In the past couple of months, I’ve not only been letting go, but letting it be, accepting all that was, and all that is no longer.
The focus then shifted upon me and my Self, and our relationship. I have for so long rejected my Self. Stifling, dismissing, her dreams, her aspirations, her desires, her potential. But in the depths of my Self, there’s resided a knowing. My soul’s compass, unwavering, so gentle in its commitment to guide me to my undeniable truth. It’s been there, when I was at school, university, when I became a lawyer, when I became unhappy. Resolute, my knowing has relentlessly whispered my dreams, my own truths back to me – you are not living your life.
I got busy, drowning myself in work, in order to drown the voices. I was building a career, a reputation, making money, I had responsibilities, my dreams no longer had a place.
But my knowing, it was not mildly deterred. Even when a year ago, my life and all I knew it to be, was completely shattered, my knowing not only remained intact, but its voice grew louder. Some people may name it their ‘calling’, mine was starting to scream.
As I let go of another, I sank into the loving embrace of my own Self. It was there I began to heal, to listen, to understand, and to love. I realised how long I had contained my truth, how unkind, how dismissive I had become of it, how I had grown to despise who I was, at my greatest depths. I was devastated and I just couldn’t do it anymore.
I deserve to be loved as I truly am, first and foremost, by me.
After a year reacquainting and listening to the teachings of my own true self, I knew what I had to do. I made a decision to commit, whole heartedly, unapologetically to who I really am, and who I’ve always been. I didn’t have all the answers, I still don’t, and I no longer need them, just knowing is enough for me.
Eight weeks ago, I resigned. From my full time job, from the path I had deemed right, but I knew wasn’t right for me. I’ve quit before, and in the past, as a quitter there’s been a self induced notion that I must be a committment-phobe. But this time, for the first time, I wasn’t quitting, I was committing – letting go of who I am not, in order to devote myself to who I know I am, and who I wish to become.
Last week, I travelled from my homeland Australia, here, to Nepal, my motherland. I don’t know her as well as I should, having only been in her loving embrace for fleeting family visits. I’m 28 now, it’s just simply time.
This is what I want, it’s what I’ve always known I’ve wanted.
I’ve been afraid to take this leap, but it is something I must do. It’s been calling out to me for years, so gentle in its endeavour to be heard, it was time I listened.
For the next year or so, I will fulfil one of my greatest desires. To know my story, to tell it, through the mountains, the valleys, the rivers, the cities, and its people. From my father’s to my mother’s story – for mine, is unwritten without theirs.
My 18 year old self feels so relieved that she is on the path that she had always dreamed of, and known to be hers. My 28 year old self is no longer afraid to fail. I have made a promise, that I will always listen. I know, no matter what, my Self and I will be okay. Heck, we may even thrive.
As I take a leap into the complete unknown, I am accompanied, by my oldest, most trusted companion, my knowing. And for the first time, in as long as I can remember, I can truely say, that I know, here, is exactly where I am supposed to be.
Thank you for supporting my words, my unfiltered truths, so far. I am so grateful for you all.