Standing at the shore.

I realise one of things I do is teach women to re-inhabit themselves after a lifetime of estrangement through other-focussed, people pleasing tendencies.

I do this by supporting them to bring their awareness into their bodies and begin really listen/feel what's moving and present in them.

I often frame this process as - entering the vast ocean of our being and encountering the ancient yet unfamiliar creatures there.

Creatures that are shy, creatures who have lived their whole lives in the darkness, who have developed complex defence strategies, creatures that are wonderous and strange.

The quality of awareness we bring to these parts of ourselves needs to be one of quiet consistency, deep patience, curiosity, wonder and awe.

So often when we turn towards ourselves - we have agendas, a desire to change, control, to own, possess. And yet this rich inner world is vast and untameable, and if we are lucky and approach with reverence - we are allowed a brief glimpse. The opportunity to experience moments of inhabitation through which we are enriched and sustained.

I just watched My Octopus Teacher and found it to be a beautiful metaphor for this inner work. The manner of the divers approach. His gentleness, his commitment, his limerence, his awe. These are the qualities with which we must return to ourselves.

And of course, at first there is trepidation, even fear, just as there would be entering the real ocean - so much unknown. Often, it can feel frightening to begin to sink below the surface and into this mysterious realm. We fear the wildness, the lack of solidity, the great beasts that may roam there. We fear our ocean may be empty - 'what if there's nothing there?' I often hear.

We wade in slowly. It is always teeming with life.

As I've been mulling over my talk for the Embodiment Conference - more and more I realise that one of the things I really wish for the women I work with - is for them to know their own rich inner worlds and to be able to re-inhabit and draw nourishment from them. Not through extraction but through mutual enjoyment and delight.

I'm tired of women standing on the edge of their own shores.

Ah, do watch the film. It is so very lovely in these troubled times.

I wish for you all to swim deep.