Holding More Than Space 8/28/25

Holding More Than Space: the Journey Through Fear, Awareness, Acceptance, and Higher Consciousness

I woke this morning feeling a weight from the world that I can’t quite name pressing down on me. This happens sometimes to all of us: the body tightens, thoughts spiral, and we crave sweetness, something to smooth out the hard edges. Even after meditating and doing yoga this morning, I had to sit quietly with my feelings. I noticed myself slipping into old patterns as if a version of me from another time quietly entered the room, whispering its anxieties and needs.

So what is it? To sit with it without judgment and let it simply be. Not fix, not distract, not escape… but rather witness and breathe (not easy work). It takes tenderness, patience, and courage, but the more I practice it, the more I see that holding space for myself is the same skill I carry into the world as a gift to others. It’s this energy I bring into relationships, and the presence I offer others when they struggle; the calm I give myself is the same that can ripple outward when life feels chaotic to those around me.

Anxiety, fear, grief, and the shadow parts of ourselves are not enemies. They are the messengers of our destiny, telling us to pay attention, listen & awaken. Observing and acknowledging my own reactions and fear, and learning to self-soothe, can be keys to personal growth. The more we do this, the more we create spaces for calm and safety when challenges arise.

Sometimes it’s our intimate relationships that reveal how deeply this inner work matters. Miscommunication, unconscious habits, and differing ways of giving and receiving care can stir up old wounds. But it can also be beautiful to anchor in my own awareness, hold my energy steady, and in difficult interactions shift my consciousness to remembering it’s not about changing others. If I learn to adjust how I meet them and remain in my own energetic field, I remain present and can foster an environment of love.

Coping mechanisms are a whole other piece of the puzzle. Many of us stopped evolving emotionally when life became overwhelming, turning to substances, destructive habits, or distractions as a shield. I’ve seen this in myself. I still find comfort in food when I get stressed, seeking dopamine, I suppose, or a distraction. I know my self-awareness is the first step to changing this: noticing, naming, and realizing this pattern is mine to understand and transform. What if these challenges are actually gentle nudges from a higher self asking us into a deeper relationship with our truth and inner knowing?

After my mother died, I began noticing strange sensations that felt alive with her presence. There were nights when I would feel a small, subtle “air” leave my right ear, almost like a bird escaping into the world. I believe it was a delicate signal that she was near. My body rested in sleep, but my consciousness felt awake, suspended in the veil. And the veil felt porous, delicate, and alive with possibility. In those hours, I could feel energies moving, whispering, and teaching me things I couldn’t have explored in waking life. I was both entranced and fearful, and wanted to walk that line of surrender that could open doors to clarity and connection I had never known. Ultimately, those dreamlike meditations became more and more scarce, but a curiosity was lit within me, and it led me to explore more research on human consciousness.

I began studying work from the Monroe Institute. Robert Monroe’s meticulous work documented out-of-body experiences and altered states. He experimented with consciousness very scientifically, tracking, recording, and teaching methods for others to explore the same realms. The CIA even took notice during the Cold War, looking into Monroe’s “Gateway Process” to understand if consciousness could be a tool or a threat. The truth is, how we use it shapes our experience of reality in ways we are only beginning to grasp. While official reports frame it skeptically, I learned the deeper truth: our awareness is a healing frontier, and some believe this higher consciousness in humans could actually end all wars.

One of the most vivid lessons in energy and awareness came through a story I heard about a woman traveling alone in New York late at night. She got on the wrong subway and was the only woman there with several menacing-looking older teenage boys. She became anxious, but instead of succumbing to the fear, she let herself feel it fully and then asked herself: What if the story in my mind isn’t the only outcome? Because of this, she settled her nerves a bit and responded from a place of grounded awareness. Calm and confidence guided her, and by the end of the ride, the boys’ energy had shifted entirely. They shared stories with her, protected her, and even helped her navigate back to a safer neighborhood. Our energy is tangible, and how we inhabit our bodies and work with our emotions can actually transform our experiences and possibly the world around us.

Animals, too, are profound teachers. My friend Kim told me about her three sweet cats who always welcome the other kitties she fosters. They had never shown aggression, that is, until a terrified rescue cat arrived, shrieking and trembling, radiating pure fear. These normally gentle and community-minded cats immediately reacted because they were reading and responding to the cat’s energy. The lesson was clear: fear has a field. It’s even proven to be visible, palpable, and contagious. However, our awareness can interrupt, shift, and transform it.

The thread that weaves through all of this: grief, fear, coping, spiritual visions, consciousness exploration, and relational challenges, is the realization that our fears and habits, the energies we encounter, and even our own inner turbulence are teachers, inviting us to awaken. By holding space for ourselves, cultivating awareness, and choosing presence over reaction, we step into a current of clarity, love, and communion. We then embrace the truth that we are co-creators in a world that is always in motion, always testing, always offering the opportunity to center, hold space, and then radiate a higher frequency.