Things feel… different.
In me. In my life and relationships. And most certainly in my work and business.
“It’s the shift,” I often write in my journal, a deep knowing that something has transformed, yet I still can’t name it.
I spent the last year and a half making space.
Selling or donating nearly everything I own. Letting go of more relationships that felt misaligned. Processing out my trauma, grief, wounds, and limiting beliefs. Sitting inside the many voids and bottoms for as long as they required. Waiting patiently (mostly) in the uncertainty and unknowns. Cleaning up the lingering messes from the prior season.
I made space, and I laid new foundations.
I made space, and I integrated new awarenesses.
I made space, and I had the most incredible downloads.
I made space, and I reclaimed so many parts of myself.
I made space, and I welcomed this next evolution.
When we do the internal work, we all experience “the shift.” We feel different at our core, as if our cells have been rewired, our operating system significantly updated, and we can move in entirely new ways. We begin to witness the world reconfiguring around us. Doors open. People arrive. Possibilities and pathways expand. We find flow.
“The shift” is essentially a changing of seasons.
Only it’s more than just a marked transition into what’s next; it’s entering a completely new and different experience of self and life.
It’s existing at a whole new frequency.
Making space is a prerequisite to healing and growth work, always.
To one degree or another, you must release what’s old and no longer aligned—internally and externally, literally and figuratively.
But making space doesn’t mean immediately filling it with the new; it often requires learning to sit in the unknown, simmer in the uncertainty, and find expansion in the unfamiliar.
It requires persistence and patience in a way most don’t understand.
Persistence in that you’re staying plugged into the frequency of your desires, you’re decided that they are happening and moving in expectation of them, and you’re consistently organizing yourself around what you say you want and who you need to be to have it. All while things may be quiet and movement is nowhere to be found.
Patience in that you’re not trying to force things into fruition. You’re surrendered and open and sitting in the void—that liminal space between no longer and not yet. All while you stay in complete trust and faith despite the circumstances that tell you nothing is happening.
It’s a balance.
A practice of duality in the deepest sense.
And it’s a paradigm you must adopt and live.
Fully and completely, every moment of every day.
New things are coming. 🥳
Things that will make this work far more easeful.