my bodily self). The ability to physically write is what carries them out of some unseen space.
The purest and truest ideas that float to the page do just that – they seem to float there, as if they appear on the page but were already in existence. As if all they needed was a home and I was able to give them that, through the gift of my being able to physically write.
Perhaps above all else, if I say what I am, I am a writer. The coaching, the yoga, being a wife and a friend and a mama and a citizen of the world, are all borne of this foundational existence of writer within me. The writer self holds a curiosity from which all else unfolds.
I continue to give space for this to grow and become strong because perhaps such a great part of my purpose in this world is to be the conduit for the ideas that honor my being by coming through me. The most holy and sacred thing I can do is to be open wide in heart, to trust, to have deep awareness so I am able to pick up on the clues that guide me, as if life is a treasure hunt and it is my highest and most important job to find these treasures, dust them off, and share them with the trust and hope that even one person sees a glimmer of the treasure and is moved one step closer to his or her own truth and power, to his or her own ability to wake up to what has been brewing and taking root most strongly since as early as can be remembered.
Together then, we begin and continue even through the darkest moments to shine our light, to let it grow, to overcome the darkness just as the sun does each day as it rises strong, overcoming the darkness of the night. It does so knowing that the darkness will come again. It trusts itself to once again rise because that is its nature, the deepest part of its essence that can never be taken away.
So too do we have that deepest essence within us that allows us to weather even the most destructive of storms, with strength and with trust. Those moments when we think all that is possible is for us to fall apart and yet we see ourselves somehow standing there strong and centered, making our way through raging winds and hailstorms, and even though we may feel battered and spent and never quite the same when we get to the other side, we see that we are somehow still standing, strong and centered. Perhaps we then collapse under the weight of our drained energy and weep, full of gratitude for the survival of a deep and tumultuous, dark and defining storm.
And so we carry on, our foundation made stronger somehow. We come to see in fact how rooted we are, how even the strongest forces trying to uproot us cannot take away the essence that we keep locked away. And so we let it out any way we know how – through words, through music, through living our soul’s purpose as we shine our light each day, making life shine again. We are the sun.