It took me some time to become an adult.
I remember that before, I was incapable of imagining what life would be like after forty. It was like there was this impenetrable wall of smoke and I couldn’t manage to see through it.
The unknown can be exciting, but it can also be frightening.
People make aging sound like something so terrible in our countries. We are so afraid of “letting our life pass us by.” We are so afraid of not recognizing ourselves in that person with wrinkles in the corners of their eyes. We are so afraid of losing our value in the eyes of society – and to be totally honest, those fears are justified.
Since I was afraid, I wanted to prepare for everything like you’d prepare for a long trip you’ll never come back from. I wanted to arrive at age forty with everything organized to perfection. A house, a husband, a child, a career, a dog.
A first-class ticket to soften the bitterness, basically.
And because I had tried to build all of that from a place of fear, I was living in the energy of fear. Fear instead of love. The fear that destroys everything.
So, when everything fell apart and I became the living incarnation of my fears, alone and childless after 40, I realized, in tears looking at the ruins of my former life, I was finally going to be able to start to grow.
Grow. Accept. Welcome. Question. And finally, let that fear go.
We can only overcome our fears by confronting them. My fear was majestic. I had lived with it stuck to me my entire life… but I had never actually recognized it.
I had studied it a lot, though. From a very young age, I was always looking for answers to my questions. I had always felt uncomfortable following the well-worn path, but being soft and obedient as I was, that dichotomy made me suffer.
I was constantly suffering from not feeling like I was in the right place.
It got to the point where I ended up accepting that feeling. I thought that was just life. Trying to conform to preconceived ideas of happiness — which all culminated in a few years of despair, with me smiling though I was crying inside – until I no longer had any idea who I was anymore.
And eventually that turned into depression.
I’ve heard people say that depression is the other side of the door to spirituality, and that was the case for me. That doesn’t mean this applies to everyone, and it doesn’t mean I have all the answers.
For me, depression was above all what motivated me in my quest for health – both physical and mental – because our bodies and minds are one in the same.
But it was also the permission I needed to accept that it was time to take care of myself. That I needed to heal, listen to myself, create rituals, and find new tools.
That’s what growing up means to me. Finally realizing that you’re not superhuman. And that you are your own parent, that the priority should be taking care of yourself before jumping into the race of life. And growing up is finally understanding that joy isn’t for tomorrow. Life isn’t about preparing the right bag full of obligations and imaginary goals for a trip into the unknown in the dark.
I’ve rediscovered my joy, my laugh, my passion.
A more authentic joy actually. One that’s not about attachment to things and people. Something simple and pure.
I’ve grown up alongside you, and today, nothing could make me happier than being a guide and a breath of fresh air in your lives. Whether it’s online or offline.
Which is why our retreats are so important to me.
Each one of our adventures is so special, we all come back changed.
And together, we learn to make life a little softer, to extinguish our fears, band together, find the tools that bring us peace, encourage us, and teach us how to be free and fulfilled.
Translated by Andrea Perdue
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