I Hereby Reclaim my Voice: A Reclamation to the World
On behalf of all of humanity, I reclaim.
This is the story of how one innocent trip to the mountains of Madrid turned out to be a day of deep and profound healing that has quite possibly changed the rest of my life forever. Considering the enormous challenges that we are facing as a species on this planet, I felt this story, however personal, needed to be told.
Sometimes painful, at other times uplifting, but at all times truthful, it is a call to spiritual arms; those of personal power, integrity, sovereignty and union. I believe that before planetary healing comes personal healing. Here is my first-hand experience of the latter, shared in the hope that it will help to contribute to the former.
May you also liberate your voice and have the courage to use it.
An Invitation From a New Friend
Not long ago I did an excursion out of Madrid with my new friend and fellow back-to-the-land dreamer, Oscár. Making the most of his van to get to places that the train and bus routes don’t go, he invited me to visit his ‘secret spot’ in the Madridlieño countryside. Intrigued and eager to visit new places out of the city, I happily accepted.
I met Oscár in the community garden at one of the assemblies early this year. Seeing the need for greater participation and awareness of the principles of the space, he proposed a new workgroup. The name of the group is ‘the tender warriors’. ‘War’ as in the battle against the lack of awareness of so many of the visitors that visit the garden; ‘tender’ because the group aims to raise awareness through creative activities such as art, theatre and dance, whilst putting people-care in the centre of everything.
I thought that this sounded like a lot of fun so I got involved, and since then we have become good friends. He too has a bohemian spirit and we share the same dream of one day living in nature. So it was no surprise to me when, upon getting into his van, I found a large collection of shells, stones, twigs and leaves stashed away in the inside shelves and side pockets. I am also guilty of collecting little souvenirs from nature, so this was another confirmation of why we had become friends.
Leaving the City Behind
And so, on this typical Madrilieño bright and sunny day, we set off on our journey out of the city. Leaving the concrete buildings behind, we passed through the underground tunnel, transversed the suburbs and finally made it out into the greenery of the countryside.
When we stopped and got out, I immediately breathed a sigh of relief. It felt so good to be out in the fresh air! Oh, how I had missed it!
Often I feel that the city keeps me locked in its grasp, sucking me into its asphalt roads and concrete streets. It can become a bubble that feels impossible to break out of; an ecosystem in itself. It is a place where all my needs can be met bar one: the need to connect to our original habitat, the great outdoors. Only when I get out into the countryside do I realise how thirsty for the natural world I am.
Needless to say, on this particular day, seeing the mountains, hearing the birds and having the sun on my face was akin to drinking fresh cool water after a long hike in the boiling sun. The only thing I was able to say was: “Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! ¡Que rico! How delicious!
Once we were ready, we set off across a green meadow, surrounded by small mountains, our lunch on our backs and a spring in our step. We walked and talked, sang and danced, so happy to feel the freedom of being out in nature.
As we progressed on our meandering way, we paused for a second to breathe and appreciate where we were.
The Medicine Tree
In the silence of the mountains, I looked up and saw before me one of the most beautiful trees I had ever seen.
Stood in the middle of the field, it was the epitome of dignity. The wide, firm truck, grown strong after so many years of being there, held up its magnificent canopy of green leaves, which exploded upwards from its branches and then gently fell down towards the ground in one luscious mass. Like a queen, it stood tall; confident and self-assured. It stood alone, in solitude, happy with its own company.
In the middle of its truck was a large oval-shaped hole. We stood and observed it, taking it all in.
“What an amazing tree”, I said to Oscár.
“Why is it so amazing?”, Oscár asked.
“Because everything we can see above the ground- the branches, the massive canopy, the mass of leaves- is a reflection of what is below the ground”, I replied, “The visible and the invisible worlds. As above, so below”.
“And what do you see when you look at it?”, he asked.
“I see dignity, beauty and strength”.
“And the hole?”
I paused for a second to contemplate it.
“It’s the navel; its belly button”.
“I was thinking the same”, Oscár confirmed, “Or a mouth”.
“Or an entrance to the underworlds”, I added.
We remained in silence for a few moments more, observing and internally contemplating.
Then, breaking our reverie, Oscár said: “¡Vamos!”. Let’s go!
I smiled and bounded after him.
As we approached the tree we naturally came to a halt a few metres in front of it. Again we silently observed, looking up in awe. We sat down in the grass, facing the huge trunk. It was as if there was an invisible force that demanded respect. We were silently commanded not to go poking around in its mysterious hole just yet.
