The calling I couldn’t name and the evolution of this work
For months, I felt a calling to let go of something but didn't know what. I couldn't explain it. I just trusted it. And then, through a documentary that appeared on my screen, a decision with my fiancé, a book falling open to the exact passage I needed, and a release in shavasana—it revealed itself.
This is what it looks like to let the body lead. To trust the calling before you understand it. To live in flow.
In January 2026, I started my business full-time. In The Search Bar® became official.
A couple months in, I felt something brewing underneath. A sense that I needed to release something, but I didn't know what. I just knew it was holding me back from fully claiming my business.
By mid-March, it became clearer. I noticed I was struggling to claim the terminology "self-loyalty" which I was building all of my work around. I felt a shyness or almost a lack of worthiness to claim that term and make it my own. I had this outer desire to own this word that didn't appear to have ownership, and for it to be a thing people recognize and associate with my brand. Like how Brené Brown claimed vulnerability and made it hers. But deep down, I was thinking, "Who am I to own this word?"
That's when Release & Claim was born. It's a somatic experience I was drawn to create to release what I was holding and claim who I was becoming. I built it because I needed it. I was stuck in the gap between knowing what I was being called toward and actually stepping into it.
It had a deep impact on releasing and claiming. That impact lasted about a week. After that, something still felt unresolved. There was a layer I couldn't see yet.
I understand now that Release & Claim must be done regularly to maintain its effects. Once you learn the process, you can use it on your own whenever you need to release and reclaim.
But what was that deeper layer?
Living the question
I sat with that unresolved feeling. Not forcing. Not trying to figure it out. Just trusting that if I needed to know, life would show me.
That's new for me. The old way would have been to analyze it. To journal about it. To process it in therapy until I understood exactly what was happening and why.
But I'm learning a different way. A way where the body leads and the mind follows. Where I trust the calling before I understand it. Where I let life unfold instead of forcing clarity.
I didn't know I was being taught how to live in flow. But I was.
What showed up
In May, life started delivering.
First, a documentary appeared on Amazon Prime. I wasn't looking for it. It just showed up in my recommended feed. Kalachakra: The Enlightenment. A film about Tibetan Buddhism and the power of compassion.
The teaching that landed: infinite compassion is a great treasure. Those who wish to be initiated into the Kalachakra practice take a vow to have compassion toward all living things, to work for the benefit of others.
Something about it felt important, but I didn't know why yet.
Then came a decision with my fiancé.
Our lease was ending. The new place we wanted to move into wasn't ready for another two months. I had two options: stay in the house with a roommate I never wanted to live with in the first place, or move back to my parents' house temporarily and save money but be away from my fiancé and our dog.
Normally, I would have chosen what was best for me. That's what self-loyalty taught me. Choose myself. Honor my truth. Do what serves me.
But this time, I sat in the middle of the decision and I didn't feel clear.
What's best for me? Moving to my parents' house. Saving money. Getting out of a living situation I never wanted.
What's best for us? Staying. Being together. Waiting it out for two more months.
I sat with both options. When I gave it some time, it became clear: I wanted what was best for us.
That was new for me, and I loved it.
A few days later, I picked up my Gene Keys book. I've been working with it for years, but I hadn't looked at my Life's Work (Key 22) in a while.
I opened it. And there it was.
"The 22nd Gift is the gift of Graciousness. It is a rare and beautiful quality that has a profound effect on everyone it touches. Graciousness means that whatever you do in life, you always consider the feelings of others. Your whole life is geared towards impacting people's emotions in a positive way."
I read it three times.
At first, it felt like a contradiction. Like I was being asked to go back to people-pleasing. To abandon myself again in favor of making others comfortable.
But that's not what it was saying.
It wasn't asking me to override myself. It was asking me to expand myself—to hold space for myself AND others at the same time. I started to see how graciousness is self-loyalty expanded.
That same week, with everything building inside me, I went to yoga.
At the end of class, in shavasana, I felt the urge to cry. I didn’t understand why at first. I was just letting it be without analyzing, which is the new MO I’ve been trying to practice.
What came through was a deep feeling of compassion. For the suffering of others. For the work we're all doing to come back to ourselves. For how beautiful it is that life delivers exactly what we need when we stop forcing it.
I was integrating something. Moving through a transformation in real time. My body was reorganizing around something my mind hadn't fully named yet.
After class, I felt open. Thankful. Like something had shifted that I couldn't explain but could feel.
What the calling was
It took all of that for me to finally see it. It wasn't about claiming the business. It wasn't about owning the term "self-loyalty." It was about letting go of rigid self-protection.
For the past few years, self-loyalty has meant prioritizing myself above all else. And it needed to mean that. I spent my 20s abandoning myself for external validation. I needed my 30s to reverse that. To learn how to choose myself and build trust with my own truth.
But that phase had become rigid. It had become "me first, always." And life was calling me into something new. Into graciousness. Into compassion. Into choosing what's best for others without betraying myself in the process.
The evolution I didn't see coming
My 20s were about external validation. Living for others' approval. Suppressing myself to fit.
My 30s were about self-loyalty. Prioritizing myself. Learning to choose myself first.
Now, at 41, I'm being called into holding space for myself AND others.
I didn't plan this evolution. I didn't see it coming. I just trusted the calling. And life revealed it piece by piece. Through a documentary. Through a decision with my fiancé. Through a passage in a book. Through a release in shavasana.
My intention to trust the body before the mind understands really came through. Letting life show me instead of forcing clarity. Moving through the question instead of demanding the answer.
What I'm learning
There's a version of giving that serves me. A version of sacrifice that doesn't betray myself. A version of compassion that doesn't require self-abandonment.
I'm learning to feel the difference.
When I choose what's best for us, my body doesn't feel tight or anxious. It feels grounded. Clear. True. That's how I know it's not self-abandonment or regressing into old patterns.
I'm not going back to prioritizing everyone else. I'm learning to hold space for myself and others at the same time. That's the evolution.
I don't have it figured out yet. I'm in the middle of it. Trusting the unfolding.
Frequently asked questions
How do you trust a calling you can't name? You don't need to name it to trust it. The body knows before the mind does. The practice is learning to sit with the discomfort of not knowing instead of forcing clarity. When I felt the calling to let go of something, I didn't journal my way to understanding. I just trusted that if I needed to know, life would show me. And it did. The calling reveals itself when you're ready, not when you demand it.
What's the difference between self-loyalty and compassionate self-loyalty? Self-loyalty is staying aligned with your truth even when it costs you approval. Compassionate self-loyalty is holding space for yourself AND others at the same time. It's not about abandoning yourself to make others comfortable. It's about extending trust outward without betraying yourself. Instead of defaulting to, "What's best for me?" we genuinely consider the feelings of others. It's moving from the mind into the heart.
How do you know when you're choosing what's best for others without abandoning yourself? It's in how your body feels. When I choose what's best for us instead of just what's best for me, my body doesn't feel tight or anxious. It feels grounded. Clear. True. When I'm abandoning myself, I feel the tightness, the forcing, the override. The difference is subtle but real. I'm learning to trust that feeling instead of analyzing whether I'm doing it right.
