Once upon a time, there was a night when I asked the Earth to take me. I prayed and bled tears, begged for a hole to open beneath me and swallow me whole. The inner unravelling was too much to bear. I lay in a field of wild grass, the only light in a vast and aching dark was the swollen full moon, pregnant. The burning pain in my chest felt like the end of me and, what I didn’t see then, is that it was the end of me. I had nothing left but wails and salt and surrender. So, I asked for the ground to open – to draw me into its dark belly for one last holy decomposition.
But instead… it gave me an intensely clear vision. The sky above me cracked open – black, vast – and in it I saw my own hands: Torn, bloodied, shaking. Stars scattered all about the black canvas void. Bloodied hands worn from a life of trying – and failing. A voice, ancient and holy, whispered only three words: Weave with stars. Again and again: Weave with stars…
That was the beginning of a journey I never sought, never imagined, never understood – but one that rooted itself deeply in me. A journey into my own soul, into surrender, into motherhood, into mystery. I did not understand it then, but the words became a thread that stitched themselves into my being. They returned each time I faced the rawness of being human – each time life stretched me beyond what I thought I could hold. And in those moments, all I would hear was: Weave with stars…
Over the years I’ve come to know that weaving with stars is no small thing. It is to weave with the unseen. To live not from plans or formulas, but from presence, awareness, grace and love. It is to become the hands that do not know exactly what they are doing, only that they are… and that somehow, that is enough. It is more than enough, it is holy.
A few months ago, I saw those hands again in a vision… but this time, they were not bloodied or broken. They were simply working and weaving, working and weaving – steady, quiet, weaving woollen thread at a loom. Oh, they were working! And it was beautiful! As if each movement was a hymn of praise and love itself. So devoted to the weaving that they had forgotten that they were even doing anything. Suf… Suf… Suf… The accompanying sound. Suf… Suf… Suf… Weaving, weaving, weaving.
The vision wove its way into my tapestry of life. Calling me to understand new depths of living, loving and parenting. I am just a walking story, like any other. Etched and scarred. Patterns and prints woven into this soul being that I call ‘self’. The unravelling came to rip apart pieces of this self that were no longer serving my deep, authentic soul being. But what came after that absolute inner death… were the same two hands. Their essence changed and refreshed, their wounds healed somewhat – and they were dancing in front of a loom…
My visions became holy visitations – a voice no less than a hush from the unseen, a breath from beyond the veil. To name it would be sacrilege. It bids to remain ineffable. It didn’t arrive with thunder or fanfare but rather pressed itself into my being like an ancestral watermark, a sigil left behind by the unseen hands of time. I yearned – ached – for explanations, for the deeper architecture beneath all… and yet, only the smallest droplets of divine revelation ever reached me. Each one, a holy offering. I drank them thirstily like a parched beggar might sip from the cracked rim of a sacred chalice.
I opened my eyes inward; I opened unto myself through them. And quietly, over time, subtle yet searing revelations rose from my depths like long-forgotten stars coming home to light. They arrived unannounced and sat beside me like old friends, like soul-companions returning.
In their glow, she appeared too – my grandmother, by the stove, always by the stove, stirring, cooking, baking, singing her inner-compass hymns. Her weariness silent and hidden, her heart a willing altar. Her hands – those holy instruments – carried generations. She would rise at the drop of a hat to feed the congregation, while her own soul, her voice, her dreams, were often swallowed by the enormity of duty. Silenced in ways I cannot explain to another and yet… I saw her. I heard her. I listened with wide eyes and a vulnerable open heart. I became the miner of her stories, gently coaxing the jewels from her memory-caverns, treasures buried beneath years of self-sacrificial duty. I loved those moments when the veil of obligation lifted and she was simply herself – radiant, raw, luminous with soul-truth. Her own mythology, spoken aloud.
And over there – my grandfather. Stooped, yet always reaching toward some upright dignity, clutching at the fading echoes of a masculine patriarchy that made him, silently broke him, and shaped him into this becoming. He had to believe his way was the way, that safety could be found within the known scaffolding of dictated belief. He holds such a posture of grace beneath his now translucent sheath of skin – fragile, luminous. His spine reflects the architecture of burdens, his pain a map of a lifetime spent carrying the unseen. I often watched him and wondered at the mirror between his body and his soul. And when he crossed over recently, I saw him again – his great hands stretched out in trust, drawn forward by a hidden pull, a current of divine magnetism. Love had come full circle. His ninety-year love affair with his Beloved had reached its crescendo and, at last, he surrendered – into the arms of the One he had walked with in gardens, in song, in bowed reverence. Together we would often cry, ask for forgiveness and forgive freely. The two of them – my holy grandparent duo – never closed the door of love toward me when I strayed from their beliefs. Instead, they held open the gate of unconditional love so I might wander where I felt called, even when it diverged from their own sacred grove. Somehow, they saw the infinite threads I worked with in my heart. Through them, I heard the hushed echoes of ancestral prayers – sent from lips I never knew, in tongues my mind cannot recall. Yet my body remembered. My blood remembered. A rhythm older than language stirred inside me, like a breath more ancient than time itself.
As foreign and peculiar as my perspectives may have seemed to them, there were moments when they received them – softly – and glanced back to the tapestries of their own lives. In their quiet way, they honoured my deep longing to create something new, something free, something radiant with joyous light. Unknowingly, they urged me to listen again to the long-forgotten art of the heart… the naked soul reaching forward, always seeking renewal and the sweetness of rediscovery. Their eyes would begin to glow, their bodies subtly illuminate, as they held my children close – breathing into them the forgotten dreams of our ancestors. They whispered silent prayers into the folds of time, prayers for the generations to come, hoping they might, just maybe, weave something new and release what has long been lost.
