Remembering Who We Are: Walking Lightly Through New Beginnings

Morning by morning, we awaken—again. The past travels with us, but it does not get to drive. Our work is to honour what has shaped us while refusing to be defined by it. There is a holy art to ending well, blessing what is complete, and stepping—lightly—into beginnings.

To live this art, we practice remembering. Remembering is not nostalgia; it is identity. I remember that I am more than circumstance, diagnosis, or role. I remember I am a vast self temporarily wearing a small cloak.

Years in Toronto taught me this in my body: layers upon layers to meet the cold, only my eyes facing the wind. Then—plane door opens in Barbados—warm air rushes in, and the body uncoils, expanding like a balloon. Freedom. That is what soul-remembering feels like: the heavy garments of fear and history falling away as we step into climate and light that fit our truth.

When the gaze collapses to what’s immediately wrong—work friction, relationship strain, a body’s ache—we forget the sky. Healing often begins not where pain appears, but in the unseen fields of energy around the pain. Restoring flow in those subtle spaces loosens the knot in the visible one. Lift the eyes. Widen the frame. Let the larger picture breathe the smaller one.

So we return to practice: pause, go outside, lie on the grass, look up. Count stars. Feel the cathedral of night. Sense your belonging to a universe that is not “out there” but also in here. Remember: you are not separate. You are here for purpose—and for joy. Let the cloak be light. Walk homeward, one free breath at a time.

 

Short Meditation Script (3–4 minutes)

“Morning by morning, I awaken. I honour my past; I am not confined by it. I breathe in warm air; I loosen the coat. I lift my gaze from the small to the vast. I remember: I am light. I belong. Flow returns to my body, mind, and spirit. I step into this day free.”