What it means to Be Here
I recently finished Cynthia Erivo’s memoir, Simply More: A Book for Anyone Who Has Been Told They’re Too Much. While the book itself didn’t reach the depth I was hoping for, it served as a catalyst for reflection—and for the beginning of this journal.
Years ago, when I first heard Cynthia sing, “I believe I have inside of me / Everything that I need to live a bountiful life,” something in me recognized the truth of it before I could explain why. Music has a way of doing that—cutting through analysis and landing directly in the body.
That lyric has followed me through different seasons of my life, returning most often during moments of uncertainty. Lately, it has brought me back to a deceptively simple question:
What does it mean to be here?
Not in an abstract or philosophical sense—but today. In this body. In this chapter of your life. With the history you carry and the future you’re still shaping.
For many people—especially those who’ve been told they are “too much,” too sensitive, too intense—being here has often meant learning to edit themselves. To earn belonging. To stay safe by staying small. Presence becomes conditional, tied to performance, productivity, or perceived worth.
But being here does not require proof.
Remembering your power isn’t about forcing confidence or bypassing difficulty. It’s about recognizing that even in seasons of grief, transition, or uncertainty, you still have access to discernment, resilience, and choice. Strength does not always look loud. Often, it looks like staying connected to yourself when it would be easier to disconnect.
So I’ll leave you with this:
What does it mean for you to be here today?
What would it feel like to move through this day—whether it’s soft or demanding—rooted in the knowledge that your worth is inherent, and your capacity has not disappeared?
These questions sit at the heart of what it means to live an integrated life. They are also central to the work of rewoven self-trust—learning to relate to yourself with honesty, compassion, and steadiness.
I’m glad you’re here. And I look forward to walking alongside you as we explore what wholeness can look like, one honest moment at a time.