And my children know. Yes – they know it too. Not yet in words, but in shimmering, half-remembered ways that hover just beyond my reach, rippling through the cosmic waters. It is too mystical to fully grasp, yet their marrow and bones speak it to the morning sun and the moon at night. Quietly, they write soul-notes of their own, composing the strands of their tapestry, their own orchestral becoming.
And so, I stay here, with it all. In front of the golden loom of life. In stillness. In awe. Listening. Feeling. And in return I am held and guided by the rhythmic murmur beneath all things. Suf… Suf… Suf…
Eight sparkling eyes look to me daily, as though I know it all. And yet I know exactly how little I know. But I’ve come to understand that, as a human, I am the living, breathing touchpoint between the ancient past and the unborn future. The vessel through which soul, lineage and destiny converge in the now. I am the weaver – one thread drawn from the ancestral memory of all that came before, the other from the invisible realms of promise. I simply weave, with the hands of the present, holding both threads ever so lightly, reverently. In every conscious breath I take, with every intuitive act of love, I can weave something ancient and something new into the fabric of now. Humble fingers guided by the invisible – not perfectly skilled, but ever so immensely willing – holding the threads of both the memory and the dreams. In this way, I am not just raising children, I am not just a friend, not just a lover or partner, I am stewarding the evolution of life itself – one sacred moment at a time.
Weaving… Suf… Suf… Suf…
All throughout this journey – through the unravelling and the returning, through unfathomable visions and veiled working hands – suf suf suf became the subtle pulse beneath my existence. A silent mantra, plucking the tender chords of my heart over and over again. With every breath, every ache, every offering of presence, it strums me from within. To me it is not a word, but onomatopoeia in full bloom. A vibration subtly permeating all things. It is something I feel in my bones, the spiral of becoming. The quiet whisper of life weaving itself through human form, not a mantra to speak, but a current I hear in the sacred and holy stillness of the heart’s fulcrum. When breath slows, when thought dissolves, when only the thread of presence remains. It is the sound of weaving. The Divine moving through matter. The soul stitching time. In that sacred rhythm, I am no longer the doer. I am no longer trying to hold the pattern. I simply become the act of weaving itself. Becoming the breath that binds the threads. It is time undoing itself… and beginning again.
When I feel it, I am not meditating. I am not ‘doing’ anything. I am weaving with the Great Weaver. Here, I simply participate in the sacred act of holding the fabric of time together – through breath, through presence, through the yes in my bones.
Suf suf suf… the whisper of surrender between what was and what will be – the sacred yes between mother and child, between ancestor and unborn, between lover and loved, between soul and Source.
Suf. Suf. Suf.
Meet Thought Leader, Gérraine Rozenkrantz KwazuluSpirit Festival 25.07.2025 Book your Ticket
About Gérraine Rozenkrantz: Gérraine Rozenkrantz is a seasoned NLP, EFT, mBIT Master Coach, with a BA (Hons.) Psych. Counselling degree, Gérraine brings all her experience into her daily life and surroundings with vigour! She lives fully and believes anyone can create their dream life, interwoven with grace, wisdom, love and joy. She touches hearts and lives through her writing, by hosting various workshops and with public speaking engagements. Her passion towards conscious parenting is founded on her love of working with relationships holistically, honouring it as a living ecosystem of flow. Beyond her professional pursuits, Gérraine is just a homeschooling mom of four gorgeous souls, a passionate writer, weaving mystical insights into everyday life to inspire transformation. For her, life is a daily practice of infusing spiritual awareness into every moment, with as much fun as possible. She finds immense joy in exploring the world with her adventurous spirit, as she believes that each experience is there to enrich our understanding of ourselves and the universe.
We often hear the phrase “don’t look back”—as if our past holds us hostage or distracts us from the present. But what if looking back isn’t about getting stuck in old stories or regrets, but rather a quiet invitation to remember what we’ve come through, what we’ve seen, and how life has gently shaped us along the way?
I’ve spent over four decades in the personal development field, and if there’s one thing I’ve come to see, it’s that nothing from our past is wasted. Even the messy bits. Especially the messy bits.
In my 60s now, with more behind me than ahead, I find myself looking back more often—but not with nostalgia or regret. I look back to listen. To see the threads. To recognise the grace I couldn’t see at the time. And to marvel at how every single detour, breakdown, heartbreak, and unexpected turn somehow carried a seed that would blossom later.
Life Doesn’t Waste Anything There were times in my life when I would have preferred to skip ahead. Times when it felt like life had gotten it all wrong. But when I look back now, I can see the deeper intelligence that was always at work—even when I couldn’t feel it.
I remember being in my 30s, full of ambition and seeking success in all the ways I thought I should. I was ticking boxes, making plans, and doing all the “right things.” But something always felt off, like I was chasing a version of life that didn’t fit. Back then, I thought the discomfort was a sign I needed to try harder or fix myself.
But when I look back now, I see that discomfort for what it was: wisdom. A subtle nudge from life saying, “Not this way.”
That wisdom—though often disguised as restlessness, sadness, or confusion—was always present. It didn’t come from books or experts. It came from the stillness beneath the noise of my thoughts. The same stillness that’s here now, when I pause to listen.
Seeing Through New Eyes One of the most beautiful things about revisiting the past from a quieter, more present place is that you begin to see it through new eyes.
Instead of judging or analysing, I now simply notice. I see how much of my struggle came from believing thoughts that weren’t true. Thoughts that said I wasn’t enough. That I needed to achieve more. That something was missing.
