The initiation

Immersed in an accelerated society, that moves at a thousand miles an hour, a society that values ​​effort, excessive dedication, relentless work without rest and unwavering focus on the result; taking a break is a privilege we can only grant ourselves after working hard.

We are often so focused on external matters that we seldom pause to introspect and examine ourselves. The external noise can drown out the inner voice that is trying to speak.

It’s typically only when confronted with extreme situations, often imposed upon us from external sources or stemming from within our own bodies, that we are forced to pause and turn inward. Whether it’s an accident, an illness, the loss of a loved one, the upheaval of losing a job, or the challenges of a pandemic, these events compel us to look within ourselves and recognize the matters that need our attention. It’s during these moments of stillness and silence that the voices that have been quietly crying out for years finally find their chance to be heard.

The initial introspection can be both unsettling and distressing. The first inner voice we encounter might seem harsh and bewildering. Something communicates with us, something resides within us, yet it remains elusive, difficult to perceive or comprehend. Moreover, often, we’re reluctant to acknowledge or pay heed to it.

The initial approach can indeed be bewildering, marked by pain, sadness, a sense of helplessness, anxiety, and even anger.

Maintaining your focus on what surfaces, keeping your attention fixed on what speaks, demands courage, for it has much to convey, much to reveal, and not all of it is illuminated. Most of what it unveils pertains to what we attempt to conceal, disregard, or dismiss – either because it’s uncomfortable or because it’s painful.

In many cases, pain and discomfort serve as the initiation to the process of self-discovery, the journey back to our true selves, and the ticket to returning home.

Life often discomforts us with the sole purpose of shaking us, and through this shaking, it topples the masks and crutches we’ve used as escape mechanisms. When you confront yourself at this moment, you have the choice to either meet your own gaze or avoid it once more. There’s a promise that if you hold your gaze, even though the process may be painful, you will emerge as a more authentic and integrated individual. However, there’s also a warning that if you choose to evade once again, life will shake even harder in the future, leaving you with fewer opportunities to mask your true self.

Without the mask of constant acceleration, without the facade of the tireless worker, without the role of the spouse dedicated 24/7, without the mask of the devoted father or mother, without the busy professional persona, you stand bare before yourself. Your wounds remain exposed, yearning to be healed, and your inner child seeks the care it deserves. The question is: Are you prepared to embark on this journey? Will you opt to meet your own gaze, or will you choose to escape?