underneath it. I did not have language for it then. I only knew that for one hour, in room full of strangers, I was not at war with myself, and I wanted to know how to make that last.
It took a long time. For years I drank, and for years I told myself a story about why that was fine. When I finally stopped, what came next was not a program of self improvement. It was the far more uncomfortable work of learning how to stay with myself without leaving. That is where this practice actually begins. It is also why I tend to recognize the story someone is telling themselves before they do. I told most of those stories first, and I know how convincing they are from the inside.
I taught yoga for five years, which is how I learned to hold a room. I trained in Kundalini and apprenticed after it. I became a Reiki practitioner and studied Holographic Sound. And then I found the tradition that gathered all of it: a long apprenticeship in the Divine Mother lineage, years of serving in temple immersions where blessing ceremonies ran three and four hours at a time, and finally an ordination as a priestess of this presence.
That last part is not a title I hold above anyone. It is a responsibility I carry into every room, and it means the work is not mine. I hold the space. She leads.