And yet, when I look closer, I see that even those false beliefs had a role to play. They eventually wore me out in just the right way. They brought me to my knees—humbled, cracked open, and willing to see life differently.
I used to think transformation came from striving. Now I see it comes from softening.
The Beauty of Broken Places Looking back has also helped me soften toward the parts of myself I used to judge. The insecure teenager. The anxious young mother. The woman who pushed too hard, said the wrong thing, stayed too long, or left too soon.
There’s something deeply healing about honouring our younger selves—not to indulge them, but to acknowledge their innocence. To see how hard they tried. To thank them for getting us here.
I used to cringe at some of my past choices. Now I see them with tenderness. They were made from the level of understanding I had at the time. And from that understanding, they made perfect sense.
There’s no point in arguing with the past. It’s not a puzzle to solve. It’s a story that continues to reveal its meaning as we grow.
Let the Past Serve You, Not Define You One of the greatest gifts of looking back with presence is that it liberates us from being defined by the past. We don’t have to drag it forward like a heavy suitcase. But we can let it inform us. Guide us. Humble us. Remind us of how far we’ve come.
Every time I revisit a moment that once felt impossible, I remember that I survived. I learned. I healed. And that gives me courage when life feels uncertain again—which it always will.
Looking back isn’t about staying stuck in the past. It’s about honouring the terrain we’ve crossed so we can walk forward with more clarity, more compassion, and more trust in life itself.
There’s Nothing to Fix One of the most profound things I’ve seen over the years is that there’s nothing broken in us. Our default setting is wellbeing. Peace is not something we earn—it’s something we return to.
Looking back helps us see this truth more clearly. We see the times we were carried, even when we felt lost. We see the moments of grace that arrived when we stopped trying to figure everything out. We see how life keeps offering us a new beginning, moment to moment.
You don’t have to wait to become someone else to feel whole. The version of you reading these words—right now—is already enough. Already wise. Already whole.
Let Life Surprise You If I’ve learned anything from the past, it’s that life has a way of surprising us—often when we let go of the reins.
Some of the most beautiful chapters of my life weren’t the ones I planned. They emerged when I surrendered. When I stopped trying to control every outcome and started listening more deeply.
Looking back reminds me that the future rarely looks like we imagine. And that’s a good thing. Life is far more creative than we are.
Let the Thread Lead You There’s a thread running through your life. Maybe you’ve seen it. Maybe you haven’t. But it’s there.
It’s the thread that pulls you toward what feels real. The thread that whispers, “This way.” The thread that connects your past to your present to your future—not as a straight line, but as a spiral, an unfolding, a dance.
Looking back helps you trace that thread. Not to hold on to it, but to see where it’s leading. It reminds you that there’s always been something bigger at play. Something trustworthy. Something that knows the way—even when you don’t.
You’re Already on the Path So if you find yourself looking back lately, let it be an act of reverence. Of gratitude. Of curiosity.
Let it be a way of seeing how much you’ve grown, how much you’ve learned, and how deeply life loves you.
And then, when you’re ready, turn toward what’s next—not with fear, but with openness.
You don’t need to have it all figured out. Just bring your whole self forward. The one who’s walked through fire and joy, tears and triumph. The one who knows how to get back up. The one who’s never really been lost.
You are not starting over. You are continuing the sacred unfolding of your life.
Look back. And then walk on.
“If the only thing people learned was not to be afraid of their experience, that alone would change the world.” Sydney Banks
Meet Thought Leader, Sharon Castle KwazuluSpirit Festival 26 & 27.07.2025 Book your Ticket
About Sharon Castle: Sharon Castle is a transformational coach, mentor, and founder of Mindfit Coaching Academy. With over 40 years of experience in the personal development field and more than a decade working from the inside-out understanding known as the 3 Principles—mind, consciousness, and thought—she helps others return to their innate wellbeing and reconnect with the intelligence behind life. Through her writing, coaching, and speaking, she invites people to slow down, listen inward, and rediscover the freedom of being fully alive. Known for her down-to-earth style, deep insight, and lived wisdom, Sharon brings warmth, humility, and a spiritual perspective to all she does. At 66, she’s living proof that peace, vitality, and purpose are not destinations—they are available right here, in the present moment.
What if the future is like a tree, with many potential branches growing from every present moment? Some potential futures are strong, like thick branches; others are weak little twigs.
What if, when we focus on trying to predict the future, it’s like taking a chainsaw and cutting all the other possibilities away?
When I became an accidental professional psychic at the age of 16, this was exactly the dilemma I faced. At the age of 13, I had dedicated my life to wisdom – it was a desperate dark-night-of-the-soul plea to find a reason to live that was bigger than the pain of being alive. I had chosen wisdom because the word represented deep answers to life’s biggest questions.
Only three years later, when my mother asked what I wanted for my 16th birthday, I asked for tarot cards. In my pursuit of wisdom, I’d stumbled across the idea that the one and only thing I could test was my intuition. Maybe intuition could help me find wisdom. Maybe intuition could give me a way to find answers for myself instead of relying on surrogate truth – the beliefs everyone asked me to swallow whole without question.
Now, you must understand that back then, tarot cards were contraband. This was in the 80s, when even Pink Floyd’s song Brick in the Wall had been banned in South Africa. The only shop my mother could find my taboo birthday gift in was in Hillbrow. But bless her – she bought me a tarot deck. The cutest, least frightening-looking deck, mind you: Hanson-Roberts. So there I was on my 16th birthday, enjoying my special gift, sitting in a caravan – because that was all my parents could afford for a weekend holiday. The irony is not lost on me. With only the small instruction booklet to guide me, I made up how to choose cards and ‘read’ them.
