Do you remember that song by Train, Meet Virginia? My 12-year-old self thought she sounded like The Coolest Woman Ever. She wore high heels when she exercised and drank coffee at midnight?! She did everything WRONG and she didn’t care because it was her way. I wanted to be Virginia, because she knew how she wanted to do things. I was already forgetting how it felt to know how I wanted to do things; what it felt like to be in my own being and Know what was for me.
I wanted to be a woman in my power.
Not by telling everyone else what to do or being bossy (we all have different connotations for power, don’t we?) but firmly planted within my own being, doing the things that flowed naturally from me into the world around me. Co-creating with the universe.
This is what Virginia showed me.
One of the biggest themes this past year has been “come home”. Come home to myself. Stop outsourcing my Muse, my motherhood experience, my wisdom, my responsibility, my power, my work, my life.
You see, for as much work as I’ve done the past decade, I kept looking outside of myself for the answers. I don’t mean at all that I’m done having mentors or teachers–far from it–but it’s also possible to do that without outsourcing the wisdom coming from within my own Being.
I’ve had several doors close over the past two years. An ended friendship. A chapter closed without an ending with a much-loved and trusted mentor. A deep, nagging dissatisfaction within an (expensive) container that had nothing to do with the container and everything to do with me. Come home, was being whispered until finally one day another mentor quietly, boldly said to me “you haven’t got a problem. Come home.”
Well, fuck. She was right.
COME HOME had become a shout.
I didn’t need to be looking for another teacher or another mentor to tell me what to do, because I knew what to do. I knew what words needed to be spoken by me, I knew what actions, relationships, environments felt right or wrong to my body and spirit. I knew it was time for me to become the teacher and mentor. It was time for me to stop talking about the things I wanted to see and to create them–to be them.
In response, I created the Reiki training program I dreamed of creating, the one I’ve always known I would because it has so clearly been my path all along. The call that was waiting for me to answer. I sank deeply into being the mother than I am meant to be instead of holding on to the one I thought I’d be. I accepted that no one else is coming along to hand me all the ideas and creativity and inspiration because that well is within me and I am my own Muse.
And still, with all of these things, something else lingered. Something else was waiting to come through me, another piece of my being waiting to come home.
Right there, right around the corner. Just out of reach.
Some time ago, while sitting in meditation (back when I meditated diligently without falling asleep like I do these days), I saw a woman at the edge of a forest. She was powerful, at home, strong, everything around her was part of her.
I knew she was me.
I beckoned for her to step out of the woods, to come closer, to let me see her and know her.
She never moved from where she stood.
Not yet.
Not yet. I understood. It wasn’t her time; I wasn’t ready to know her.
I’ve felt this part of me here and there. Waiting. Growing. Binding her time.
Until last week.
Last week, I saw her again, except this time she wasn’t standing still. She was bursting forth in power and might from her forest, fully in and owning her Being. The visceral feeling was like something depressurizing and shooting out from where it had been bottled up.
Everything had been pointing to this moment over the past season. All signs and synchronicities pointing here. The point where another part of me comes home, the part that I’ve been turning my head away from because I am afraid, because I have been told that I am supposed to be quiet, not loud. Weak, not powerful. Afraid, not fearless and walking in knowing.
I turned my head toward her because the message it is time was quiet and clear.
Time to bring her home.
Time to bring the part of me home, the part of me that’s powerful, using my gifts fully or at least following where they lead me.
Co-creating with the universe and the Divine.
Listening and responding to what is here for me.
Maybe you need to hear these words, too.
You haven’t got a problem. Come home.
deeply resonant. so glad to hear you are heading home. inspiring message. and I love the audio. it is fantastic to hear your words in your voices with your inflections, pauses, laughter.
Oh my word Tricia! We just listed to this song this morning, and we’re talking about how disappointing the video is.
This message resonates so much, my desire to learn and integrate has in recent years had me doing more “outsourcing” than ever before.
While some of that was so, so good and helped me shift powerfully: at a few points I’ve found myself thinking “I don’t know, I can’t, what do I do?” And remembering myself, my 19 year old self, my 27 year old self bold and audacious (while still being a good evangelical gal, of course) who just FIGURED IT OUT, I feel that call home too.