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Healing is a path walked with bare feet, each step sinking into the heartbeat of the earth, grounding us as we face the raw truth of who we are. It’s not always gentle. It requires us to pause, to breathe deeply into the toroidal field that holds us, and to meet ourselves with open eyes and an open heart.
This journey is one of deep reckoning. We must face not only the ways we have been hurt but also the ways we have caused harm—knowingly or unknowingly. It’s a call to accountability, asking us to look at the moments we abandoned ourselves and the ripple effects of that disconnection. It’s also a call to see those who have hurt us through the lens of compassion, which requires a courage that is nothing short of monumental. For me, this journey has meant peeling back layer after layer of stories and patterns that kept me bound. Gossip, judgment, perfectionism, people-pleasing, victimhood, lying, love bombing, finding strange comfort in chaos—all of it. At times, I felt like I was standing in quicksand, overwhelmed by the weight of what I was carrying. So many of us walk through life carrying stories we never chose but somehow agreed to, as if they were written into our bones before we knew we had a say. Stories like “I am less important,” “I am a liar,” “I am drawn to chaos.” Stories that whisper, “No one wants to see or hear me,” or “I am powerless, less than, unworthy.” These agreements sink deep into our subconscious, shaping how we see ourselves and the world around us. And yet, they are not truths—they are echoes of moments when we felt small, misunderstood, or unsafe. We didn’t know we could question them, rewrite them, or refuse to carry them. But healing invites us to do just that. It asks us to hold these stories in our hands, examine them, and decide which ones we’re ready to set down. It’s in this unbinding that we begin to remember who we truly are—whole, worthy, and infinitely powerful. I’ve had to face the ways I reacted when I felt hurt or angry. Instead of speaking honestly with the person I was upset with, I would drown them in love bombs, asking over and over, “Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?” My anger and resentment stayed locked inside, festering beneath layers of guilt for even feeling those emotions in the first place. I couldn’t face the truth of my feelings, so I buried them, only for them to rise later as resentment. There were times I sought validation from others, recruiting witnesses to my “innocence,” spinning small lies—or bigger ones—to gain their sympathy. The deeper truth beneath it all was this: I hated myself. I hated the ways I wasn’t aligned with my own truth. And everything I refused to face within myself, I projected outward. I’ve had to sit with myself in the rawest, most uncomfortable moments, offering love to the parts of me that were hard to look at. I’ve had to gently unpack why I was judging—why I couldn’t be impeccable with my words—and hold compassion for the lies I’d told, understanding the pain and fear beneath them. I’ve had to love myself through seeing how I gossiped, sharing words that never had a place in someone else’s field, and recognize the harm it caused. Each pattern I unraveled—each thread woven from unresolved emotions—required patience and grace as I began creating new pathways, ones rooted in clarity and integrity. This work wasn’t done in isolation; I needed guidance and support to navigate the terrain. But through it all, I’ve learned that loving myself in these spaces isn’t just possible—it’s transformative. It’s the foundation for the person I've become and the person I am becoming. Healing isn’t linear. It’s cyclical, a spiral that takes us deeper each time. It’s the practice of witnessing ourselves honestly, forgiving what we find, and choosing differently over and over again. It’s the unlearning of stories that no longer serve us and the reclamation of the wholeness that was always ours. This journey has taught me that true courage isn’t about being fearless. It’s about feeling every ounce of fear, shame, or discomfort and choosing to show up anyway. It’s about holding space for our shadows and standing steady as they integrate into the light. And it’s about recognizing that our healing ripples outward, like the toroidal field of the earth herself, touching everything and everyone around us. This work—this path—is sacred. It’s messy and beautiful and raw. And it’s worth every step. Roomy, spacious, expansive and freeing. May all beings have the courage to heal.
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It wasn’t until adulthood that I truly grasped the depth of compassion and the significance of that true energy. As a child, I was filled with a heaviness, rage, and a sense of injustice. Sadness clouded my understanding, and my empathy was distorted, more of an environmental response than truth. But through my own healing, I began to recognize what compassion really means, and how energy must be honored and protected. My mother, like so many women before her, carried the weight of generational trauma on her shoulders. I watched as she struggled through her own pain, working to break cycles that had been passed down, not by choice but by circumstance. In many ways, she fought battles that I will never have to face because of her sacrifices. For that, I hold an immense amount of love and gratitude in my heart.