Studying the meanings and practising non-stop all Saturday, I was still at it on Sunday when my mom’s best friend joined our family for lunch. “Are those tarot cards?” Mom’s friend squealed with delight – she was a big fan. “You’ve got to do a reading for my boyfriend.” She insisted, despite my arguing that I was a one-day-old Tarot Reader. But she got her way. I’m not sure who was more awkward – the boyfriend or me – as I randomly pulled cards from the deck for past, present and future. Even in those early moments, I saw that the real power of the cards wasn’t in the pieces of paper printed in China. The cards were a comfort blanket, helping me focus my intuition.
The reading sounded something like me fumbling with these impressions: “Your past card shows… a woman… the swords represent stress… she had mental fatigue and there’s a feeling of being trapped. Your present card – there’s a struggle, delays and you’re feeling worried. And the future… well, that looks lovely. Ace of Cups is new love, celebrations and hope.”
He went pale and, without saying a word, got up and walked away. I was summoned to the caravan by my mother, but instead of getting into trouble, I was greeted by a glowing, proud mom and her friend saying, “I knew my Col was special.” They told me I’d revealed a secret her boyfriend was keeping from her – about a past girlfriend who had a mental breakdown and whom he was still visiting in hospital to support. Despite arguing that I knew none of these things, my mom’s friend announced that she would be referring clients to me for readings – which is exactly what she did. And so, my accidental career as a teenage psychic began. I was terrified. The only reason I said yes was because, despite the fear, this felt like my chance to put this intuition thing to the test, to appease my sceptical mind and try to find wisdom.
For the next few years, I would get home from school, change, wolf down a quick lunch, then receive clients. The readings were stressful, but they gave me enough proof to be satisfied that there was something else – this intuition thing was real, but complex. What I loved were the moments in a reading when, despite the client saying nothing and giving no clues, I was able to deliver specific, mind-blowing details about the past and present. Things like, “You have three children… your youngest… a son… is in trouble at school… for stealing a car.”
That’s when things would unravel. I was satisfied – my Sherlock Holmes hat was still on and I wanted to figure out how and why this worked. But they weren’t interested in that. These vulnerable adults, sometimes 20 years my senior, would hand me their power with the dreaded question, “So Colleen, tell me about my future.”
I’d squirm and stutter, because truly, whenever I tuned into the future, I felt more than one. Some wispy possibilities mixed with firmer, more solid timeline branches. When I tried to explain this to my clients, they would argue, “I know you can see, Colleen. Is it that bad that you don’t want to tell me?”
And when I bowed to the pressure and said, “There is only a potential,” and “You can choose a different path,” these were ignored. I’d hear months later only how spot-on my predictions were – and how they would refer even more clients to me.
Please don’t get me wrong. I am beyond grateful for those years and have no issue with the role of an ethical psychic, which has its place. But I was after wisdom. After three years of accurate work, I felt hollow. I wanted to empower clients, not just impress them. And ultimately, I had to admit the truth: Being psychic did not mean being wise. So, I gave up my role as a teen psychic, pretending that I’d ‘lost my abilities’ to stop clients from calling. What happened with these abilities surprised me. In my 20s and 30s, I learned to use the same fundamentals those testing years gave me – but I put them to work learning how to build my wisdom well (access inner wisdom).
A few important insights I found along the way:
To do psychic work, I needed to not care, to feel empty (which is why I couldn’t read for loved ones or myself).
To do wisdom work, the opposite was true. I needed to care, to feel love – which meant I could access wisdom for myself and for anyone (once I learned to feel love for everyone).
The common key was still attention and intention. I saw that intention guided subtle attention. Like choosing which radio station to tune in to, it was an inner decision that sent attention like an ambassador to find the gold.
For psychic work, I sent attention to find impressive ‘hits’ about someone’s past and present.
For wisdom work, I sent attention deeper than ‘the surface mind’, to still, quiet knowing – like a bucket lowered into water.
What I found surprised me. Wisdom was powerfully healing – like water healing the dry, dead surface of things. Wisdom opened anything that was closed. It opened my heart. Healed my shyness. Gave me strength and clarity, often daily. And it took me home to my true being and true seeing, where our inner student lives with our inner teacher.
It also showed me how to support others deeply and help them claim their true being and seeing – and find their inner teacher.
This became the guiding force in my life. I spent decades learning how to improve my ability to access wisdom and tell it apart from ego – to translate silent being and seeing into words. As a result, everything changed.
What about the future and predictions? When I have asked Wisdom about the future, I have still felt timelines as potentials. But instead of feeling afraid and closed, Wisdom shows me that we are ‘equal to’ all futures. The sovereignty of the true self is equal to the worst and best of life.
A mistake I used to make in the earliest years was believing that a closed feeling was an intuitive ‘no’ – like a ‘not this way’ – when choosing possible options and opportunities. And so, like a compass, I only followed the open feelings, thinking they were intuitive ‘yeses’ about which branch of the tree to focus on. But this was not true.
Wisdom showed me that:
OPEN meant only that I was seeing clearly. I was equal to that path.
CLOSED meant I was not seeing clearly. I was not equal to that path. Fear, ignorance, or not feeling equal to it was blocking my ability to see true.
This insight was life-changing. It meant that I was choosing only futures and options that I was already seeing clearly and felt equal to. Fear, which feels closed, was the chainsaw cutting away possible new futures for me.
My job was to help my heart, mind and body get equal to all possible futures – to turn closed feelings into open ones. And then, only then, in the inner peace and strength of this, could I see all options clearly enough to choose.
