When the Wind Remembered My Name

I used to think freedom meant control.

Control over my body.

Control over my emotions.

Control over what could or couldn’t touch me.

In the armed forces, that kind of control was survival.

Discipline was life.

Emotion was danger.

I believed I was free because I was strong.

Untouchable.

Needed.

I was keeping others safe.

But I had disconnected from my own spirit.

From softness.

From feeling.

Constant survival mode turns you into a ghost.

You look alive.

You function.

But inside, there’s only silence.

I wore that silence like armour.

And for a long time, it worked.

At least, it looked like it worked.

Then life changed.

I became a caregiver.

My mother needed me.

And through her, I met healing.

Reiki.

Yoga.

Herbal medicine.

Energy work.

I learned about peace, but not mine.

was still caring for others.

Always others.

Then came the mountain.

Kilimanjaro.

I climbed, oh boy did I climb.

Pole …  Pole.

It was momentous and pivotal.

And then at the summit, I met Spirit.

There was a soft wind that day.

It moved around me gently, almost knowingly.

Like an old friend whispering my name after years of silence.

That was the first time I felt remembered.

But even then, I returned home to care for my children.

I cared for my husband .                                                                    

Still giving, still serving, still forgetting me.

And when they all left… silence again.

But this time, it was deeper.

My body broke down.

My spirit whispered, enough.

Three years of illness.

Three years of unravelling.

Three years of remembering who I was beneath all the doing.

In that stillness, I finally learned to care for me.

To walk slowly.

To breathe deeply.

To sit in the sunlight and let it fill the empty spaces.

To use my own medicine on myself.

Yoga for my body.

Reiki for my soul.

Nature for my mind.

To detox from everything that wasn’t truth.

To let go of rules, expectations, and the noise of the world.

No more scrolling through other people’s lives.

No more comparing my soul to anyone else’s highlight reel.

Now I listen to the wind.

Every day it moves through the trees outside my home.

It sings.

It speaks.

And sometimes, it calls my name again.

A reminder that I am here.

Alive.

Rooted.

Free.

Because freedom isn’t loud.

It doesn’t look like adventure or control.

It looks like peace.

Freedom is breathing without the weight of the world in your lungs.

It’s the quiet mind.

The uncluttered heart.

The gentle knowing that you are enough.

To bloom is to return to your own soil.

To be content with what you are, where you are, and what you have or don’t have.

Blooming isn’t striving.

It’s surrendering.

It’s exhaling.

Now I live slower.

I walk barefoot.

I pray through movement.

I listen more than I speak.

I’m still learning, but I am free.

Truly free.

Because my freedom is no longer built on control.

It’s built on connection.

To the Earth.

To Spirit.

To the lifeline that binds all beings in one pulse of light.

That’s where purpose lives.

Not in the chase.

Not in the noise.

Not in doing more.

But in simply being.

To everyone who feels lost or tired:

Let go of what you think you should be.

You don’t need to chase healing.

Or prove your worth.

You just need to be still long enough

to hear the whisper of your own soul.

And when the wind remembers your name …

You’ll remember too.

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Take a Moment to Reflect

Before you leave this space, take a slow, deep breath.

Let your body settle. Let your mind soften.

Listen quietly… and ask yourself:

• When was the last time you felt truly remembered — by yourself, by life, or by the world around you?

• If you could hear the wind whisper your name right now, what would it remind you of?

• What part of yourself have you been carrying for others, and what part is waiting to be remembered?

• How would your life feel if freedom was found not in doing, but in simply being?

• Where in your daily life can you pause, breathe, and listen to the whispers of your own spirit?

There is no need to answer quickly.

No need to judge your thoughts.

Just sit with the questions, and let them settle like seeds in the soil of your being.

Allow yourself to feel remembered.

Allow yourself to bloom.

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May the whispers of your own spirit guide you home, and may you bloom softly, fully, and freely in every moment.