to the woman who sees me when I can’t see myself

I don’t know what it is between you and I, but I feel like I’ve always known you. For the entire time my energy has existed, maybe.

It was like I was awake in a dream when I saw you for the first time across that huge room bathed in fluorescent lighting. It was like the sea of people surrounding you stood still and I could see you so clearly in vision, towering over everybody, your long curly brown hair and your blue eyes radiating a certain brightness as your shining smile took in everybody dancing around the room.

“Who’s that? Do I know her?” I whispered to a friend there.

“Oh that’s _____. She’s a famous author. She helps with the training sometimes. Everyone here knows her.”

Everyone knows her? I thought to myself. That must be why she’s so bright. Maybe I don’t know her and just think I do.

But it became evident that wasn’t the case, because I kept running into you everywhere without trying. You were at every event that I went to. Then I randomly ended up at a meeting for your nonprofit. And that feeling just kept hitting me each time you’d enter the room. I didn’t ever talk to you, I just watched from afar. You weren’t aware of me for the longest time, but I was always aware of you, wondering about you.

I know you, but not from here. There’s something about you that is so familiar. There is something linking us. You have something important that I do not, and I can’t stop wondering what it is.

Time and fate led me to your retreat 5 years later. I walked up those cabin stairs and sat across from you on the couch, and I was ready to get to work. We stared at each other curiously. You seemed to be in professional business mode, but that is not what matched those first words that came out of your mouth.

“I remember you from another life.” You said to me with a giggle.

“Yeah, I remember too.” I said sweetly. I was shocked that you had known it, too. I mentioned it to my best friend in a voice memo later.

So many times that I have moseyed into places you’ve been, and then moseyed out. Our energy coming together, and apart, over and over. But something always pulls us back together. For some reason. And I let it, because clearly there is something to learn from you. I never forget. You are there in the back of my mind. Someone I always need to check in with.

I’m publishing, then I’m not. I have a business, then I don’t. I want to see you, you can’t. I show up to your public speaking event and listen to your message and leave without letting you know I’m there. Someone else lets you know I was there though, and you’re confused. You’re confused, I’m confused. I’m invisible, you’re the fucking sun. I’m in isolation, you’re connected to everything talking to hundreds of people. You nearly died, and met Jesus, begging to live. I am tired of living after meeting a demon, and beg to die.

You call me, I don’t answer.

I call you, we talk for hours. I don’t wanna talk, you call me anyway. I express my frustrations with you, you’re happy I call you on your shit. You call me out, I sob, grateful that you talk out conflict with me and don’t just throw me out of your life. The darkest part of my mind healed in 20 minutes after engaging with your giggling energy. I send you random things in the mail, you get them at the perfect time. I show up to your fancy retreats, I am so late and randomly sit on the floor with you?

You find a lost dog one of the only times we plan dinner together and I end up getting takeout so we can hang out with the dog at a park. You text me out of the blue right when I pick up a new puppy.

I send voice memos explaining that I can’t say things. You reply in typed word explaining we talk in energy all the time, and in runes and riddles.

Our texts to each other, the deepest of threads. Ones I read over and over.

And there are days when you are heavily on my mind, and your energy is so strong in my awareness, and then days where you’re far away and I have no interest in what you’re doing at all. There is no control of it, no deciding if you’re here to stay, or if one day you’ll go.

I know our energies will continue to drift and come together, forever, whether we’re in the same place or not.

Like the sun, you will stay and shine bright in your truth, and like the moon I will go through my cycles, coming back to meet up with you once a month to express everything I’ve learned.

And I tell you how bright you are, and you tell me that I am too. And I love you for everything you have been through.

Sisters from the same star, maybe. So different, but somehow the same. But your perspective saves me every time. It brings me back to life. I only trust what you say because you see the frequencies as deeply as I do.

Just a Capricorn and a Pisces, reaching for each other. I imagine you in visions as a dance instructor, and I am twirling around crazily, and leaping, and pointing my toes, and you are moving around me, making sure my back is straight, making sure my chin is up, making sure I hit my mark, making sure I relax my arms. You are making sure my dance here is as beautiful and authentic as it can possibly be, and you make sure that I keep dancing.

And yes, sometimes I just want to dance free. But only for a little while.

I will always mosey on back eventually.

“But what if safety is subject to each person?

What if we are the same in different ways?

What if I ask the questions and you answer them and that’s just what we do?

What if it is the stories we tell and solidify in that sometimes bring us out of that trust in who we are? But what if that becomes the process that we find our way back to ourselves too?

I am energetically safe when I am alone, I am often happiest when I’m alone. To someone who finds safety in connection with people that may be confusing. I am not afraid to let something I built crumble to become closer to source and creating who I am. I know, energetically, how to stay safe.

You are physically safe from, you say; the experience of HAVING to create safety. You have sustained and cultivated so many containers and families possibly because of it, or at least that’s what I see. If you got sued tomorrow, you’d know who to call. If something terrible happened to you tomorrow, you’d have multiple networks of people to call out to, and they would all likely respond because of how much energy you have given them. You know, physically, how to stay safe. I do not.

You believe in the power of telling a story, and so do I, but it supports us differently.

I tell the story and I let it go so I can alchemize & become something different.

You tell the story and you stand by the transformation of it and you build onto your identity with what it taught you.

They are beautiful for different reasons. So beautifully us.“