What I’m Learning Through Listening, Loving, and the Practice of Letting Go

Lately, I’ve been feeling like two different versions of myself are taking turns behind the wheel of my life.

There’s the Michelle who is fearless—driven, focused, determined to follow through on her dreams. She’s bold in her body, grounded in her clarity, and shows up without hesitation.

And then there’s the other Michelle—the one who wants to unplug from the world. She craves silence, solitude, simplicity. She wants to retreat, sip tea, lie in bed, and just breathe without anyone needing her for anything.

Both of these Michelles are me, I know that. But some days, the shift between them feels like whiplash. I swing from being deeply inspired to deeply exhausted. From eager action to complete overwhelm. From caring deeply to not wanting to small talk with another soul.

And what I’ve been learning through all of this, especially through my studentship in Ayurveda and the concept of prajnaparadha—when we know better but choose to ignore that inner wisdom—is that these swings are not failures. They’re invitations.

So today, I sat with these two parts of me and did an exercise that let them speak to each other.

This is what they had to say.

---

A Letter from One Version of Me to the Other

Dear Michelle,

I long to remember what it feels like to feel strong and confident, healthy and self-assured. There have been hints of your presence over the last decade, but each memory feels like it’s fading into the abyss.

I remember a time when you had so much vim and vigour for life—when you were determined to tackle anything and everything with confidence and clarity (and you did). When your body was lean and strong and your eyes sparkled with such a bright light.

I miss you so much. I miss how good it felt to live in that state. To feel confident in my skin, my body, my heart and my desires. I miss the independence and drive that feels so long forgotten.

And yet the Michelle who exists these days does very little to bring that version back to life. Or at least that’s what it feels like. So easily am I persuaded to go against what I want to do—all, I feel, out of fear of being a disappointment. Or maybe it’s FOMO. Or maybe I’m just complacent and this life is mimicking this sad version I feel like I’m living.

Anyhow, what I think I’m trying to say is that I miss you. And I hope that some day, sooner rather than later, you make your presence known again.

xo,
M

---

And the Reply That Came…

My dear Michelle,

I see you, my friend. I see you showing up for everyone and everything, day after day. Stretched thin, pulled in every direction but straight—all out of love and responsibility for those you care so deeply for.

I see you struggling to keep it all together and not lose yourself in the mess of it all.

It’s no wonder you feel exhausted and crave silence and solitude. And not because you don’t care. Not at all. But because you’re depleted. You haven’t had a chance to replenish the wells from which you give and give and give some more.

Your very lifeforce is working in overdrive to keep you going and, as much as that serves your family and responsibilities, it is draining the vitality out of you.

I don’t want to tell you what to do, but I do want you to know that supporting yourself is easier than you think. Hear me out before you roll your eyes and rebut…

The simplest thing you can do for yourself is listen.

Listen to what your body is saying.
Listen to what your heart whispers.
Listen to Nature and the natural world.

It’s in the listening that we truly understand what is being asked. From there, the possibilities are endless.

If your body craves stillness, lay down.
If your heart needs silence, breathe.
If your mind seeks solitude, journal.

Yes, taking action can be hard. In fact, taking action is the hardest thing for most people. But remember—action doesn’t have to move mountains. Sometimes, action is simply looking up at the mountain and taking in its beauty.

Lastly, I remind you to be patient and kind to yourself. As much as it might feel like there is a need to do it all now, there isn’t. That’s an illusion—an impossible task wrapped in urgency. Instead, take things day by day, one meal at a time, one conscious breath at a time.

I am not gone. I am still here with you, supporting you, holding you up when you’re ready to collapse.

I love you. I always have. Simply reach out.

Big love,
Me

---

Listening, Loving and Letting Go

May has been a month of shedding—of recognizing what’s no longer serving, and gently beginning to release it.

It hasn’t been easy.

Letting go never is, especially when the habits we hold are tangled up in identity, routine, or the expectations of others. But this month has reminded me that cleansing isn’t about being perfect or doing more. It’s about creating space—physically, emotionally, spiritually—to hear myself again.

And that’s exactly what I’m continuing to explore as we move into June.

The Radiant Reset begins soon, and while I’ll be guiding others through it, I’ll also be walking that same path. Not with pressure or perfectionism—but with curiosity, compassion, and a commitment to listening.

Listening to the quieter parts of myself, and practice loving what I find.

And, welcome courage so that I can practice, again and again, what it is to let go.

If you’re feeling the weight of the “shoulds” or noticing how often you override what you really need, this may be your invitation to reset alongside me.

Because healing doesn’t require us to change everything overnight.

It simply asks us to start listening—and then trust what we hear.

Big love

xoM