becoming: my prayer

There’s a quiet voice in me that’s ready to be heard.

Lately, I’ve been feeling the nudge to turn inward—not to retreat, but to listen. To listen to what I haven’t yet fully allowed myself to know. So I’ve set some intentions—not as rigid goals, but as gentle prayers, soft anchors for the path ahead.

What I’m Exploring

I wish to explore the parts of myself I’ve long kept hidden—the tender, tangled, mysterious parts that are waiting to be understood. With the support of my guides, ancestors, angels, and the watchful eagles who wish me well, I want to walk deeper into my truth.

I want to allow myself to be more fully authentic, loving, and sincere—in my life, my work, and especially in my relationships. And I want to do that while still caring beautifully for myself. I want to discover what brings me joy, makes me laugh, lights me up from the inside.

What I’m Healing

There’s a lifelong ache around my body—how I’ve judged it, feared it, abandoned it. I want to heal that. I want to love and feel at home in this body. I want to feel safe being me, to feel the pleasure my body offers without shame, fear, or self-criticism.

I want a body that is strong, healthy, and free of pain—physical and emotional. I want to learn how to trust, and how to clearly communicate that trust in connection with others. I want to feel clarity around who is safe to share space with—physically, emotionally, spiritually.

Who I Aspire to Be

I aspire to become a strong, grounded leader—in my own life and in my community. I want to keep learning from the plant medicines that have changed me, and to deepen my path as a ceremony leader. I hope to grow my capacity to be present with others in sacred space and to let spirit work through me with greater ease.

I want to sleep well. To dream vividly. To have full access to the visions and guidance that are meant for me in this lifetime.

Where I Need Support

I often feel overwhelmed, stuck, frozen, or like I need to be alone just to cope. But I also yearn for closeness, love, and connection. I want to share my life—with a partner, with dear friends, with a circle that nourishes me.

I’m working on tending the dailiness of life with more grace:

• Eating: Learning what nourishes me, how much I need, and how to keep those things in my life with ease.
• Exercise: Inviting gentle, consistent movement into my days.
• Work: Honoring my word, communicating clearly, finishing what I start, and working with integrity.
• Money: Earning sustainably, receiving with gratitude, spending mindfully, and saving without fear.
• Feelings: Making room for my emotions, remembering it’s human to need time to feel and rest.
• Relationships: Balancing solitude with connection, reaching out and allowing others in, choosing what fills me up.
• Self-love: Being patient with all of me. Allowing space for all parts to exist and unfold.
• Motivation: Moving at a pace that is steady, realistic, and kind.
• Support: Knowing who I can reach out to—when I need help, reflection, guidance, or just someone to sit with me.

---

This isn’t a checklist—it’s a living prayer. A reminder that I am becoming, that I am allowed to tend to myself tenderly, and that what I’m healing doesn’t mean I’ve failed—it means I’m human and listening.

May these words accompany me along my path—a reminder that I’m not alone in my longing to know myself, to love my body, and to feel connected.

---

ABOUT THE PHOTO: I took this photo from the doorway of my office one evening in July, just as the sun was beginning to set. I longed to be out on the trail, breathing deeply, feeling held by the trees and the warm, waning light on my face. The red glow of the eucalyptus trees called to me. I felt the pull—but I stayed at my desk, opening the sliding glass door to let in the cool air. I took a deep breath and whispered a quiet prayer, “Help me make time for myself to be in nature—not as an afterthought, but as a sacred, intentional part of my day.” Something to be treasured like gold.