Post-Eclipse Musings: Embracing Authenticity and Connection

As the cosmic ballet of eclipses unfolds, we find ourselves in a space of reflection, introspection, and transformation. Eclipses have long been regarded as potent portals for change, urging us to delve into the depths of our souls and emerge with newfound clarity and purpose. In the wake of these celestial events, we are excited to announce the launch of two remarkable endeavors that epitomize the essence of authenticity and connection: The Humanity Mosaic Podcast and the Authentic Self Journal Club.

I will be hosting The Humanity Mosaic Podcast, taking you on a captivating journey into the heart of what it means to be human. As a Matriarch, Mentor, and Mystic I have had the privilege of learning and working with amazing people who are beacons of wisdom and insight. Together we will guide listeners on a quest for authenticity and connection in a world often fraught with noise and distractions. Through thought-provoking conversations, personal anecdotes, and expert insights, The Humanity Mosaic explores the multifaceted tapestry of human experience, inviting listeners to embrace their true selves and forge genuine connections with others.

In an age dominated by superficiality and pretense, the need for authentic connections has never been more pressing. It is this recognition that inspired the creation of the Authentic Self Journal Club—a sanctuary for those seeking to cultivate a deeper understanding of themselves and their place in the world. This exclusive club offers members access to a treasure trove of resources, including guided journal prompts, mindfulness exercises, and virtual gatherings designed to foster a sense of community and support on the journey toward self-discovery.

At the core of both The Humanity Mosaic Podcast and the Authentic Self Journal Club lies a profound commitment to authenticity—an unwavering dedication to honoring our true selves and embracing the richness of human connection. As we navigate the ever-changing landscape of life, may these endeavors serve as beacons of light, guiding us toward a more authentic, interconnected existence.

Join us on this extraordinary journey of self-exploration and connection. Together, let us weave a tapestry of humanity—one that celebrates our diversity, honors our authenticity, and unites us in a shared quest for meaning and belonging.

Discover more about The Humanity Mosaic Podcast and the Authentic Self Journal Club, and embark on a journey of transformation and connection like no other.

More details about the membership packages and how to join the Authentic Self Journal Club are coming soon. Please visit the Authentic Self Journal Club Page for more info and to get in touch if you have questions.

The Tenderness of Truth Telling written by an Enneagram Four

True: My reality has become deeply distorted. Metaphorically, my distorted reality built a fully furnished 2 story home, surrounded by plush green grass, an array of colorful flowers, and a white picket fence. The illusion appeared so real I grabbed the keys, opened the door, and moved right in. I felt and continue to feel so much at home, stuck in the stale taste of the familiar that at times it’s impossible to leave or even think about moving out. And yet, taking up 47 years of residence in this 2-story detached from reality, disconnected from my body, and trapped by emotions……. truthfully feels like a hollow, lonely, robotic, drab existence as an emotional zombie (harsh not harsh but true).

True: I know, I feel, and I can sense that I have betrayed my own humanity. I have internalized and have continued to invite in the false narratives and tropes projected toward someone like me, me being a racialized black girl from Minnesota. I could not stop believing that I was totally unworthy. To survive, I buried myself in an internal world of melodrama and melancholy. I have resided in a home of inflation and deflation keeping myself at a safe distance from others, hiding to avoid being viewed as ordinary. What I long for the most is a deep meaningful connection. Yet, my patterns of behavior, focusing on what is missing, devaluing the present, and feeling intensely self-critical keep connections far away. I inflate and deflate myself as I compare myself to others. I’d fallen sullenly into the role of an “other” for so long that I recognize the various ways in which I commit acts of active or passive othering toward myself and others, often feeling better or worse than others but never equal. (Often comparing myself and not seeing my own value is getting a bit irritating, – I can admit it).

Also True: I am loveable, kind, deeply feeling, sensitive, intuitive, empathetic, authentic, introspective, and expressive. I am gifted at seeing the uniqueness in things. I have an enormous capacity for human connection and healing. I have a high desire to tell the truth, and have a deep and complete connection to all others and all things. I am connected to the source of life. I have nothing to fear or prove to gain connection, acceptance, or love. (Facts! Straight up no chaser!).

