"I call all my power back to me now."
I stood in the stall and whispered this like an incantation. My hands pressed up against each other as if I were praying. I was. But I was also trying to stop shaking. I had approximately three minutes until I needed to be somewhere, and I needed to not be shaking. Preferably.
About fifteen minutes later, I stood in the room and spoke with someone who was charged with the role of moderator. His sentences were crisp and focused, determined to stay on the point and within schedule.
"Do you understand?"
"Do you have any questions?"
I shook my head.
He clapped his hands and took a step toward the door before turning his head back to me, "oh and Elora?"
We looked at each other.
"This is your room now."
I've been thinking about this exchange for weeks.
Me, calling back my power. Him, passing me ownership.
What would it look like for us to buy into the Truth — yes, Truth — that we are capable of choosing when and where we reveal our Power? And not only are we capable, but this is necessary in living out our purpose.
I know. It's a big word.
Think about it. In order to really understand what we're meant to do, we have to be willing to own it. We have to be willing to step into the Power required for it.
I've been doing some soul-work this year. Three weeks in and I am consistently asked to show up and show out — to reclaim my power. My time. My purpose. What keeps surfacing, again and again, is the necessary work of owning up to my own magic and potential.
And here is where I've landed: I refuse to work and love and create and relate from a place of inferiority. I am moon dust and starlight. I am poet. I am rio abajo rio. I am lion and la loba. I feel this awakening and I will not stop it. I will not tamper my light so you can stay comfortable with who I've been.
I will not silence my ascent.
I call all my power back to me now. Especially the piece you took when I looked the other way.