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

“ My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humor, and some style.”   Maya Angelou I picked up one of my old journals this week—something I don’t often do anymore. I've started letting go of them when the pages run out, a quiet rite of passage, I suppose. A moment to say: I’ve learned from this, now it’s time to move forward. But this time, I was searching. A line, a moment, something I scribbled while half-listening to a podcast and reaching for the nearest page. What I found were two questions written in my own hand: - What do you think about the most? - What would you do with your life if you didn’t have to pay bills? They stopped me. I’ve been feeling rudderless lately. Moving, but not quite arriving. Doing, but not fully being. These questions didn’t demand answers—they invited me home. What I Think About Most? I think about being healthy. I think about showing up kind. I think about being great—not perfor...

The deeper you go spiritually, the less impact the ego will have over you . Sadhiviji  There are moments when the truth sits quietly beside you, waiting to be acknowledged. I stumbled across a quote by Sadhviji that hit a little too close to home: If you believe that you're unworthy of love, you'll act in ways to ensure no one loves you. If you believe you're unworthy of abundance, you'll live in scarcity. If you believe you're not good enough, you'll ensure that whatever you do ends in failure My first instinct was resistance—“No way am I self-sabotaging!” But truth has a way of softening defenses. I sat with it, breathed through it, and stepped aside to ask: Am I responding from ego, or from truth? In hindsight, yes—there are decisions I’ve made that carried the fingerprints of fear, doubt, and lack. Not because I wanted to stay stuck, but because some part of me believed I was supposed to. Subconscious beliefs shape our patterns, and life, ever the mirror, re...

Choice is your greatest power. It is an even greater power than love, because you must first choose to be a loving person. Carolyn Myss There’s a moment, often missed, between thought and action—a sacred pause where our greatest authority lives. Choice is one of the most potent forces we possess. It is the quiet architect behind the life we live, the relationships we nurture, the truths we embody. Every choice—whether grand or subtle—holds power. And every choice carries consequence. When I slide into blaming others, to feeling like a victim, to throwing my hands in the air, I think about what choice did I make to contribute to where I am today.  What makes this even more astonishing is how often we choose unconsciously. We choose by habit, by reaction, by ancestral muscle memory. We choose from fear. From judgment. From ego. These choices, unnoticed as they may be, still create. They ripple outward, manifesting realities we may never have intended but must now account for. And whe...

  Grace is a muscle—I’m learning how to flex it. I used to think healing meant a life with no more challenges. That once I “got it right,” the hard stuff would vanish. But the real revelation—the one that gave me peace—was realizing that healing simply means I move through the challenges differently. With more courage. More patience. More calm. When that truth landed, I laughed out loud. All those moments I’d spent berating myself for missteps, not seeing that what I was actually building was discernment. What looked like failure was practice. What felt like chaos was the slow unfolding of wisdom. Now, life looks different. The government contract ended, and with it, most of my income. Old me might’ve spiraled—shame, panic, fear-based decisions. But this time, I feel something else. Concern, yes. But also clarity. I’m not scrambling, I’m listening. Asking for guidance. Giving myself space to respond instead of react. And here’s the beauty—I’m carrying this grace into my relationshi...

 You do not have to operate from a place of fear in the name of being ambitious - Rha Goddess  What comes up for you when someone calls you ambitious? That question, posed by author and soul coach Rha Goddess in her book Intentional Ambition, stopped me in my tracks. Was I offended? Appreciative? A little of both? I remembered telling a friend that someone we both knew was “quite ambitious.” I meant it as a compliment—someone willing to do whatever it took to get ahead. But now, I see how loaded that word can be.  Redefining Ambition Rha Goddess invites us to rethink ambition not as ruthless drive, but as a commitment to growth, thriving, and collective uplift. It’s not about sacrificing health, relationships, or integrity for success. It’s about aligning with purpose and honoring both self and community. This resonated deeply. For so long, ambition has been framed as a solo pursuit—climb the ladder, chase the goal, win at all costs. But what if ambition could be intenti...

  “ Wan­na fly, you got to give up the shit that weighs you down.”  Toni Morrison  Staying the course begins not with grand gestures, but with a whisper: This too shall pass. It is not mere endurance, but a conscious planting of perspective. This mindset becomes the soil—rich, fertile, and ready—for transformation. To stay the course is to become both resilient and receptive. Feedback doesn't bruise; it refines. The trials do not shatter; they strengthen. You learn that thick skin is not hardness—it is wisdom in motion. Staying the course isn't optional. It's embedded in life itself. Every pivot, detour, stumble, and elevation demands it. We’re enrolled in this curriculum simply by choosing to live fully. "Just as I’m on the path to growth, something happens to test me. It’s as if life is whispering: Are you ready to stay the course?" The Invitation of the Unknown Life delights in surprises. It doesn’t ask for permission to shift. And so staying the course become...