Then Oscár turned to me and said: “Shall we do it here then? What do you think?”.
“Sounds good to me I said”.
Coaching in Nature
Aside from being in nature, Oscár and I had another reason for being there.
Oscár is a qualified coach and had invited me to try out a new idea he was working on for his coaching business: coaching in nature.
For my part, I was happy to give it a go, not really knowing what to expect. What do coaches do exactly? I wasn’t so sure!
But having recently left my job to follow my dreams, I thought maybe I could gain some clarity about how I want to proceed in the next stage of my life. Perhaps it would help me construct the rainbow bridge that will take me from the city to the countryside? And if nothing else, it would be a nice day out. I had nothing to lose, so I agreed.
And so there, using the tree as our guide, we began our first coaching session, which to my surprise, turned out to be so much more than I could have ever expected.
I sat facing the tree with my eyes closed while Oscár sat beside me. After a few moments he said:
“Well, Olivia. We will begin. But before we do, I want you to know that this session is purely for you. Disfrutalo. Enjoy it. Get the most out of it that you can. Aprovéchalo. Really make the most of it, and remember, es solo para ti. It is just for you. I have no expectations, I’m just here as a guide.”
I thanked him for the invitation and accepted. Now the energy between us changed from two friends chatting in nature to that of client and coach. I felt slightly vulnerable and nervous, unsure of what was going to transpire.
Then Oscár asked: “What would you like to work on in this session, Olivia?”
I sat for a few moments and meditated on the question. Then it came to me:
“I want clarity on how to move forward with my project: My blog, my writing, the dream I want to share and my vision for the world I want to live in.
I feel blocked. There are parts of me that I want to express but I don’t know how. I feel I have something to share that could be of value to others, but I doubt myself.
I’m scared of speaking my truth and worry too much about what people might say. I want to express my feelings about the world we live in; my anger, my frustration, my pain. But I’m scared of coming from a place of reactivity, anger, or unhealed trauma and only adding to the toxicity of the world, rather than uplifting and inspiring.
It is my desire to be a source of inspiration for others, but I fear that if I only look at the positive, I will censor the other part of myself that has more to say. Yet I am afraid of giving that part of myself a voice.
And plus, who am I to believe that I have something to say, anyway?”
Oscar listened carefully and then said: “Let’s focus on the feelings behind your fear. Really feel it. Tell me what comes up for you.”
Following his instruction, I stayed in silence and immersed myself in the depth of my being. What was it that was lurking in the shadows that was causing me to doubt myself so much?
I felt the tension and contraction that often stops me in my tracks and makes me want to crawl into a hole of vulnerability. My eyes started to well up. Pain stung in my heart and my throat.
“What do you feel?”, Oscár asked.
“Pain”, I replied, “A lot of pain”.
“What is causing the pain?”.
I sat for a while, exploring my inner world. Why so much pain? I have had nothing but positive feedback since I started to make my voice heard in the world. All my family and friends are supportive of me. So what’s the problem?
After a few more moments of exploration, it came to me. Behind the pain there was grief. It felt like a great, gaping hole inside of me where something was missing.
We experience grief when we have lost something precious to us. But in my case, what had I lost? What was the missing piece?
Reliving the Past
Memories began to come to me from being at secondary school. Old feelings and sensations surfaced as I returned to that time. I felt unsafe in my environment. It felt hostile and aggressive, an unsafe place for me to be. I felt myself as a young teenager, subconsciously realising that in order to stay safe, I had to hide.
However, it wasn’t my physical safety that concerned me. It was my spiritual safety. In my youthful observance of the world, I had come to the understanding that to be a deep, sensitive soul in the world was too risky. It was better to keep my eyes and ears open and my mouth shut.
So I hid that part of myself away and tried to blend into the wallpaper, never quite feeling that I fit in. I let the louder, more dominant kids take the stage and hoped to stay out of their way. Their brutish, loud and aggressive ways intimidated me and it didn’t feel good.
Not to give you the impression that I was a recluse or was that kid that never spoke to anyone. I had friends, I enjoyed learning and had fun at school. Until this deep dark dive into my inner wounds with Oscár, I thought school had been only a positive experience. However now, over 15 years on, I see that there was a part of me that had felt uncomfortable, uneasy and unsafe; feelings lurked hidden in the murky depths of my subconscious- until now.
