Letting go and Letting Grace

Over the last few months, I have been in a place of deep questioning. Reevaluating my work and my life and my purpose. Not sure how to show up in this noisy and saturated and confusing world anymore. I have been feeling increasingly uninspired, doubtful and resistant to playing the game. Even though I have been going through the motions on the outside, inside, I felt like a little girl pounding her fists on the floor and crying out, “I don’t wanna!” Somehow in all the busy busy of parenting and work, I had lost myself and I really wanted to find my way back. 

Desperately craving clarity, insight, passion and inspiration, I signed up for a retreat with my beloved teacher, Chameli Ardagh, in California. I arrived lost but hopeful. 

For many years now, my time in this women’s circle has never failed to nourish and uplift me. New possibilities always open. I see more clearly, breath more fully, love more deeply. 

The funny thing is that this time, instead of walking away feeling as if I have rocket boosters of energy propelling me to shine bigger and brighter, I am leaving stripped down and tender. No longer wanting to hide but still up to my neck in the vulnerable process of confessing all the places I have strayed from my truth. Facing all the ways I have sold out. Trusted outside advice over my own knowing. Compromised to the point of collapse. 

It’s been sobering to remember that sometimes coming back into alignment means letting go. I can feel some big changes are on the horizon as I continue to give up more of the things I thought I should be and experiment with leaning back into the messy imperfection of who I actually am. Unmasked and fumbling. Resilient and committed. Broken open. Surrendered. Listening.

I still don’t know exactly what this will look like but I am committed to staying rooted in my devotion to the divine feminine. Honoring her by taking my hands off the wheel and my foot of the brakes so she can live through me. However small or spectacular that may be.

Kirsten Warner