When all options felt open, then I could shift my attention to notice which open path felt as if there were a flow – a flow of love, inspiration, energy, or interest. As if the life force were stronger there. This, I came to see, was my way of knowing, ‘This is my path. This is the branch of the tree for me to nurture.’
When a pipe is closed, there is no flow. A lack of clear seeing blinds us intuitively to futures we could be saying yes to.
The truth is, we want a way to predict the future to avoid pain – which I’ve tried hundreds of times. It’s normal to want to protect ourselves and our loved ones. My ego and fear didn’t like the answer Wisdom gave me about this, but the truth of it was freeing:
“There is no pain-free path for the river to flow down a mountain. But there is a way to increase the flow, so that your life river can meet all obstacles with courage and the strength to overcome.”
Today, at 54 years old this year, I thank my teenage self for her courage. I am almost always tuned in to when I feel closed – because that’s when I know there is inner work to do. That’s where Wisdom is being called to heal.
Then I find the clarity of seeing that opens. When I feel open and equal to the paths before me – to saying ‘yes’ and ‘no,’ to ‘this way’ and ‘that,’ to success and failure, to tough days and good days – then I can feel the answer to the question:
“Where does love want to move today?”
And love, which is life itself, creates with quiet power.
Colleen-Joy MCC, a Master Coach Mentor and the driving force behind the InnerLifeSkills brand, invites you to join her global community of leaders, coaches, seekers of wisdom and visionaries who make a living making a difference. Colleen has taught over 35 000 people in 60 countries, delivering over 4 000 classes and talks. Two documentary television features have been made about her life story and she’s been a regular expert television and podcast guest for over 20 years. Join her online internationally ICF-accredited Master Coach classes and enjoy her many free resources.
Experience The Enlightened Enneagram – Sunday 27 July 10:30 With Colleen-Joy at the KwazuluSpirit Festival Find out how to turn the ‘9 Personality Prisons’ into ‘Paths to Enlightenment’. Colleen-Joy shares practical wisdom using the Enneagram. Her online certifications sell out months in advance, making this a wonderful opportunity to learn how to use the Enneagram for yourself or to guide others. Download and complete Colleen’s free PDF Self-Scoring Enneagram Tutorial Test – www.kwazuluspirit.com/enneagram
Meet Thought Leader, Colleen-Joy KwazuluSpirit Festival 26 & 27.07.2025 Book your Ticket
About Colleen-Joy: Colleen-Joy trains natural coaches and leaders online to become in-demand, wisdom-led ‘InnerLifeSkills Master Coaches’ with door-opening ICF certification. She also guides an exclusive group of licensed ‘Wisdom Partners’ in building conscious international businesses.
Her free monthly masterclasses and video courses can be found at innerlifeskills.com. Her paid Master Coach certification courses often sell out four months in advance.
‘Equal to’ – Spiritual Living with Colleen-JoyThe wisdom teaching that helped me speak on stages, face conflict and build an abundant business
Whenever I’ve faced tough things – mountain-high decisions, hurtful relationships, painful consequences, speaking on stages around the world, health problems and the fear of “What if…” – Wisdom helped me with this teaching.
This single, simple insight helped me claim peace-filled power and the courage to get unstuck.
Here is the teaching.
Wisdom: You are not ‘minus’. You are not ‘plus’. You are ‘equal to’
How many times does our ego and body’s survival response have us posture as ‘minus’ (hiding, minimising, avoiding) or ‘plus’ (exaggerating, trying too hard, controlling)?
What if neither of these is true?
When I notice I feel ‘minus’ – less than a challenge, inferior to another person, stuck in doubt or fear – I take a few minutes to face and get ‘equal to’ the imagined worst thing I’m afraid of. My fear of loss or failure, clinging to something or someone, my hoping to be seen as clever, good, or kind. This stops me from overcompensating by swinging into ‘plus’ – trying too hard, exaggerating or feeling superior.
This has helped me speak on stages, turn nightmares into new realities of abundance, set boundaries in relationships, heal from loss and face the daily challenges of being human.
It’s my wish for you to find the peaceful power of being ‘equal to’.
Here are four applications of the ‘Equal To Wisdom’.
‘Equal to’ judgement
Back in my late 20s, I was mid-speech to a small group of about 70, teaching intuition skills. A short, grey-haired man sitting in the back row, his cheeks flushed red, interrupted me mid-sentence and shouted, “Nonsense!”
Now that he had our attention, he continued, “This intuition thing is rubbish.”
It felt like a gut punch. I wanted to attack, to defend my point of view. Who does he think he is? How rude.
All eyes were on me.
If I let my first instinctive response take charge, I would position as ‘plus’, trying to make him feel as small and ‘minus’ as he’d made me feel.
But I knew another way. I felt deeper inside myself for wisdom, setting an intention to be ‘equal to’ this man and this moment. This created a new choice.
‘Equal to’, I thought to myself. This can feel like bowing, accepting, understanding and owning.
I invited myself to be ‘equal to’ his point of view, ‘equal to’ his interruption and ‘equal to’ his fiery personality. It’s more like the fulcrum of a pendulum that is stable – its ‘equal to’ both extremes.
‘Equal to’, I repeated until I could feel the contraction in my gut, heart and mind release. With more openness, a different way of responding arose.
I smiled (a real smile) and said, “Well, you know, for the price of popcorn and a movie, if you want to think of this talk as cheap bad entertainment, you’re welcome.”
He looked puzzled for a moment but then also smiled. “Touché,” he replied. And I simply continued my talk.
Ironically, he became a regular student and we had a lovely connection for a couple of years.
Being criticised comes with the job of being a mentor and coach, so I’ve used this wisdom often.
