Remembering Who I Am

There are moments in life when everything feels tender at once. When grief is close to the surface, anger flickers unexpectedly, and the familiar stories we once lived by begin to fall away. I’ve been living in one of those moments.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve felt myself wrestling—between ego and heart, between the urge to protect and the deeper longing to stay open.

Bella & Bailey

After losing Bella, one of my beloved cats, a few months ago, I’ve now been grieving the loss of my other sweet companion, Bailey, who left me 10 days ago. These girls were gentle presences from an earlier chapter of my life. Their passing has touched something deeper than sadness alone—it feels like another quiet closing of an old story.

And as painful as that is, I can feel the truth beneath it: the timing, though heartbreaking, is aligned. Something old is being lovingly laid to rest, making space for what is becoming.

This recent Full Moon brought me clarity—not by removing the pain, but by helping me see where I’m being invited to live from my heart again. Not the performing heart. Not the defended heart. But the steady, remembering heart.

I find myself returning to a simple truth, helping me realign as often as needed:

“I come back to my center, return to love as my guide,

and move in harmony with my heart’s wisdom.”

This has become my anchor when emotions rise or the world feels heavy. It reminds me that pain does not define me, and neither does the story my mind wants to build around it. What defines me is how I choose to meet this moment—with love, with honesty, and with devotion to what feels true. I’m learning that lived experience is where wisdom is born. Not after the storm has passed, but right here, while we’re still walking through it.

If you’re in a season of letting go, of grief, or of deep inner wrestling, know this: your heart knows the way forward—even when the path is unclear.

May we all remember who we are and have the courage to live from that place.