  In nature, everything exists within a larger field of support: the tree is held by the soil, the fungi, the sunlight, the rain. It doesn’t  earn  that support. It exists within a system designed to sustain it. Ellie Seilern This quote found me when I needed a reminder. A reminder of what it means to be held—not through merit, not through effort—but simply through existence. And it unlocked something in me: a deep wave of gratitude for the earth that has always known how to carry me. Nature has been my quiet companion, my sacred teacher. In the ache of uncertainty, in the mess of transition, when I didn’t know what healing looked like—I walked. Up steep hills with no promise of a peak, across beaches that washed away my fears grain by grain. The winds changed without warning, the skies tested my resolve, but the sheer magnificence of the moon hanging over the sea, the sun breaking the horizon open—it reminded me I was still here. I didn't plan for nature to heal me. I s...

  There’s a quiet revolution happening—one that begins with a simple, radical truth: I am worthy. Full stop. Not because I’ve ticked off every item on my to-do list. Not because I’ve stayed busy from sunrise to sunset. Not because I’ve earned a certain income, gained a certain following, or built a certain network. I am worthy because I exist. The Hustle Myth We live in a world that often confuses productivity with value. We’re told our “net worth” defines us. We’re praised for being booked and busy. We’re encouraged to chase metrics—followers, likes, connections—as if they are proof of our significance. And so, we hustle. We overextend. We say yes when we mean no. We perform. We prove. We push. All in the name of being seen as “enough.” But here’s the truth: Hustling for worthiness is a losing game. Because the finish line keeps moving. And the more we chase it, the more disconnected we become from our true selves. A Different Starting Point What if we began...

“if the ocean can calm itself, so can you. we are both salt water mixed with air.” Nayyirah Waheed There’s something sacred about the morning. The hush before the world fully wakes. The promise of a new beginning from the Most High Each weekend, I return to the North Coast—a ritual, a rhythm, a remembering. I walk the shore as the sun rises, watching the world unfold in its own quiet ceremony. The sea, the sky, the sand—they speak if you’re still enough to listen. This morning, the ocean whispered something new. At first glance, the water looked dark—almost black. I paused. Then, as if on cue, the surface shimmered and broke open. Hundreds of fish leapt from the water in perfect symmetry, their silver bodies catching the light like tiny mirrors. It was as if the sea had exhaled a secret. I gasped—no, I screamed. Not from fear, but from awe. From the sheer beauty of it all. What looked strange and out of place at first—dark water, an unfamiliar movement—revealed itself to be something e...

  For a few minutes go within, be with the silence and stillness and you will hear the wisdom of the Spirit. Remembering our rituals is key. It is our duty to become our own best friend, to silence the punishing inner critic. It is our sacred assignment to honor the light within, and work every day in partnership with God—and one another. Let love lead the way! Susan L Taylor  There is a sacredness in stillness. In a world that constantly demands our attention, energy, and care, we often forget the one person we are with 24/7 — ourselves. Before we give ourselves away — to work, to family, to causes, to relationships — what if we paused? What if we gave ourselves to ourselves first? This isn’t selfish. It’s sacred. That silence you take in the morning before your phone lights up, that moment you place your hand on your heart just to feel it beat, that walk in nature where your mind unclutters — these are not small things. They are rituals. Acts of devotion. Invitations to com...

  “ Courage is the most important of all the virtues because, without courage, you can't practice any other virtue consistently. You can practice any virtue erratically, but nothing consistently without courage. ”Maya Angelou  This month, I am committed to showing up with courage—not the kind draped in capes and fanfare, but the quiet, daily kind. The kind that shows up despite the knot in your stomach, the racing heart, the voice hissing, "What if you fail?" This is my biggest lesson : Courage is a muscle. It weakens with avoidance. It strengthens with action. And no, it doesn’t mean you’re unafraid. It means you refuse to let fear stop you from taking action, from growing. Courage in the Wild Last month, I watched a leatherback turtle (yes, Bobbi! - I named her) drag herself up the beach to lay her eggs. Every labored flipper-scoop was an act of courage—no guarantees, just faith in the process. She didn’t overthink it. She did it. We’re no different. Your July Cour...