I didn’t realize how far I had drifted from myself until the silence of my unwritten stories became louder than the noise of my daily life. After so much reflection, I’ve come to understand something that had eluded me for years: being true to myself means being connected to myself.
Connected to all the parts of me. The messy and scared parts, the angry and hurt selves, the insecure and distrusting voices inside that had been screaming for someone to listen.
And that someone was always supposed to be me.
For the longest time, I didn’t want to hear them. Life kept happening. The way people say it with a shrug, “Life just happens… where did the time go?” But beneath those clichés was a truth I kept avoiding.
It took me years to finally understand what God, the Universe, my divine higher power had been whispering all along. I wasn’t listening. Worse, I refused to listen.
So, God placed me in situations that were uncomfortable, unavoidable, and painfully honest. Moments where the signs became too loud to ignore. Deep down, I knew what the Universe was telling me, but I kept turning away. I avoided the truth until avoiding it became its own kind of self‑abandonment.
My journey didn’t begin with a single moment. It began many years ago, in ways I didn’t recognize at the time. Sometimes it looked like a peaceful walk in the woods. Other times it felt like clawing my way up a mountainside, breathless and aching, just to reach a summit that showed me how far I’d come. There were brisk jogs on trails that made me feel free, and long hikes that left me exhausted in the best way. The kind of exhaustion that tells you the effort was worth it.
Whether I was walking or running, I was always moving toward something. Something I couldn’t see, but somehow sensed. A dreamlike pull toward a destination that wasn’t clear but felt undeniably real.
But then life happened — again — and I veered off course. I chased distractions. I numbed myself with detachment. I used avoidance as a quick fix because the challenge God was giving me hurt too much to face. And in doing so, I found disappointment after disappointment until I was dwelling in despair.
How do you get yourself out of a rut like that? How do you climb out of a life that feels stuck?
I didn’t know.
But God nudged me anyway — gently, persistently — until I could almost see my destination. And when I finally sensed it, I wanted to run toward it.
It’s strange how one simple word can ignite something inside you — a restlessness, an urgency, a spark of determination. For me, it came from a casual conversation. A single question from a friend who may never fully understand the impact it had on me.
“Run.”
At first, I ran away — from my pain, my sadness, my wounds. Life had become such a struggle that I couldn’t show up in a nurturing way, not even for myself. I resisted everything. I resisted life instead of letting life flow through me like water flowing to the place of least resistance. Eventually, life moved on without me.
What followed was a soul‑wrenching journey. One that made me wonder if I would reach the end of it alive.
But I survived. I have bruises and scars to prove it. I’m still alive, though for a long time I was barely living. And I’m still not at the end of my journey.
There are still obstacles to clear, wounds to heal, truths to face. I’m learning how to see myself again. To accept my messiness, to rekindle the fire inside me, to shine. To look in the mirror and say:
“Welcome back. I’m happy you’re here.”
Part 2 Walk with Me
“Lisa, take a walk with me,” God said…
The images woven through My Journey and The Lessons are my own photographs — moments I captured on trails, in forests, beside rivers, and under open sky. They are pieces of my story and are not to be copied or used without permission.
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