How are you…really!

Hello again. 

I know I said I was taking a break from writing for the month of August, but I’ve realized how much joy I get from writing and connecting with you in this way.

So…here I am.

I tend to write about what is in my heart and what is real in my life. And what is here right now is authenticity.

I appreciate people who are real. People I can be real with. Authenticity is one of my core values, so it feels important that I offer you the same.

The truth is, while I’ve had many wonderful experiences this summer, I’ve also been moving through a lot emotionally. Old beliefs, fears, and patterns have been surfacing. At times it has been uncomfortable and tiring—and at other times, incredibly freeing.

On Saturday morning, I went to the Western Fair Market, one of my favourite places. I was chatting with Cynthia, a vendor I adore for her warmth, authenticity and wonderful creative flair, when I looked over and saw an old friend I hadn’t seen in several years.

His big smile immediately made me smile.

About twenty years ago, a group of us gathered almost every week during the summer. We called it The Summer of Love. There was spiritual exploration, friendship, laughter, and many nights gathered around a fire.

We hugged and began catching up.

Then he asked, “So, how are things going?”

I was about to give the automatic response—Things are good—when he added:

“No, I mean…how are things really?”

Ahhh. We’re being real.

I told him I was actually a little shaken because I’d been in a car accident just before arriving at the market. My neighbour hadn’t seen me as I was pulling out of my driveway. Thankfully, I was okay, but I was still in shock and hadn’t fully realized it.

And then our conversation went deeper.

The three of us weren’t talking about the weather. We weren’t sharing polished versions of our lives.

We were real.

When we said goodbye, and I left the market, I noticed something.

I felt lighter.

My heart felt good.

There is something deeply healing about being seen as I really am.

Lately, many people have shared with me that they, too, are going through a lot. Maybe you are as well.

Whether we understand it spiritually, energetically, psychologically—or simply as part of being human—sometimes life brings our old stuff right to the surface.

And perhaps the invitation isn't to push it back down.

Perhaps it's to meet it.

I believe this is where so much of our spiritual practice actually happens.

Not only when we're sitting quietly on a meditation cushion, but when we're engaged in the messiness, beauty, and unpredictability of our lives.

Can we be present with what we are feeling?

Can we breathe instead of immediately reacting?

Can we become curious about what is being triggered?

Can we offer compassion to the tender part of ourselves instead of allowing our Inner Critic to convince us that something is wrong?

There is nothing wrong with us.

Sometimes a part of us simply needs our attention.

And sometimes we need help.

Reaching out for support isn't weakness. It can be one of the most loving and courageous things we do for ourselves.

What I’ve noticed in my own experience is that when I stop fighting an emotion and meet it with compassion—when I breathe into the tender place and simply stay with myself—something eventually shifts.

I can't control the timing.

But what remains is a depth of peace and stillness. A quiet that feels spacious, loving, and deeply nourishing.

Here's something else I've learned:

Peace and discomfort can coexist.

I can be working through something difficult and still laugh with friends, kayak down the Thames, listen to music in a beautiful garden, wander through sunflowers, or breathe in the fragrance of lavender. Yes, I’ve done all of these things in the past few weeks.

We don't have to wait until we've "worked through everything" before we live.

Maybe this is living.

Holding it all.

One of the intentions I've been sitting with is:

I am ready to…

Those four words can open a powerful doorway.

Because sometimes when we say we're ready for something new, the parts of us that aren't ready make themselves known.

The fear.

The doubt.

The old story.

Rather than pushing those parts away, what if we welcomed them with compassion?

I see you. I hear you. You can come with me.

Spiritual growth isn't always rainbows and unicorns. At least, that's not the path I'm walking.

There is beauty, expansion, peace, and joy.

And there is shadow, uncertainty, and discomfort.

We can't control everything happening around us. But we can learn to stay present and grounded within ourselves.

We can listen.

We can ask for help.

We can keep showing up.

And a big one for me right now is  - taking action.

And the more we do, the more we discover the inner resources that have been there all along—strength, courage, clarity, compassion and peace.

So wherever you are right now, perhaps ask yourself:

What is my heart longing for?

What is asking to be seen?

And what am I ready for?

Then listen.

Your heart may have something to say. 

With love,

Diane