Everything I Could Have Wished For
It's my birthday, and this is all I could have wished for
Forty-four years in, and I have never felt more like me.
No, life is not perfect. I am grieving. Lucy, old friendships, relationships, and most of all, a version of me that feels so far away now.
You can't unsee things. Not once you've done this kind of work. Not once you've spent nine chapters coming home to yourself.
I can connect the dots looking backward now. Every version of me that felt like a detour was actually the path. My purpose keeps evolving, and these days I trust that even the redirections, even the rejections, are moving me exactly where I'm supposed to go.
I often joke that I hope this is my last round incarnated. But underneath the joke is something true: I am deeply grateful for this earth school. For every lesson that broke me open and every one that put me back together differently than before.
We can only feel love to the depths of which we can feel our grief. Happiness, to the degree we can feel our sadness. This year taught me that more than any other. And still, somehow, birthday after birthday, this is the one where I feel the most like myself I have ever been.
Years ago, a fortune teller told me I would have a place by the ocean, one where people would come to reconnect, to heal, to remember themselves and their purpose. That's the story I opened this whole series with, back in June. I always took it as a one day dream, a would be nice. I had no idea it would happen this quickly.
And now, without forcing it, without chasing it, I am here. Nine chapters later, so am I: not someone new, but someone who finally remembers who she is. Not still searching out there, but returning, again and again, to what is already within me.
Mark Your Calendar
The best thing you could give me for my birthday isn't a gift. It's this: mark your calendar for the 18th.
You'll get only one more email from me before then, Monday at midnight, when it's finally out in the world, ready for you to grab a copy and share.
However you found your way here, here's what I'm asking: get a copy of the book on the 18th, and let me know you did. Tag me, message me, whatever feels natural to you, and you'll be entered to win a spot at one of two retreats I'm hosting once ORA opens its doors this November: one at the beginning of December, one at the beginning of February.
More details on how to enter are coming in Monday's email, alongside everywhere you can get your copy.
My goal isn't a bestseller list, though I won't pretend that wouldn't feel incredible. My goal is a tidal wave of connection, all of us sharing and witnessing the authentic experience of being human, together, on the same day.
What self-realization actually means
Self-awareness shifted my perspective. Self-trust helped me follow intuition over logic. Self-discipline reminded me that everything begins with me and my habits. Self-ishness taught me how to become self-full. Self-compassion softened my edges and dissolved shame through forgiveness. Self-expression revealed vulnerability and desire as power. Self-love tuned all eighty-eight keys of my piano into parts of me I am honored to play. Self-confidence anchored the knowing that I am worthy, lovable, and enough because I AM.
And through it, my deepest purpose was realized.
Self-realization is not something we arrive at. It is something we live. The ongoing practice of aligning our actions with what we know to be true, then reinforcing that alignment until it becomes who we are. Not perfection. Integration. The quiet, consistent return to who we are, until there is no distance left between our life and our truth.
Self-realization is not about becoming extraordinary. It is remembering what has always been intact. It is not another mountain to climb, but a remembering to return. Return to connection. Return to truth. Return to alignment. Return to love.
THIS WEEK'S PRACTICE
The Self-Realization Practice
Notice. Throughout your week, begin to notice how you are living. Where are you in alignment with yourself? Where are you overriding what you know is true? Where are you choosing growth over comfort, or comfort over growth? Where are you acting from your highest self? You don't need to correct it in the moment. Just notice. Awareness is what allows the shift.
Integrate. Each night, before bed, slow your system down. Dim the lights. Step away from stimulation. Then reflect: three of the best parts of your day, one boundary you honored, one moment you acted courageously, one moment you expressed a desire, one thing you forgive yourself for, one thing you're grateful for. Let yourself feel each one, not just think it.
Reconnect. Ask yourself: if I could do anything, what would I do, and how would I feel? You don't need the how. You only need to stay connected to the feeling.
Anchor. Before you fall asleep, let this be your final imprint: I am safe. I am supported. I am enough. I am worthy. I am loved.
Missed any of the last eight? Catch up at danashalit.com/ptsblog.
I'll see you Monday night (August 18!) for the official LAUNCH of Pathways to Self and more details on how to win a spot and join me on retreat in Costa Rica!
xoxo,
D.