Newsletter - Sept 10th (written in French, translated with the help of ChatGPT)

I’m writing these words from the terrace of a beautiful house north of Barcelona, with the Mediterranean Sea before me. I just finished my morning cacao. The wind is softly rustling through the pines, and on the horizon I watch boats and clouds drift by.

This morning (well, more like noon, thank you jet lag), I woke up to the same view from my bedroom, swam in the pool, and then did my yoga practice—always with this view.

This is my third trip of the year—after Costa Rica in February and Greece in May. This summer I spent most of my time outside of Montreal, between festivals, retreats, and cottages. I celebrated my 39th birthday surrounded by friends. I allowed myself to receive, to pause, to enjoy—and to spend my time, money, and energy on what truly makes me happy.

This trip will take me to southern Spain for a retreat, then to visit family and friends in France, before returning to Montreal at the end of September to close out the year.

No, I haven’t suddenly become one of those coaches who sells you a dream life based on magically manifesting abundance, and I haven’t doubled my income overnight to afford this lifestyle. But I do want to honor the path I’ve walked and share some reflections with you.

Ten Years Ago: Anxiety

Ten years ago, I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder.
After a complicated immigration experience in Quebec that exposed the fragility of my mental health, I found myself for several years in a state of vulnerability—sleepless nights, anxiety attacks multiple times a week, recurring migraines, and the inability to work more than a few days per week.

I was suffering deeply. I was trapped in a way of living that was making me sick. I didn’t yet realize my life was about to change completely, setting me on the path to who I am today.

One Year Ago: Collapse

A year ago, when my ex ended our relationship, my world fell apart again. I spent months in the dark, moving forward one hour at a time, one day at a time, feeling completely lost.

Now, a year later, I gather the gifts of that transition. Through the pain, I let go of so many things I thought defined me, in a deep process of detachment and reintegration.

I am no longer the same person.
I feel so much more whole.

Looking back over my story—from childhood, through the sexual abuse I endured as a teenager, the struggles of immigration, my professional journey, my relationships, up to that breakup a year ago and all its consequences—I wouldn’t change a thing.

I wouldn’t be who I am if those events hadn’t happened, and I feel immense gratitude for what life has placed on my path.

There are still days when regrets surface, and I need to offer myself compassion—for actions and decisions I made, often from a place of suffering and reactivity, that hurt others. While this process is not simple, I feel proud to welcome myself in it, and to take accountability for the impact I’ve had.

The Nervous System Shift

Another central piece that has shifted, allowing me to live the life I live now—in gratitude, abundance, and flow—is the regulation of my nervous system.

I often get asked: “How did you heal from anxiety?”

First of all—I don’t use the word heal. My anxiety is a part of me, one I’ve learned to live with so it no longer controls my life. To “heal” would suggest there was something wrong with me—when in truth, my anxiety was an alarm system. Oversensitive, yes—but necessary to show me what needed to change, both within me and around me.

I didn’t “heal.” I found myself again.

The how is a longer story. Over the last ten years, I’ve explored so many practices and modalities: “traditional” therapy, somatic approaches (including Somatic Experiencing), IFS, shamanic practices, psychedelic journeys, breathwork, retreats, shadow work, and more.

Step by step, I released fear from my system. Along with it, the contraction—the control—that held it in place. What remains is a profound sense of presence, love, and wholeness.

A simple joy, expressed in unexpected and subtle ways, very different from the intensity I lived in for so many years.

The fear still exists. I see it, I welcome it, I transform it into living energy. I still feel anger, grief—I cry often. But I resist these experiences less, because I am less afraid of feeling.

Above all, I feel a greater sense of connection—with myself, with the world around me, in the visible and the invisible.

Looking Forward

Sitting here at this table with the sea before me, I watch my inner world.
I watch the outer world.
I watch the dance between them—
and I let myself imagine what comes next.

How can I let this past year be an inspiration for the rest of my life?

How can I transmit the teachings I’ve received, and share with others the learnings and gifts of my own path?

How can I live a life of joy, pleasure, and flow—while being in service, sharing the grace that moves through me?

What form does my life—and my professional offering—want to take in order to support these intentions, and to support you on your own path?

The answer is forming, slowly but surely.

More to come soon.

This summer, I wrote…

The Infinite Stranger
Danser pieds-nus
So Are We
Embracing the Mystery

I listened to…

Accountability in leadership: Embracing growth and collective empowerment with Kamela Love
Power in groups: Lessons from the blockchain with Jamie Zigelbaum

I read…

At the end of our lives don’t we want to say we celebrated the holiday of having bodies?
Don’t we want to know we lived like we never forgot we were born astonished and were never intended to grow out of our awe?
Awe is the most powerful medicine in the world. I have never felt awe and shame at the same time, awe and loneliness at the same time, awe and judgment at the same time, and nothing wakes us to awe more than life’s brevity.
Which is to say forming an intimate relationship with our mortality could not only save us, it could save our world. If you don’t believe me, tell me the last time you saw anything bite with its’ jaw dropped.

— Andrea Gibson

Whole text : https://andreagibson.substack.com/p/benefits-of-befriending-our-mortality?

Where i am now - looking at the journey, imagining the future