A Patriarchal Society
This feeling of hostility also repeated itself outside of school. It was present in the streets and in the newspapers. I saw the painful injustices and ugliness in the world which were just accepted as the norm, and I felt fear.
Was this how the world really was? It seemed dangerous. Better to stay small and keep my head down.
I could see that the world is made up of the rich and the poor; the beautiful and the ugly; the strong and the weak; those who win and those who lose.
I was taught that those who come out on top are the product of the survival of the fittest and therefore they deserve it. Following this logic, those at the bottom also deserve it. It’s a dog eat dog world and I had better get used to it.
I realized that being deep, reflective and philosophical is not the recipe for survival in this brutish world where competition and aggression reign supreme.
Our patriarchal culture values dominance and force and suffers from a serious lack of wisdom. The world stage doesn’t recognise the value of the depth of our capacity to feel and intuit. Those of us who, like me, are very sensitive can feel intimidated by the vulgarity of our culture and therefore sense that what we have to say will not be valued, or listened to. I learnt early on that it was better to keep my opinions to myself, or else I faced ridicule, derision or the frustration of having my ideas dismissed as silly and unimportant.
Especially as a young woman growing up in industrial North West England. My appearance was much more important than what I had to say. The worst thing was that I believed that too, and spent more time worrying about my beauty regime than my ability to debate my opinions with those willing to hear them. The continual sexual harassment (both on the streets and at school) also added to my discomfort and desire to hide.
Fear and Grief
When I recall now how I felt in those innocent and formative years, I see that there was an underlying feeling of fear. Fear of being seen, fear of being heard, fear of being ridiculed, fear of being dismissed, fear of being belittled.
Society teaches us to live in fear, keep our heads down, and not ask any questions. And that is precisely not who I am, hence my discomfort when this was asked of me.
However, when we are young we are not aware of these injustices and tend to internalise not being accepted as a reason to be ashamed of ourselves. In my case, I had become so unconsciously ashamed of who I really was that I chose to hide the best of who I am away from the world, communing with that deep, sensitive part of myself only in my private notebooks. (A habit that I maintained until I started this blog and started to come out of hiding).
Instead of letting myself be who I really am, unabashed, I chose to be an accomplice of my own self-repression. No wonder I never felt at home in my own culture! How could I, if I wasn’t at home in my own self? How can I expect others to value what I have to say if I don’t value it myself?
The grief I felt was because of all that I had hidden and not given to the world and for what I had lost in the process: my own self worth and self-esteem.
The True Meaning of Self-Esteem
Usually, we talk about self-esteem in terms of how we feel about our bodies; how we look, whether we consider ourselves to be fat or thin, beautiful or ugly. This may be one way that we can suffer from low self-esteem, but I have come to see that true self-esteem is based on much more than our appearance.
Real self-esteem comes from truly valuing who you are in all your fullness. It comes from giving value to yourself and not waiting for others to give it to you. It comes from taking your value back from the outside forces that you have given it away to.
This is integrity. When we are integral to our own selves. We have all parts of us integrated from within. We don’t leave part of ourselves out in the rain or hidden under the bed.
This is related to dignity: the art of being true to who we are in all circumstances, come what may.
A More Beautiful World
Yet, it wasn’t just my voice that I had hidden. It was also the deep knowing I had in my heart that the world wasn’t meant to be this way and that a more beautiful world is possible. On a deep level, I felt ashamed of my innate optimism, my joy, my vision, my rainbow heart.
We live in a world of media created perpetual doom and gloom that is designed to keep our expectations low.
“Don’t be ridiculous”, it says, “Look at all this pain and suffering. The world is a dangerous place and you should be very, very afraid. You think a more beautiful world is possible? That’s cute! Welcome to the real world, honey, and get used to it! Try as you might, it ain’t changing. Nice try though. Now here’s some more doom and gloom for you, just in case you still don’t believe me”.
And like the sponge that we all are at that age, I soaked it all up. When the world tells you one thing, and you think another, it can be very difficult to maintain your conviction. Thus adding another layer of fear: that everyone else was right and I was wrong.
I felt afraid to speak up, afraid to be seen as anything other than “the good girl”, “the cute girl”, “the clever girl”. There was safety in that. I didn’t run the risk of offending anyone or making anyone uncomfortable.
However, this meant that the other side of my personality was kept in the dark. ‘The girl with an opinion about society’ felt like dangerous territory, as did ‘the girl with powerful convictions’. This is the kind of territory where people might not like you when you challenge their worldview with what you have to say. It’s the kind of territory where people label you as “opinionated” and “difficult”, or “too intense” and “deep”.
