There was a time when I tried to be impeccable – endlessly giving, constantly holding. It wasn’t anyone’s demand; it was my own invisible rule.
Back then, when I was guiding people at the soul level. I always tried to hold the sky high and steady for every encounter. “To carry it all” I lived by.
There was beauty in that – the creativity, the devotion – the trust from all over the world. But also an exhaustion and pressure.
At some point, something in me shifted.
I didn’t want to be great anymore.
I wanted to be average. Ordinary, unexceptional in the most liberating way.
To be someone who also deserves to be looked after, forgiven, and allowed to be vulnerable. And to feel safe enough to be just that and mean it.
Wanting to be average and being average calmed me.
It freed me from the need to constantly hold everything up – the work, the people, the invisible worlds I used to tend to.
It gave me space to breathe, to speak honestly, to do things for myself without proving anything.
These days, day-to-day life brings me back to myself.
My needs are simple: to draw in good energy – from literature, art, food, sunlight, forests, familiar and unfamiliar streets that hum with life.
When the energy is right, the body softens. I can feel the nurturing shifts beneath the surface.
I used to be so hard on myself – to achieve, to be good, to be great. But great for what?
I once believed safety came from being great – that if I could only reach that standard, I’d be lovable, chosen, safe.
But what does “great” even mean? Who defines it? And for whom?
Now I see that what I once called “greatness” was only a reflection of fear.
True greatness, if it exists at all, grows the way everything beautiful in nature does – naturally, quietly, without force.
🌿 It simply unfolds when the soil is soft enough, when nutrition gathers, when nothing is rushed, when life is lived.
