Tis the Season

Today I’m writing to my blog readers again because I feel called to share something real.

For almost a year, I stepped out of the busy world and into myself—uninterrupted. I shed. I cried. I sat in meditation and prayer. I connected with like-minded people who understood the language of growth and healing. I even welcomed visits from my ancestors through dreams and travel, letting their presence guide me in quiet ways I can’t ignore.

I walked firmly out of old agreements that no longer fit the woman I’m becoming. I faced grief head-on instead of running from it. I rebuilt broken relationships where love still lived, and I learned to walk freely away from others where peace no longer existed. I did the work—real work—to find inner peace, happiness, and self-love. I built a sacred home inside myself.

Then… ’Tis the season.

I signed an agreement to sell my products somewhere I thought I could handle, and in one decision I walked right back into hell.

Almost immediately I was chased down by a familiar thunder—the kind of busy energy I recognized but believed I could face. The moment I walked inside, it sounded like a freight train. My soul started to shake.

At first, I tried to explain it away. I heard my soul whisper, “It’s been a while since you’ve been here… around this many people. Your nerves are just on edge.” But right behind that came the truth, clear as day: “You don’t want to be tied to this.”

I was so shaken I had to use the restroom. And for anyone who truly knows me, you know I don’t use public restrooms. I have to know you, trust you, feel safe in your space before my body will even allow that. But I was so wrecked that I went three times. That’s how loud my body was speaking.

When I finally caught my breath—when wisdom rose up through the panic—I found the person responsible for the agreement and said, “I cannot stay here.”

The moment those words left my mouth, I felt relief pour through me. Instant. Unmistakable. And I knew right then: I have worked too hard to disrespect my temple. I was about to sell in a place where my customers weren’t even present—yes—but more importantly, I would have been adding layers of unwanted baggage, poison, and heaviness back onto a self that is still shedding and still raw.

This experience stung. It was painful. But it also woke something up in me.

I am so aware now—of what I really see, what I smell, what I touch, what I taste, what I allow near me, and what I do not. Healing sharpened my senses. Peace changed my appetite. Self-love raised my standards.

And I am listening.