There was a time in my life when I would take any excuse to be unhappy, fearful, angry, or anxious.

It wasn’t that I wanted to feel this discomfort. I simply wanted to find safety. And in order to do that, I trained myself to “fix” everything that did not make me feel happy, hopeful, compassionate, or peaceful.

Working myself into a lather became mandatory. If I did not worry over every waking moment of my life, who would? And if no one was worried, how would anything be accomplished? How would I ever reach the state of perfection wherein I would finally discover my own divinity?

Trivial matters would cease to bother me if I could only locate that courage. But to make it that far, I had to survive, and survival required more fear.

Ballerina Girl, Where Are You

I had forgotten how deeply this cycle once affected me until I went through my memory boxes this month. Boxes, plural, because I have separate storage bins for childhood memories, letters, and dance memories.

As I was going through the dance box, cleaning and letting go, I found a letter I wrote to myself in class. I think it’s from my senior year of high school, but I forgot to date it. In the letter, I had written, “You have nothing to be afraid of. God is eternal. He has made you eternal.”

My heart squeezed when I read that—for so many reasons. I would not change a moment of the spiritual journey I have taken since graduation, but if I could, I would warn my younger self of a few things. Like how God is so much bigger and weirder than a mystery man in the sky. How the divine feminine has been with us all this time. How everything I need is already within me.

But 17-year-old Aquinnah’s concept of God wasn’t really concerning to her, was it? All she wanted to know was that she was safe in this world. So, I would tell her what I learned from Elizabeth Gilbert a couple of years later.

“You are safe, you are safe, you are safe. This is the sound of the Universe breathing. Get quiet enough and you will hear it, too. It’s the only thing we are ever being told.”

A Different Kind of Faith

I’m not quite sure when that fear left me. All I know is that one day, I woke up, and I wanted more. More happiness and more peace and more love. More divinity. There had to be a way to find those things without remaining a slave to my anxious thoughts.

Since much of my worry revolved around my health, I decided to pick up a book by Dr. Joe Dispenza. I could have picked any one of them and been equally as impressed, but I chose to start with You Are the Placebo. Heal my body with my thoughts? Fine. Understand the scientific jargon? Eh.

The next book on my list had to be less technical. I went for an older one: The Power of Your Subconscious Mind by Joseph Murphy. It’s a favorite amongst those in my professional network and completely transformed the way I think about prayer. For the first time in my life, I truly understood that the answers I was seeking were (and always had been) within me—the essence of divinity.

From that point on, books flowed to me as if from the heart of the Universe. I learned about my empathetic nature from Matt Kahn, self-love from Louise Hay and Florence Scovel Shinn, and the divine feminine from Meggan Watterson. One layer on top of another until, finally, the picture was clear.

Divine Well-Being

For a long time, I stuffed myself full of books and affirmations and exercises and figured that if I could just do enough, the Universe would take pity on me and hand over my deepest desires. I was bending over backward, trying to do the right thing, at the right time, in the right way.

(This was two weeks ago.)

I have been iterating this pattern for years, and I won’t tell you that it doesn’t work. It does. You can usually force your way inside a door that isn’t locked, and the entire cosmos is open to us. So, if it appeals to you, brute strength is always an option.

But I want it to be easy. I want to wake up in the morning with the knowledge that the entire Universe is conspiring on my behalf, and I want to believe it. I want to be well in every. single. moment.

Sound toxic? I thought so, too. For years, I thought being happy all the time was a sign of naivete and emotional suppression. No matter how many times I heard that your feelings dictate your reality, I could not imagine feeling good every day. Then, two weeks ago, I saw this quote from Abraham Hicks:

“There is only a source of well-being, which you are allowing, or you are not.”

And I realized—I was still doing it. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Fearing an uncertain future because if not me, then who?

But, unlike when I was 17, today, I know exactly where to turn.

To go inward is to find the safety I craved throughout my teenage years. There, I can meet with my soul, who is always, always joyful. Words fail to express the power of this simple action, and it is different for everyone. But I can tell you this.

If you feel good, you have arrived. Full stop. This is the promise, the mission, the main event. Everything else is extra. Again, from Abraham, “You are not manifesting. You are creating the environment that allows the manifestation.”

The journey continues.

Reading List

• Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert
• The Magic Path of Intuition by Florence Scovel Shinn
• Mary Magdalene Revealed by Meggan Watterson
• The Power of Your Subconscious Mind by Joseph Murphy
• The Sutras of Unspeakable Joy by Meggan Watterson
• Whatever Arises, Love That by Matt Kahn
• You Are the Placebo by Dr. Joe Dispenza
• You Can Heal Your Life by Louise Hay