‘Plus’ and ‘minus’ are two sides of the same coin. They are both survival instincts expressed through ego. They’re not wrong or right, but they create more of the same. When someone positions as ‘plus’ to intimidate you, you may feel like you only have two choices – to act small and ‘minus’ or to attack back as ‘plus’.
If someone positions as ‘minus’ you might join them or feel sorry for them as you position in a ‘plus’ – which is different to empathy.
‘Equal to,’ like the fulcrum of the pendulum, is the state of compassionate detachment. It is giving cleanly without needing anything in return and receiving gifts gratefully without guilt. I believe it also gives others the opportunity to leave their ‘plus-minus’ state, where we can meet on the ‘equal to’ bridge of understanding. And even if the other remains ‘plus’ or ‘minus,’ you are free of the entanglement.
What would it give you to be free of the positive and negative judgments of others?
‘Equal to’ “What if!” –
Our minds hold us to ransom with imagined outcomes.
When we get truly ‘equal to’ the best and worst imagined outcomes, we take back our peaceful power and claim what I call the ‘untouchable self’ – the true self.
“Colleen, what do you suggest I do?” my student asked, panic in her voice. “I’m facing a custody hearing this Friday. I’m terrified of losing custody of my children, but my ex-husband has money and influence. I can’t sleep. I don’t know what to do.”
I explained my ‘Equal To Outcomes’ process:
First, visualise the worst-case scenario your mind is imagining. Picture yourself in a scene where the worst is happening – not to traumatise yourself, but simply to face what your imagination is already holding over you. Picture the conversations you need to have, face the loss and witness the events.
Then, imagine that the worst is over – that it’s in the past. Place yourself in a safe, tranquil scene of your choosing, whether a peaceful spot in nature or a comfortable room. Breathe, let go and tell yourself that the worst has passed.
Now, search for what I call the ‘untouchable self’ by asking: “Even though the worst has happened, what is still true that life cannot take from me?” Contemplate this and claim one or more untouchable truths.
Over the years, I’ve heard responses like: My ability to experience love, beauty, peace and joy. Others have said: I still have my creativity, humour, talents and purpose.
Breathe in these truths, allowing your heart, mind and body to absorb them. Show yourself that even if the worst happens, these untouchable truths remain. This is how we take back our peaceful power.
Finally, notice how your feelings about the imagined worst scenario have shifted. With the untouchable truths to strengthen you, face the worst and feel the words, “I am ‘equal to’ this.”
Once we’ve completed facing the worst-case scenario and claiming the untouchable truths, it helps to also face the best-case scenario, where hidden fears and resistance sometimes hide.
So, we repeat the same process, but this time facing the best outcome.
I offered this process to my student as a way of preparing for her custody battle. A week later, at her next class, she told me what had happened.
“Col, I did what you said, even though I was worried that by imagining the worst, I would be attracting it. When I faced the worst-case scenario, I cried a lot, but the truth I found was that my children would always be my children, even if I lost legal custody. This did bring me peace. What surprised me was that when I faced the best, I realised my ex-husband would also always be their father. This was also my untouchable truth.
“When I went to the custody hearing, I was not as afraid and I was much more present. I was less triggered by my ex and more open to giving him a place. Amazingly, we agreed to shared custody, which I never thought was possible.”
How would it feel for you to feel ‘equal to’ your mind’s ‘what if worst and best future outcomes’?
‘Equal to’ failure and success
In the early years of building my business, overwhelmed by decision-making fatigue and cash flow nightmares, I would regularly use my own ‘equal to’ process to imagine the collapse of my business.
I would face needing to disappoint many people, handle the complexity of financial debt and accept the loss of my dream. Then I would claim my untouchable truths – that wisdom, intuition, and my apple tree purpose would still be true even if my business failed.
In this space of clear seeing, I would sometimes ask myself, “If it all collapsed, what would I do next?”
And each time, I knew – I would build it again. Then I’d face the best-case scenarios, getting ‘equal to’ new levels of complexity, responsibility and abundance.
I’ll tell you, each time I got ‘equal to’ a new level of monthly income in this way – by feeling the reality of the bigger numbers – without fail, my business would earn those new, bigger numbers within a few months.
By learning to be ‘equal to’ both the failure and success of every project, from sending emails to my database to pitching for life-changing multimillion deals, I’ve stayed in the flow.
Because, as wisdom has taught me, when we are not ‘equal to’ our imagined futures, we hold back our life river – then wonder why even the smallest rock blocks us. When we are ‘equal to’, we open the full power of our river of life, ‘equal to’ the rocks and waterfalls ahead of us and so we flow around and over them with grace and courage.
‘Equal to’ human and divine
I’ll leave you with a fable that an Indian friend, who used to be a monk, once shared with me.
“The big bird represents our expanded, higher consciousness. The small bird represents our human, limited consciousness. By trying to be the big bird, we keep ourselves as the small bird. Only by accepting our small bird does the big bird automatically arise.”
Being ‘equal to’ being human – the best and the worst of it – is how we discover the true self.
My final message to you.
May you be ‘equal to’ the valleys and summits of life. Know yourself as ‘equal to’ pain and pleasure, gain and loss. This is the true self.
After recovering from a home invasion armed robbery years ago, I asked wisdom if I had attracted this traumatic event into my life. This is what wisdom showed me:
“Winter is not your fault. Do you have any idea the courage of your soul to be born, to bleed and to die? You are that which is ‘equal to’ life. You are that sovereign being.”