Either way, I soon learnt that playing the “good girl” was a lot more socially acceptable. On some level, I made the decision to not bother rocking the boat with what I had to say. Life was easier that way and I could just enjoy my intellectual and spiritual enquiries in the privacy of my own space.
But what I didn’t know at the time, is that what had then seemed to be a justified tool for self-preservation had consequences further down the line, as I was now finding out. There is really nothing we can hide, even from ourselves. It always comes out in the wash, one way or another.
Healing Words of Awareness
As I described how I felt to Oscár, tears fell down my face. I followed Oscárs instructions to stay with the pain. I tried to feel everything and not repress anything. I knew that this was the only way to release and transmute old pain and trauma. I wanted to heal and this was the only way to do so.
After a while, the heaviness began to subside and a lightness entered. I opened my eyes and saw the magnificent medicine tree in front of me, the sunlight dancing on the leaves, creating magical sparks between the light and shadow.
I looked at Oscár supporting me with his gaze.
“How do you feel?”, he asked.
“After a few moments pause, I answered: “I’m ok. I still feel the pain but I’m ok”.
Then he told me to speak to the tree directly. “Tell the tree how you feel”, he instructed. “What would you like to say to it?”.
I wasn’t quite sure what to say. There was too much emotion; my mind was cloudy.
Seeing my hesitation, Oscár offered me a few sentences and told me to repeat them after him:
“Dear Tree, I am sorry that I hid.
I hid because I didn’t feel safe”.
Between the jumbled thoughts of my clouded mind, these two sentences were like a sharp dagger, cutting through the density and allowing clarity through.
Immediately, I sensed the simple truth of what he had said and felt relief. Amongst all the stories I could tell myself and memories that I could dig up, this was the real crux of my pain.
“Dear Tree, I am sorry that I hid”, I repeated.
“I hid because I didn’t feel safe”.
As I said the words I felt a lifetime of hiding rise up inside me. Grief for the loss of that part of myself. Grief of all the lost opportunities to share who I really was. Grief of all those censored moments where I’d had something to share and instead chose to swallow it back down. The pain of frustration when what I did say was dismissed or ridiculed.
I felt the pain; breathed it in, and breathed it out for the tree to take. I stayed like this for a few moments, before Oscár said:
“Olivia, now go and explore this meadow. Take your time. The session isn’t over. Just go and let all of this settle for a little while. Come back when you are ready. I will be waiting here for you”.
And so I went off barefoot in the field. Looking at the horizon, breathing in the mountains, the fresh air and the greenery helped calm me. Feeling the soles of my feet touch the Earth brought me back to the present moment.
Oscárs sentences kept coming back to me: “I hid because I felt unsafe”.
It was a relief to have come to some clarity as to why I felt so blocked at times. I felt gratitude and comfort in his words. I allowed myself to relax into this new awareness and I felt better.
I kept exploring the field, moving towards a corner where I could be alone. I climbed a tree and felt grounded by the texture of the bark on my bare hands and feet.
I sat and observed my surroundings. After a few minutes of stillness, a few rabbits came out, bobbing around the grass in front of me. A robin came and perched on a nearby branch and I felt comforted by its presence.
When it eventually flew away, I took it as a sign that I should be getting back to Oscár. I felt slightly shy as I approached him after the intensity of what I had shared. After a very deep emotional release, there is often the worry that the other will be unable to handle the intense intimacy created. What if I had made him feel uncomfortable?
But I needn’t have worried, as Oscár showed that he was more than able to hold space for me. I sat down beside him, facing the tree again.
After a moment he asked: “Did anything arise for you whilst you were away that you were aware of before?”
I paused, not knowing quite what to say. My mind reached for some deep philosophical discovery but couldn’t find one.
Instead, I told the simple truth:
“I just kept thinking: ‘What has happened here, in our world? What has happened to us, to humanity, to the planet?
What has happened that could condition us with so much fear that we could possibly be afraid of our own light, our own goodness?”
Oscár nodded his head in understanding.
Our Lost Heritage
We spoke some more about society and I told him that I had always felt the strong urge to stand up and make my voice heard. To demand change and speak the uncomfortable and inconvenient truths that have felt taboo for me to say for so long. However, as strong as the desire to do so is, there is part of me that resists and feels scared when I do.