The Request and Genuine Desire: A dear soul named Ellen, shared these words of John Lewis with me and I want to share it here:

“Anchor the eternity of love in your own soul and embed this planet with its goodness.” – John Lewis -

True: I desire to honor humanity in myself and others. I desire to begin to untether from the illusion. I desire to plant an abundance of love and goodness, by honoring the essence and humanity of others including myself. I desire to heal in the community. I need other loving, flawed human beings that have been called to awaken and evolve, to reflect their luminous light, and share their truth and journey of growth. I desire to be an active, evolving human. Will you join me on the journey of deep inner work? As a community, can we support one another on our lifelong journey of healing? (Healing is possible! Presence is necessary! Let’s heal the world!)

Please invite me to a virtual healing Enneagram group or let’s gather some folks and create one together.

Also, stay tuned for the launch of a podcast with Miss Pearl.

I See You - by Kathy Baker

I see your suffering. I hear your cries, I see you stoically smiling to hide your fear, your anguish. I see the resignation that signifies that no hope remains. Earthquakes are heartquakes.

I see your ruined homes, your ruined lives, caused by climate change. You are its human face. All you worked for is being threatened, everything that is your life. I see you.

I see you, sister-woman, shielding your face from his blows. I see your children, who know too much too soon.

I see you, brother, your remorse, your despair, your self-loathing, your frustration at not knowing how to deal with the anger stoked by your own mistreatment as a child.

I see you, my brothers and sisters of every race, every sexual orientation, every human condition, who face discrimination and ignorance at every turn. I see what our world needs: your gifts and your freedom of expression.

I see you, starving, homeless men, women and children of all ages, in all the streets of all the world. So many ways you ended up where you are; so easy for us to look away. I see you.

I see you, proud, brave veterans of countless wars, your health or your lives sacrificed for political or personal gains by power-hungry nations or dictators. I see you, all people of the world, clinging to the notion that war, even if it were waged for a noble cause, can bring peace. Only love can do that.

I see you, brothers and sisters who are plagued by addictions to alcohol, drugs, sex, and gambling. I see you who are hampered by mental illnesses and disorders. I see your agonizing defeats and your hard-won victories. I see your true self underneath.

I see you, man of wealth, jetting from one mansion to another, unable to voice your loneliness. I see that you believe one more home, one more big merger, will fill the restlessness and lack of fulfillment in your soul. You are bankrupt, but sadly you don’t even know it. I see your emptiness.

I see you, woman of vanity. You believe that all is well in the world as long as you are thin, beautiful and gowned in designer clothes, as long as your stock portfolio is healthy, and your children are ensconced in prestigious private schools. I see your hunger, for that which money can’t buy.

I see you, women of all the world, denied a voice or a destiny of your own, living in circumstances not of your choosing, forced to give birth to children or denied the right to make a decent life for your children, denied the right to freedom, to education, to dignity. Your heart sings a song that the world needs to hear. The world is lost without you.

I see you, the elders, our oldest men and women. You may be lucky enough to be secure in your own home, yet perhaps you’re lonely. Or you’ve worked your fingers to the bone all your life, only to struggle for food, prescriptions, housing, and some modicum of comfort in your old age. I see you.

I see you, young people, adrift in a world order you didn’t create or choose, trying to gain a foothold, trying to seek and understand love and economic stability, though you may have experienced little of those things thus far. You can’t be blamed for being cynical at a time in your life that should be idealistic, but isn't. I see you.

I see you, so many of the world’s people, lacking food, clothing, shelter, education, medical care, and any hope that you will ever have any of this. You are an essential part of our human family, though often discounted. I see you.

I see the pain of grief, guilt and fear carried by you, brothers and sisters, who are tortured, murdered, incarcerated–and the hidden costs of this to entire societies and cultures. I also see you who have tortured, murdered or otherwise perpetrated violence. Your ultimate victim is yourself.

I see you, our beloved, innocent children who are victims of terrorism, domestic violence, or who are gunned down in their classrooms as they’re learning their ABCs. All our tomorrows are diminished by the loss of your precious lives. I ache for you.

I see, too, the bubble in which I sometimes live. Forgive me.

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3/6/23 I SEE YOU By Kathy Baker