There’s something truly profound in witnessing a parent’s pain—especially when you recognize that their struggles were part of the reason you were able to live a different life. My mother’s journey wasn’t easy, and the choices she made often reflected the limitations imposed on her by her own trauma. But even as I honor her journey and the courage it took to break some of those cycles, I also have to acknowledge that not all of the trauma was healed. And that’s where the complexity of our relationship deepens. Healing, as I’ve learned in my own life, is a choice. And while my mother made some brave choices to create a better life for me, there are aspects of her healing that she has not chosen to pursue. I respect her decision, because it is hers to make. We each have our own timeline, our own path, and our own lessons to learn. But the reality is that her lack of accountability for some of the pain she’s caused, and the choice to not fully engage in her own healing, requires that I set boundaries for my own well-being. These boundaries aren’t about punishment or rejection. They’re about honoring both of our journeys. I can have deep compassion for my mother, recognizing the hardships she endured, and still create space between us to protect and preserve my energy. I can love her from a distance, while also recognizing that proximity to her doesn’t serve my highest good right now. For many of us, it can be difficult to reconcile the love we feel for our parents with the boundaries we need to set. It feels counterintuitive to say, “I love you, but you don’t have access to my energy.” Yet, that’s where I’ve landed. Compassion doesn’t mean allowing myself to be drained or re-traumatized. Compassion, in its truest form, means acknowledging the pain, honoring the choices, and still choosing to prioritize my own healing and growth. The liberation of suffering starts within, because we cannot give what we don't have. This has been one of the most difficult lessons in my journey—learning that I can honor my mother’s life and love her deeply, while also understanding that she may never be ready to heal in the ways allow access to me. And that’s okay. I can carry love, gratitude, and compassion for her, and also keep my boundaries intact. Because my healing is my choice, and that’s what I need to focus on to continue breaking the cycles she fought so hard to loosen. In setting these boundaries, I am not rejecting my mother. I am choosing to honor both of our paths, while also recognizing that my energy is sacred. Compassion can coexist with boundaries, and in fact, true compassion often requires them. I can acknowledge my mother’s pain, hold space for her struggles, and still recognize that her healing journey is her own, just as mine is my own. For anyone navigating the balance of compassion and boundaries, know that it’s okay to protect your energy. It doesn’t make you less loving or less compassionate. In fact, it’s an act of profound self-love, and it’s essential for breaking the cycles of trauma and pain for future generations.
Last night I was in a writers' think tank with the publishing company I have been working with. JB always leads this discussion with so much wisdom and curiosity, it has become one of my favorite spaces on Monday night. Community is one of the things I love so much about the work that I do. Whether I am working in my energy healing community, or working in a think tank with authors, the beings that are there to teach you are one of the best parts. Being a part of one allows for so much to be illuminated, so many ripples of wisdom ignited. So many beings to hold the mirror of our miracles and space when we need it the most.
Amongst the incredible humans that joined us last night was an 82-year-old women, who brought so much to the table. She had so much wisdom to share, so much joy to bask in, so many waves rippled as she spoke about pieces of her journey and experiences she has had, and how that has shaped how she shows up in the world, how she views her work and the impact on humanity. I feel so thankful that I was in this space, learning from and growing with people like her. With all that she has given to the world, and the communities she has been a part of and grown, I feel safe with the knowing that this journey is shared by so many. It is direct evidence for me, that all of the truth that I hold- is held in others. We are all working from that same wave of oneness. On a quantum level. The beautiful sensation of connectedness. That wave of peace just feels like one I could ride on forever. One of the exercises we do in this think tank to share pieces of writing, last night we were asked to share 3-5 sentences on how this conversation made our heart feel. I wanted to share what I wrote with you all: After this incredible conversation my heart feels expansive and goosebumps wave across my body as an energetic expression of what I know to be true. The collective power in the waves created by each ripple of awareness we each share feel like fireworks exploding in my cells. I feel grateful.  When I think about creating a tool belt, aligned with my highest state of being. It is designed for balance and growth. It is intended to help me move through the waves of life supported. When I use it wisely, I find those moment of unease, those moments of challenge as an opportunity to fine tune my practices, finding the cracks that light has not reached yet and climbing down into that space and blasting it wide open. My tool belt, and yours, won't look the same. It might be the same formula- but what feels resonate to me won't necessarily be what resonates with you.