“Scared of what?”, Oscár asked.
“Scared of making people uncomfortable. Scared of putting people off. Scared of being misunderstood. Scared of being a ranter rather than a writer”.
After a moment’s reflection, Oscár said: “It feels like you want to reclaim something. To make a reclamation to the world”.
“That’s exactly it!”, I said, surprised by his ability to concisely summarise something that for me felt so unclear. Again, he had hit the nail on the head!
I do feel the urgent need to reclaim. I want to reclaim all that we have lost in this industrial, capitalist society, even though for the most part, it is no longer in living memory.
But just because it was lost before our lifetime, it doesn’t reduce the grief of losing it, or excuse the pain. Nor does it mean that we should shrug our shoulders and say “oh well, that’s a pity. But that was then and this is now”.
Suddenly, I had the clarity to see what it is that I am doing here, writing this blog and transitioning to an alternative way of life.
I felt happy and pleased. It’s ok to reclaim. We reclaim our lost luggage; we should also be reclaiming our lost heritage.
I Hereby Reclaim
Oscár then invited me to make a reclamation to the tree, into that great gaping hole in its navel, that mysterious portal that could transport us to the invisible world of the unmanifest and perhaps change the course of destiny.
I once again closed my eyes and entered that deep and boundless space within myself and merged with the giant navel of the medicine tree, connecting my roots with its roots.
After a few moments I began to speak:
“On behalf of all human beings, past, present and future, I hereby reclaim our belonging to this Earth and our right to the land.
In the name of all living creatures- the forests, the plants, the animals, the birds and the bees, I reclaim our right to live in a world free from toxicity, both spiritual and material.
I reclaim our right to clean water; our rivers, oceans and lakes free from pollutants, contaminants and plastic.
I reclaim our right to clean air to breathe and clean food to eat, free of hidden toxins that harm our bodies and the Earth.
I reclaim our power to decide for ourselves for the benefit of all beings and future generations, not just for the increased wealth of a few at the cost of many.
I reclaim our right to live on our shared Earth in peace and harmony and our right to live in a society that supports those values, rather than those of war, separation and destruction.
I reclaim our right to live in a world free from fear, violence, control and threat to survival.
I reclaim every moment, past, present and future, whereby humans, plants and animals have been abused and exploited against their will.
I reclaim every injustice, every misaligned action, every moment our free will has been trespassed.
On behalf of the oppressed, I reclaim our voice and our right to use it. I reclaim our right to freedom of expression and proclaim that anything other than this is to gag and silence.
I reclaim our sovereignty and our right to live in a world free of manipulation and censorship.
On behalf of our children and future generations, I reclaim all the planetary destruction that they will inherit.
I reclaim on behalf of all indigenous cultures that have been lost, marginalised, degraded, and destroyed across the globe and across time. I reclaim their wisdom, stories, and spirituality and proclaim them as our shared birthright as human beings indigenous to the Earth.
I reclaim our unity as a species, across all borders, countries, cultures and continents.
I reclaim our connection to the plant world and the animal kingdom and proclaim them as our brothers and sisters.
I reclaim our natural desire to be of service to others and our right to share our gifts with the world. I reclaim our power to make a difference and to live a life of purpose and deep satisfaction.
I reclaim our goodness, our light, our purity, our strength, our courage, our dignity and our integrity. I reclaim our right to live in connection to one another and our right to live in beauty, peace and harmony.
I reclaim our place in the Universe, amongst the stars, the planets, the solar system, the galaxy and those beyond.
I reclaim our place within the universal ecosystem where micro reflects macro and macro reflects micro; where everything and everyone is connected in an intricate web of interbeing and inter-connection: plants, animals and humans, stars, the sun, the moon and the planet alike.
On behalf of all of humanity, I reclaim all that is holy, all that is sacred and their place in our world. I reclaim our connection to Source, to Spirit, to the Universe and our lost spirituality.
I reclaim the magic, synchronicity and miracles of this world and proclaim them to be such.
I reclaim our connection to the invisible worlds that are around us and within us.
I reclaim our seat at the galactic table and proclaim our role as powerful co-creators, able to live our lives in alignment in accordance with our highest intentions and most deeply held dreams, in service to the whole universe.
I reclaim our power to co-create a world of beauty, joy, light, and laughter.
I reclaim our knowing and surety that a more beautiful world is possible and reclaim our power to co-create it.
This to be my creed, my declaration and my oath.
On behalf of you, of me, of all of us, I reclaim.
