The Art of Remembering: A Reflection on Healing and Holding Space
Dear Beloved One,
“Every person carries two birds — one above, and one below.
The bird below is busy — building the nest, collecting twigs, doing.
The bird above simply watches, still and aware.
One is the ego. The other is the spirit.”
I first heard this image from a teacher years ago, and it has stayed with me ever since. It reminds us of something essential — that we are not simply human doings, here to produce and perform. We are human beings, here to remember, to feel, to live fully in the present moment.
The ego is always eager — it thrives on productivity and accomplishment. But the heart knows that the true meaning of life is not found in how much we do, but in how fully we are present. When we slow down and allow ourselves to simply be, we return to our natural rhythm, to our wholeness.
And perhaps that is why, once we’ve experienced healing in our own lives — even if only in part — we feel called to walk alongside others on their journey. Not out of obligation, but from a quiet sense of purpose. A knowing that says, “I’ve been there too. Let’s walk this together.”
This is the heart of what it means to serve as a coach or practitioner: a calling rooted in presence, not performance.
Our wounds are not just places of pain — they’re also doorways to wisdom. When we’re willing to sit with the discomfort, to explore the patterns that challenge us, and to reflect deeply, we begin the process of liberation. We loosen the grip of who we once believed we were, and step into a more expansive sense of self.
This is the journey of dissolving maya — the illusion of separation. In moving through our own layers of conditioning, we begin to see more clearly. We begin to meet ourselves — and others — with deeper compassion and understanding.
The personal path is not a step away from our purpose. It is the foundation. Before we can hold space for others, we must learn to hold space for ourselves. We create practices not out of routine, but from devotion — steady, intentional, alive.
Ayurveda teaches us to live in rhythm with nature, and yoga therapy reminds us to return to the wisdom of the body. As we align with our unique constitution, and move with the seasons of life, we start to release the pressure of becoming — and remember the grace of simply being.
These practices are not formulas. They are invitations.
They may look like nourishing food, aligned with your dosha.
Movement through yoga, dance, or walks under the sky.
Breathwork to calm the nervous system.
Conversations with wise friends or mentors.
Sound, mantra, music.
And stillness — silence — time with yourself.
In that stillness, something shifts. We begin to hear our intuition more clearly. We move from reaction to response. From fear to trust. And from there — from an embodied place — we can truly support others.
When we sit with someone in their healing, we don’t arrive with answers. We arrive with presence. With patience. With the willingness to simply be with them, as they are.
Each person’s journey is unique. Our job is not to fix or direct — it’s to honor. To hold a safe and sacred space where their truth can rise. Healing happens in that space — slowly, gently, in its own timing.
To hold space is to be fully there. Without urgency, without pressure. Just presence. The space itself becomes the medicine.
And this is why our personal work matters. Without it, we may unconsciously carry our own stories into the space. But when we’ve moved through our own healing with honesty and compassion, we offer something much deeper. A grounded presence that sees beyond surface patterns into the soul’s quiet longing.
We listen. We witness. We trust.
We offer tools — Ayurveda, yoga therapy, breathwork, energy medicine — not as fixes, but as pathways back to the client’s own inner knowing.
Because healing does not happen to someone. It happens within them.
When one heals, we all heal
All of my love,
Mystic