Musings on Transformation

**I wrote this post on Nov. 24, 2022.**

Life has such a strange way of humbling us - reminding us that not only are we not the center of the universe but that we have everything at our disposal to show up as we are and be uplifted.

I'm coming off an almost three-week Caribbean adventure, and I was moved in ways that I haven't in a long time.

I had the rare opportunity to gather with people who have been my friends for over a decade. And if I'm honest, I wasn't looking forward to being confined to a resort with so many people who knew who I once was but not exactly who I was becoming.

My seven days in Grenada were the catalyst that I needed for change.

Let me explain.

At one point during the trip, I was taking my many supplements, which I use as part of an integrated strategy to manage my hormonal imbalances, mitochondrial deficiencies, and so much more. My dear and old friend S looked at my assortment and pills and innocently asked, "why are you taking all of those." When I finished explaining, the look of shock on her face was a clear indicator that I'd never told her about the chronic pain I'd been in for the last 7, going on eight years. The restless nights the distressing physical ailments, and the constant psychological battle, I fight to stay hopeful, optimistic, and in the light.

I realized then that I'd spent so many years in "friendship" with these people, but so few of them had been privy to my most profound suffering-- and deepest truths. It made me wonder why. Why is it I hide away? What do I find in the shadows, and why does it always consume me?

I had a few more awareness-shifting moments on my trip, and I was unequivocally shocked by the support of people I genuinely didn't even know who were searching for ways to see me clearer and support me better. People telling me that they were waiting on my books, eager to read more of my blogs, or asking when my storytelling IG lives would come back (they've been gone for over 18 months). Or better yet, folks commenting on animals, pointing out flora and fauna they knew I would appreciate, and sharing with me how I opened their eyes and spirits up to the natural world. The latter is the primary legacy I wish to leave behind.

I've felt isolated inside myself for most of my life - living in a world of my perceived separation and creation. I learned to put on a mask that always seemed comfortable in the crowd, but it was always and is still usually an act. And Yet, here I was with people who were saying in their own way that they wanted us to be closer and they wanted to really know me. Life is funny like that. Sometimes the very thing we need and are looking for has been there all along. That's the irony of confrontation and growth - as we connect to our most profound and revealing truths, we are shown that we are more loved than we know.

It's coming upon the third anniversary of Athena's death. I wish I could say that the grief has waned, that I don't find all of my joyful moments tinged with the soft sorrow of her untimely passing. But that would be a lie and a disservice to her memory.

Being by the ocean - her favorite place - anchored me in my sadness in a way that made me feel like the glorious light of Spirit has always shown on me.

There was a long time when my nightmare-filled dreams always haunted my waking hours, when I would rise in the morning wondering about my life's purpose and how to make the pain go away. In those moments, it was always for Athena. She was my lifeline, the only reason I ever wanted to feel better in my body, my motivation for getting up from my bed, to work in the morning, and out for our 5-mile evening strolls. I was alive for her. It was Athena that taught me how to find the silly little Grace who doesn't smooth everything out with agreeability and humor. She's why sitting outside in my huge yard is my most peaceful moment of the day. I see her spirit running amongst the trees, chasing squirrels and rabbits with glee, tilting back that creamy white snout and yipping her joy into the air for all to hear. And although she is only there in spirit, her happiness is my compass, leading me to my own.

But Athena's greatest gift to me was and will always be the people she brought into my world. The only friends I've ever been able to keep in my whole life - the people that, although I hide from, always try to meet me where I am in the shadows.

Being on the road is always where I find myself. I'm so grateful for the people who love me- even when I am not lovable. And who, when I've not done the best of showing my love and appreciation for, stays bound to me, tethered with strong bungee cords - that give space but always spring back to the source.

Athena keeps giving to me in a way that I struggle to feel worthy of - a love so inexplicable that mortal words will never do it justice. She is the sea breeze through the trees, the piercing pinks of the sky at dusk, the brilliant light beaming from the brim of a rising sun, the soft touch of a loving friend, and the very heartbeat in my chest.

I'm not sure who I'm becoming, but I'm changing, and at the core of this metamorphosis is the truth that is only found in the Eternal Light of Spirit. May the Creator continue to shine upon my path and lead me to the very center of myself — and the same for you.