And so it is”
After a long pause, I returned and opened my eyes. The tree was still there, standing strong and tall, a reassuring presence. I blinked in the twinkling sunlight dancing between the leaves. I looked at Oscár.
“¿Cómo te sientes?”, he asked. How do you feel?
“Great!”, I said, and let out a deep breath. “I feel really great!”.
The truth was, not only did I feel great but also felt alive! I had spoken the secret words that I’d had in my heart for so long. I had allowed myself to be seen and heard expressing what my soul so badly wanted to express.
I had the strength to express my truth, boldly and courageously. I felt powerful. I had joy in my heart and immense gratitude for all that had transpired.
What a wonderful day this was!
What a wonderful life this is!
What a wonderful moment this had been!
Then Oscár turned to me and said:
“Olivia, I have been witness to your reclamation. We now close the session”.
He then laid back on the grass and said:
“Buff! I’m exhausted!”.
We both laughed and I thanked him for accompanying me through this deep healing process. We hugged a big bear hud and breathed a deep satisfied sigh.
“Wow, that was powerful”, he said. “The wind started blowing and everything! It was like the Earth was listening to you and responding”.
I laughed and shrugged.
Then, like the true Spaniard that he is, he said: “¡Venga! ¡A comer!”. Let’s eat!
But that wasn’t until we had said farewell to the medicine tree.
With reverence and gratitude, we approached. I touched its bark with my hands and caressed its surface. I moved towards the navel and lovingly brushed my hands around its ridges. It felt smooth and firm in my grip, as I followed the path around its rim.
I looked inside. It was dark and damp. It smelt of earth, bark, musk and decay. I began to move around its trunk, never letting my hands off the surface. As I moved, I followed the patterns in the bark and marvelled at the history contained in her wood.
Oscár joined me and together we began to circle the trunk. He started to sing and I joined him. We weren’t singing any song in particular, it was just the simple melody of two hearts expressing their mutual joy and gratitude through sound.
Suddenly our movements turned to dance as we stretched our limbs as we moved around the body of the tree.
“What an incredible experience this has been”, I thought.
I had never felt so free to be who I am, so free to express what I feel without judgement or shame. I felt truly safe to be seen, with no fear of strange looks, being laughed at, or eyes being rolled.
I was free. Free to be myself, in my fullest human expression, leaving no parts in the dark. And what a delicious feeling that was!
A More Beautiful World
Imagine living in a society where we all felt free to celebrate our devotion to life, to nature, the Earth in such a way; where we come together in community to give back to the Earth and connect to our one-ness; where celebrations of this kind were the norm; where nature was revered, respected and recognised for being the mother that she is.
The best thing I have learnt through this experience is that there is no need to wait until the day we find ourselves in this kind of society.
The witch hunts are over, we are free to express our light, our love of nature and our joy of being alive without persecution.
It may still come in the form of a derisive voice from the naysayers, the piss-on-paraders and those who mask their own pain through ridiculing others.
But this is merely water off a duck’s back.
We are here to birth a new Earth into being, in spite of and despite our current societal conditions. This is what it means to be a “tender warrior”. We don’t battle with darkness but transform it by choosing love over fear. Our weapons of mass transmutation are joy, our rainbow hearts and our dreams of a more beautiful world for every living being on the face of this Earth.
In my case, now I can clearly see that after realising that simple truth- that I had hidden a part of myself away because I had felt unsafe- I can remain an eternal victim of a harsh and destructive world or I can take my power back and be the person I came here to be regardless.
So here is to you and me, and the rest of humanity, coming together as the 99%, letting our light be seen in all our powerful glory and co-creating rainbows. Just like the phoenix rising from the ashes, let us rise and birth a more beautiful world into being.
I believe healing is possible.
I believe we can transform our fear into love, our sorrow into joy and pain into laughter.
I believe in our ability to co-create a more beautiful world.
First, we start with ourselves and then the rest will follow.
A big thank you to my dear friend Oscár. To say that you are ‘a coach’ is a gross underestimation of the work you do. You are a gifted and intuitive healer and it is your time to bring this gift forth into the world.
With gratitude to our guiding companion in this story, the medicine tree. I felt you were lovingly listening to us, your energy making a special space for this deep healing work to occur.
Finally, thank you, dear reader, for bearing witness to my reclamation and for being part of this healing journey. May you also experience the deep healing you need to become the person you came here to be, in all of your colours and vibrancy.
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