Meet Thought Leader, Colleen-Joy KwazuluSpirit Festival 26 & 27.07.2025 Book your Ticket
About Colleen-Joy: Colleen-Joy trains natural coaches and leaders online to become in-demand, wisdom-led ‘InnerLifeSkills Master Coaches’ with door-opening ICF certification. She also guides an exclusive group of licensed ‘Wisdom Partners’ in building conscious international businesses.
Her free monthly masterclasses and video courses can be found at innerlifeskills.com. Her paid Master Coach certification courses often sell out four months in advance.
Part One by Megan de Beyer Conscious Parenting Indaba Speaker
‘Human society prospers best when it functions according to the principles that operate in the natural world.’
I’m curious; ‘How can we parent, keeping the earth in mind?’ ‘What does nature and the earth teach us about how to parent?’
After nearly 30 years as a psychologist, I completed another master’s in 2012, in holistic ecology, a subject that examined complex adaptive systems and our place in the greater ecology. It awakened in me not only a deeper knowledge of our planet, my home, and being within the web of life, but also my awe of and gratitude for all that is of nature. I discovered that wisdom means listening within, to a more refined or higher consciousness. From an inner stillness, I listen closely to an evolutionary impulse that flows easily through the natural world. There is an intelligence and a guidance when we engage with nature’s rhythms and cycles. In all the times I was counselling people indoors and running workshops for thousands of parents in cold classrooms, I was actively seeking personal time in nature to resource myself. For me the wild is not about danger, it is rather about feeling a part of the life that formed from almost 2.4 billion years of adaptation and growth. Nature is our teacher and our ally and we need to listen to the lessons we are being taught. Living systems can give us the key to how to parent – illuminating ways for us to do so that are meaningful and valid, no matter what age, gender, background, interests, capabilities or temperament of the children we parent.
I believe that bringing nature closer into our homes is pretty straightforward, if one follows these three ways:
1. Running sustainable or ‘green’ homes, engaging our children in simple practices that uphold ecological value – recycling, composting, using bio-friendly cleaning products, planting pots or our garden with healthy vegetables and herbs and so on.
2. Finding a local environmental cause that’s easy for teenagers to engage in, like picking up plastic from oceans, cleaning up trails, clearing aliens, planting gardens that attract birds and bees or supporting animal projects.
3. Spending more time outdoors, hiking or camping or generally encouraging our teens in sports that take them onto the earth, into the sea or up mountains.
For me there is a fourth route, which could have the biggest impact and alter the way future generations live. It points to raising our consciousness and widening our perspective. I think it can help inform parents today and lessen their anxieties.
How do we parent as a living system? How do we learn to parent from nature’s principles? And mostly, can we let the rhythms of nature inform us about what our children’s lives need?
4. This fourth way changes how we think about our place in the world, enabling us to develop values and beliefs that are in synch with or come from nature’s wisdoms. We have sculpted a transactional world that ignorantly exploits nature’s resources and objectifies the wilderness as a utility. It’s always about what we can ‘get’ or how we benefit. Yet, how to follow nature’s lead? The simplistic answer is to examine how animals’ parent. There are many clear examples of tough love and strict rules in the wild – lionesses who train their cubs using growls, tail flicks and hard wallops and bites. We would use the word instinctual or fierce survival-parenting here. There are genetically inbred cues that all mammals obey. Generally, though, parents in the wilds appear to use a ‘top-down approach’ and this was not the practical example that I was searching for.
As parents we want the ‘good life’ for them – but what is this? Image, status, fabulous holiday destinations… often seem a priority. Yet, stress, anxiety and poor mental health are showing up in buckets! Maybe we need what matters the most. The basics: The happiness in our homes.
I believe that, by improving a family’s connection and commitment to nature, all the necessary bio-psycho-social aspects can be addressed at the same time. By this I mean physical health, mental wellness, empathy and pro-social behaviours – all proven to improve with increased immersion in nature. There is an urgent need for parents to help children and teens reconnect to nature as a way of healing, of reconnecting to the values that will help our planet recover from its endangered position. As parents we need an ‘ecosophy’ that promotes a way of being in the world that minimises harm to nature while enhancing feelings of awe, wonder and belonging and, in so doing, to align homes with the mother of all homes, Gaia. In his book Nature Principle, Richard Louv says it is necessary for every aspect of being human – from our senses, intellect, bodies, emotional, mental and spiritual development – as well as for strengthening our bonds to others and all living creatures. There is a growing awareness that a child’s or teen’s access to nature is not a luxury but a necessity for health and mental wellbeing. Numerous psychological studies have confirmed that ‘indoor childhoods’ are causing psychological and health problems. In his book, Beyond Ecophobia, David Sobel suggests that children today associate nature with danger and apocalypse. We no longer let our young teens explore, we demand no mess and we emphasise the dangers of spiders and snakes, of falling out of trees, or of getting lost.
Living systems
An ecosystem is an example of a living system. It is always in dynamic relationship with all its parts. Biology tells us that ecosystems have a reciprocal and an adaptive relationship with their niche.. Your teenager’s niche may be school and home and it constantly influences him. He may be influenced by a relationship with a sibling and by the values of the school he attends and both may impact on his character and behaviour. He, in turn, adapts to his niche but he also influences it. As parents we like to look for blame or the cause of a problem yet, with this view, there is no real cause but rather a series of interactions that have no real beginning or end. This view asks us to listen more, understand more and have a much wider view. We did not create our children; it happened naturally in line with the principles of evolution.
