What did I learn today? Lessons on the Journey to Unconditional Self Love

  This morning, I found myself thinking about the difference between preparation and control. At first glance, they can look remarkably similar. Both involve planning. Both involve thinking ahead. Both involve wanting something to go well. But they come from very different places. Today is the first day of the workshop I am facilitating. Government officials. Private sector representatives. Speeches to begin the day. Workshops to carry us through the rest of it. One facilitator. Me. If I am honest, I feel nervous. The subject matter is not something I have spent years immersed in. I am not the technical expert in the room. I am the person responsible for guiding discussions, creating space for meaningful dialogue and helping people move toward outcomes that matter. And that feels like a big responsibility. As I sat with my thoughts this morning, I realised that life was once again offering me feedback. The preparation is mine. The control is not. I can prepare. I can review my note...

  T his morning, I walked to the beach before sunrise. Being in St Lucia for ten days, I intend to take advantage to being within walking distance of the beach. The sea was calm, the sunrise was stunning. I met a lobster fisherman we talked a while about his morning catch There was nothing dramatic about the moment. No grand revelation. Just a simple reminder that life often teaches us through ordinary encounters if we are paying attention. I am currently  here with the intention of facilitating two days of meetings with government and private sector officials, then to meet and discuss the project with stakeholders. The goal is important: to help shape strategies that can improve access to financing for women and young people involved in green initiatives and forest products. On paper, it sounds exciting. In reality, it is also stretching me. I have never facilitated a meeting quite like this before.   My  My schedule feels different. For perhaps the first time ...

  I have been thinking today about the art of not being defensive. I reckon it starts with the intention not to be defensive in the first place. Not with a strategy or a communication technique, but with a willingness to stay open when something in us wants to shut down, justify, explain, or protect. I was in a conversation today where I felt my actions were being questioned. Almost immediately, I had what felt like an out-of-body experience. I could see myself in real time. I heard myself defending my position, jumping into the conversation, interrupting, explaining, clarifying, proving. I was watching myself defend what I did and what I said. And then I chuckled. Not because the conversation was funny, but because I suddenly saw what was really happening. My desire to win, my desire to keep the peace, my desire to be liked, respected, understood, and seen as reasonable had quietly taken over the driver's seat. The interesting thing is that I was not being unreasonable. I was not ...

  Do you believe that you're fine as long as you're still functioning? As long as you're showing up to work, paying your bills, getting the degrees, raising the children, building the business, attending the meetings and ticking the boxes? Somewhere along the way, many of us were taught that functioning equals healing. That if we could just achieve enough, earn enough, accomplish enough, love enough, we could outrun whatever hurt us. But when did we come to believe that the degrees, the accolades, the money, the marriage, the promotions and the success would undo the damage caused by trauma? When did we decide that proving to the world that we have "made it" was the same thing as being whole? The truth is, we live in a society that rewards what can be seen. Success is measured by external markers. We celebrate titles, possessions, achievements and milestones. Capitalism has taught us to produce, perform and progress. It rarely pauses to ask how we feel inside. Yet...

  "The quiet, powerful work of unclenching." November arrives as an invitation. it invites us into the sacred practice of letting go. For a long time, I misunderstood what letting go meant. I thought it was giving up. I thought it signaled defeat, weakness, or a lack of commitment. As though releasing my grip somehow cancelled out all the effort, energy, love, and determination I had invested. What I have come to learn is something very different. Letting go is not giving up. Letting go is a conscious choice to trust. To trust the God of your understanding. To trust the work you have already done. To trust the seeds you have already planted. To trust that after doing all that you can humanly do, there comes a moment when holding on harder no longer serves the journey. There is courage in that moment. There is wisdom in recognizing the difference between persistence and attachment. Sometimes we hold on because we care deeply. Sometimes we hold on because we are afraid. Afraid ...

  "When was the last time you allowed yourself to rest in the unknown around you and to befriend it?" These questions from author Lalah Delia  pulled me into a reflective state. The truth is, feeling safe is important to me. And if I am honest, befriending the unknown has been a process. A real process. When I think about my relationship with the unknown, I realize that in some areas of my life I have not been walking alongside it. I have been running from it. Nowhere has that been more apparent than in intimate relationships. Many of us have been programmed to react to the unknown rather than respond to it. We meet uncertainty with fear, urgency, overthinking, controlling, predicting, fixing. We convince ourselves that if we can just gather enough information, anticipate every outcome, or protect ourselves from disappointment, we will finally be safe. But safety does not always come from certainty. Sometimes safety comes from trusting ourselves in uncertainty. That has been ...