How to build your tool belt: 1. Setting an intention, allowing your words, deeds and actions to follow. This intention to shift, to grow, to come into flow, whatever the intention you have set for yourself- set it every day. 2. Getting in touch with yourself, your wants, your needs, and the limiting beliefs that you hold. Sifting through what is something you were programmed to want, VS what actually calls your soul. Getting to the root of those limitations and beginning the work to be free of them. 3. Start with one practice, I usually direct people to 60 seconds of gratitude daily. Starting to shift their focus. With this one small practice you are beginning to change your vibration. 4. Celebrate every small and big shift in behavior, every pattern interrupt. 5. Weaving in rhythmic movement, whatever feels best for your body. Sprinkling rhythm into this movement. Whether you are listening to flow music while you move, using sound while you move, singing while you move. Add harmony. 6. Repeat. Practices I use almost daily: Intention setting, gratitude, meditation, reading, rhythmic movement (walking or dancing), mantra, affirmations, breathwork, listening to flow music, singing, intentional learning, healthy eating, connections prayer. Practices I do weekly: Writing, playing my healing instruments. These practices are the ones that connect with me- but for you it may be yoga, it may be journaling, it may be going to church, it may be swimming, it may be hiking in the forest. Start with one practice until you can build on that one thing- eventually it will feel less like a practice and more like freedom- more like the way you live your life. With great gratitude, thank you for reading. I hope this find all who need to read it. Here are some resources to help you get started: Bahusādhana: Possessing Many Resources For a long while on my journey, I used to get hurt physically, a lot. From the age of 11 till 26 I hurt the same ankle/foot at least once a year, sometimes more. That is more than a dozen times over the course of that 15 years. When we're looking at energy that usually signifies an imbalance in our root. Our root is our place of safety, security and balance. It can sometimes translate into this physical manifestation of the imbalance. Also, when looking at energy when we agree with something, for me it was a few things, but for this post I'll use the belief that I was just clumsy. We attract the experiences that match our beliefs. Even if those beliefs are limiting. These experiences further continue our loops, until we become aware that we agreed to something, and have the intention to release those beliefs and shift our operations in conjunction. With the belief I was 'just clumsy' it put me in a place of having no control to not get hurt, and furthered not being able to change that I was getting injured all the time. I didn't know where the imbalance was, or how I could take my power back. I didn't even know there was power lost.
I am thankful to have the awareness of some operating patterns that are still transforming and limiting beliefs that are still in the alchemizing process. Last week I had a series of things pop up, where I know I uprooted (ones that I look forward to working through with one my mentors/healing allies soon). In the midst of that all, I got hurt. I tripped and sprained that very same ankle, again. It's been 6 years. Time to do some more root work, time for me to get deeper and gain more wisdom around those things I am on a journey with, myself. Working in this place of compassion, I'm so glad to have the awareness that I do. Free of the judgment. Now moving with the curiosity to go deeper and take the lessons I need to gain from these experiences. I could have gone a different way, I could have bumped into the awareness of how I was operating and stayed in fear and judgement of being there, but in truth the awareness adorned in compassion felt liberating. In figuring out where I was caught, it allowed me to love and honor the part of me that needed some attention. I could have beat myself up, talked it to death, operated in the old paradigms. I chose not to. I am so proud of that. Taking accountability allows us to have the power in how we show up. Sometimes that growth feels uncomfortable, but truly on the other side of the discomfort is so much freedom. If you're struggling with staying grounded and feeling a sense of internal balance here is an excellent root chakra sound and visual meditation: https://youtu.be/OTwr69dTrQo?si=7hvdGnbddDRa2m7L |
Margie BreaultMargie has dedicated herself to lifelong learning and bringing everyone she meets into an empowered state of awareness. Tune into her blog to get to the nitty gritty on how you can transform your life. Archives
November 2024
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