I was in Lahore last week, conducting some workshops. As always, during the research and writing period I have a general idea of what the workshop will look like but it’s difficult to imagine what it will feel like and how it will evolve. This is largely because in essence it’s a dialogue. As soon as the people walk in, the transformation begins. As if sensing the sacred space that I’ve created, their personal energy begins to change. At this point I’m brimming with tremendous gratitude. My childhood was filled with this activity and as I set up innumerable sacred spaces, I would always wonder who I was doing this for. What comes to fill a place that love creates?
This is a question that those who attended can answer rather simply because they were the true embodiment of it. Someone had asked me a while back what it is about running these types of workshops that I find interesting. I love seeing the divine face of our mortal self. I get to witness the meeting between the aspect of ourself which is vulnerable, confused and overwhelmed with the part of our being that is eternal, compassionate, and wise. The women I met were all this and more, their stories inspirational.
The calling is not always an easy one, most of the time the calling takes from us that which we hold most dear, that which exposes us the deepest, that which reduces us to our mortal core. But as Rumi said, “The wound is where the light enters you.”
There is a term that I heard earlier this year from a friend and fellow coach and we both discussed at length how exciting it sounded. The term is Soul Alchemy and this a process where we transform ourselves by bringing light and love to those parts of ourself that feel dark and fearful. Here’s to all those beautiful ladies in Lahore who are shining bright as beacons of hope for others.
Love this Afshan. We are all fractured somewhere, somehow. I like the thought that it’s the fractures that let the light in.