the courage to let go – and step into my leadership

A personal story about endings, emptiness, and the first whispers of new beginnings

For the first time in a long while, I sat down in front of the microphone. There were words I needed to speak out loud – words about fear, surrender, and the courage it takes to let go of something you love.

What has unfolded in me these past weeks has been raw and deeply personal. And at the same time, I sense it is also universal. A story about endings, the sacred space in-between, and the courage to step into true leadership.

Facing fear and ego death

It is frightening to say goodbye to something you’ve built with love. To a community, to relationships, to a source of income in uncertain times. Fear shows up as a trembling in the body, as thoughts that whisper: Can I really do this? What if I lose everything?

But beneath the fear, there is something deeper: a sense of dissolution. As if an identity I’ve carried no longer fits. It feels like an ego death – letting go of a form that has given me joy and safety, but now feels too small.

It is like peeling away old layers, even when it hurts. Like cutting back a rose while it is still blooming, trusting that this will make space for a stronger flowering later. Fear belongs here – it shows that I am moving beyond the familiar. And the ego death is the movement into something new, not yet visible.

The necessity of the in-between

Perhaps the hardest part is this: I don’t know what will grow next. For the new to have space, the old must die. And between those two movements, the empty space appears.

There is such importance in this space. Even though the instinct to fill it is strong – with answers, new forms, the next step – I am practicing staying here a little longer. In the stillness. In the unknowing.

It is in this space that something can ripen beneath the surface. It is here I can listen more deeply. And I believe that only by daring to remain in the in-between, can we allow what is truly new to unfold.

Courage and surrender

This makes me see fear in a new way. Fear is not always a sign that something is wrong. Sometimes fear is a sign that something important is moving.

And here is where courage comes in. Not as the absence of fear, but as the willingness to stay in the movement, even when the outcome is uncertain.

The Chinese element of metal speaks beautifully to this. Metal belongs to autumn – the season when nature lets go. Leaves fall, and everything that no longer carries life returns to the earth.

In the body, metal relates to the lungs and the large intestine. The lungs take in the world through breath. The large intestine lets go of what is complete. Together they show us the balance between receiving and releasing.

The emotion of metal is grief. Not as an obstacle, but as a movement that shows us what we have loved, and what truly matters. When we allow ourselves to feel grief, we become clearer. Surrender doesn’t take us away from life – it cleanses us, so we can be more fully present within it.

The mirror of the sky

As I look back on these past weeks, it feels as if the sky itself has mirrored my journey.

Two weeks ago, when I made the decision to close my community, we were under a blood moon – a lunar eclipse that, spiritually, invites great endings. It reveals where we have given ourselves away, made ourselves smaller, tied ourselves to old patterns. It calls us to release commitments that no longer nourish us. For me, it was a deep ending. A shift in frequency.

And now, under the new moon and close to the autumn equinox, the energy is different. The new moon is a portal, an invitation to begin again. It asks us to plant seeds in the dark – seeds we cannot yet see – and trust that they will sprout.

For me, these weeks have been a complete restart. The old dissolved in the shadow of the blood moon, and now, in the darkness of the new moon, I sense the sprouting of something new. Not yet clear, but born in stillness.

Stepping into leadership

For me, this is about leadership.

I cannot remain in the old if I want to be an authentic leader for others. True leadership is not about having all the answers – but about daring to step into the unknown. About acting, even when it scares me. About showing myself as human on the journey – vulnerable and alive.

I sense that version 2.0 of Embodied Living is calling me. Not from ambition to do more, but from a longing to go deeper. To create from a place that is more true. To invite others into a journey that is more alive, more present, more transformative.

This story began as a personal decision – to close something I love. Yet I believe the movement is universal.

So I leave you with this question:
Where in your own life do you sense that fear is holding you in the old – even while your heart whispers that it is time to let go?