Let’s look at ways to apply these unifying principles to what shows up in our homes and families. Everything in relationship. Nature, the largest living system, is all about co-operating and networking in constant reciprocity. There are no strict separations – there may be boundaries, like the bark on a trunk of a tree, but most are permeable. It is very difficult to find one thing in nature that actually operates completely separately. The smallest flower relies on the system in which it is nested. There is a constant interconnection, communication and resource-sharing on so many levels. For instance, the forest canopy with its birds; the mid-level of a forest with its bugs; the soil with scurrying life and microscopic life – and all of it is combined with every element – air, water, earth and fire – in a non-wasteful system where every leaf or piece of bark is reused for the benefit of all. The forest is a beautiful system of co-operation with its own communication system, ensuring that it is abundant, giving and non-wasteful.
The more families I observe, the more I realise that we need a philosophy about parenting that upholds the need to synchronise our approach, like an ecosystem. From this ecosophy parents create a foundation within which a technique or a rule can be tried out. This means a boundary is not just imposed on a teen in a top-down way. It means there are networks and relationships that he already trusts, that offer him a safe holding space, before there is disciplining or individual-skill building. If we have a conscious and responsive approach to parenting, boundaries can more easily be negotiated and applied when needed. We can pick them up and let them go again. The teen’s voice or reaction could also form an important part of the feedback loop. If we could trust that there is a deeper wisdom available to guide us, we could be less fearful and allow a more fluid movement, for instance, between the values and ethics of your family and another family – between schools and different communities and between different ethnic groups. It is the fear of the unknown that drives us towards needing control through rigid and strict rules and prejudice. Families can acknowledge that interdependence and interconnectedness are healthy (including teens’ social networks) and open to it more.
New generations have fresh eyes for the world and parents can make room to discover things through teen eyes. Many homes operate according to a submission/dominance pattern. Children must be trained to obey the adults. Yet few relationships in nature are completely hierarchical or competitive, even though we like to believe in the outdated idea of ‘survival of the fittest’. The reward/punishment system or the submission/dominance style could be replaced by a growth mentality and be more relationship-focused, looking for interconnections. In this way disruptions become processes of growth and learning, fostering the most productive or the best bonding times. In this way we develop strength of character. Parents can aim to provide a reservoir of wisdom, where children are given more leeway to experiment within certain ethical and moral boundaries. It’s the classic ‘firm yet fair’ approach – yet it’s not hierarchical in the sense that only parents have all the answers. It is not about letting go of all boundaries but instead inviting a social field of trust and growth as a priority; followed by embracing development and dynamic change as normal; as opposed to everything being top-down, isolated, separate and disconnected.
If you look around you in a forest, for example, you will see plants, algae, animals, fungi, the undergrowth, soil, leaves – all forming different types of relationships with one another. And what we discover in living systems is that the more participants, the more relationships and the more resilient that ecosystem becomes.
Natural systems are resilient. Resilience is the ability to ‘bounce back’, the ability to adapt, the ability to continue to grow and develop even in complex circumstances. Nature uses ‘diversity, redundancy, decentralisation and self-renewal and self-repair to foster resiliency’, according to biomimicry. This resilience of nature depends hugely on diversity in each system, so that, during a disturbance, only some loss occurs but at the same time there is self-repair. In our own families we can welcome the diversities and the numerous relationship types that occur in a school or a community and learn from them, as opposed to shutting them out because they are unfamiliar. The more difference there is, the more growth and vibrancy there is. Life is vibrant, dynamic and full of difference and therefore resilient. Following the lead of nature, we become more open to different events, friends and activities. Adopting the view that ‘this too will pass’ or ‘everything in its own time’ allows our teens to befriend different cultures or religions; we as parents can also be less judgmental and open to exploration. The questions then become: ‘What are we learning from these relationships? What do you enjoy and celebrate here? Do you find this relationship uplifting?’ This is very different to saying: ‘I don’t trust that friend of yours. I don’t want her in our house!’ Asking questions born of curiosity and interest as opposed to shutting down or out does not mean you need to change your own values or boundaries. There is still room for: ‘We have Sunday lunches together, even if your friend doesn’t.’
We are not separate.
We’d do well to remind ourselves of how much we simply receive from being alive. For all the elements of air, water, earth and fire in so many forms, be grateful, soften and let go of holding on out of fear of lack. We often fear that there is only so much energy or achievement to go around and it can be depleted or someone can take it away; yet this is not in line with nature and, therefore, from this viewpoint is not true. It is our belief system that has created this fear of scarcity and we instil this fear in our children. As parents we can teach our teens ways to resource themselves. If they tend to be hyperactive and fixated in one direction and expend all their energy at once, we can teach them about inner resourcing or self-soothing, like spending a little time alone, walking out in nature, lying in the sun for a while just to regenerate the system. We can help teens to understand that their mind, emotions and body all are created as one entity; how we treat the one will affect the other.
Conscious Parenting Indaba 15.07.2025 Difficult Teens? Perfect! Megan de Beyer – 17:00 to 18:00 Book your Ticket
About Megan: Megan de Beyer, MA (Psychology), MSc (Holistic Ecology) is an international Psychologist and group facilitator. She has facilitated many successful and well-subscribed Mothers and Sons courses at most Independent boys’ school in South Africa. She has been invited to run parent courses in California, Australia and UK on numerous occasions; as well as presenting at conferences on parenting. She is the author of “How to Raise a Man – a modern mother’s guide to parenting her teenage son” published by Penguin. An eBook is available.
See her advice on The Village Facebook group where she is the co-founder. She is a mother of 2 young adults, runs wellness & mindfulness retreats in Cape Town, and presently works throughout Africa in mental health for the Singita Safari Company. Overall, Megan’s conscious living philosophy is the foundation of her healing work. She exemplifies three fundamental pillars of healing – radical tenderness, passionate kindness, and extreme peace.
