To Become
“They both silently listened to the water, which to them was not just water, but the voice of life, the voice of Being, the voice of perpetual becoming.”
—Hermann Hesse, Siddartha
2021 was a year for the ages. A blip in eternity, though profound in terms of a lifetime.
A year where seismic shifts rattled and reshaped our world. And for me, where life lessons demanded practice and mastery, lest they repeat themselves. Again and again.
Thankfully, each lesson brought me a step closer to who I am becoming.
The act of becoming can often be a journey of returning to our authentic self—who we came into this world as—perfectly designed, connected to Source, and filled with love.
Until life has its way with us and we add layers for protection. Like when we change to fit in, please others, and mask feelings of insecurity and self-doubt. To become your authentic self is to peel back those layers and let them fall away. It’s how you grow.
And it was my work this past year through a string of transformative experiences that helped me drop my layers, one by one.
The first ones fell aside quickly; they were mostly habits added over time in the spirit of go-along-to-get-along. Inspiration would arrive and lead me to release what no longer felt good, like drinking wine with dinner, watching TV, saying yes when I preferred no, fitting in by playing small and contorting myself to meet other people’s expectations of me.
One of these experiences found me as I was searching for “age-appropriate” blue jeans. Over the years, I’ve spent umpteen hours and dollars shopping stylish brands to look polished post-50. But they’d all end up on a shelf, gifted or donated. Until I finally gave up and gave in to my long-held love of Silver jeans, found in the juniors’ section of most department stores.
A few weeks back I pulled on a new pair, faded with ripped holes, before heading to lunch at a Des Moines cafe. I wore my hair down that day, revealing shades of silver that juxtaposed my youthful Silver jeans.
As I left the cafe, a woman called out, “Lean!”
I turned around to see Rachel, an acquaintance from years ago. She walked towards me and said, “I spotted you in line and wondered, who’s that teenager?”
I enjoyed the moment. At 58, I used to loathe being seen as someone trying too hard to look young. But honestly, these days, I could give a rat’s ass what others think about me.
And I try to give others the same courtesy. ‘You do you’ has become a favorite refrain.
The next layers were trickier. They were more subtle, under the surface where you have to dig deeper to discover what’s going on. For example, when I got cranky on a trip to Paris of all places–among the most beautiful women in the world. Only to root out long-held feelings of not-enoughness. I finally released them and created space to fall in love with myself just as I am.
But the final layer proved hardest. A shell to be chiseled away, with commensurate pain in the process.
What I realize now is that I’d spent a lifetime making decisions based on what other people wanted and needed, from deciding my college major to whether to take a job promotion, where to live, or go on vacation.
Until life unveiled a better way to choose, by presenting a fork in the road.
One option was to continue on my current path. With wonderful family and friends, a beautiful home. Time to do what I love. And the other called me West. To teach. To be free. To expand as a soul, unencumbered. To become.
I was torn and twisted, unsure how to decide. And so journaled to sort things out and find my “aha!” It arrived on the pages, bringing instant clarity and joy.
It was simple. When given an option, I need to choose myself. To stand up for what feels best for me, my soul, my life purpose–and do so from a place of love and compassion.
So next week, I head west for an extended adventure. To find what’s waiting for me in California. The people, the lessons, the truth. I don’t have much more plan than that, and I trust the path will be revealed step by step.
Some in my orbit now see me as something of a stranger. Without the layers, I no longer fit in quite like before. But there’s more beauty in those relationships that matter–with my people and myself.
2021 proved to be a bumper year for diving within to follow inner guidance and let old patterns slip away, feeling love and joy flow in their place.
Life worked its magic. To choose yourself—to stand up and advocate for your happiness—doesn’t mean you love others less. It means you love yourself more.
Looking back from my new perch, I wouldn’t change a thing. As I now travel happier and lighter, sans the clunky layers.
Full of love and compassion. Free to fly. Ready for more.
