THE DEEP BRIEF

Week of July 21, 2025

I was walking through our garden yesterday morning, surveying the dramatic downsizing we did this year, when I had one of those moments of clarity that felt both obvious and revolutionary. 

For years, my husband has planted rows and rows of vegetables: tomatoes, peppers of every variety, onions, cucumbers, cauliflower, broccoli. Beautiful, abundant… and overwhelming. The irony is that he doesn’t actually eat vegetables. (British mother, Caesar salad counts as a vegetable. You know the type.) So, I’d end up drowning in food prep and preservation, trying to honour all that growth while secretly resenting the abundance I couldn’t keep up with.

This year, I finally convinced him to scale back dramatically. Partly because our Indian Runner ducks need a lot of attention, partly because I realized that just because something can grow doesn’t mean it should. Sometimes the most radical act is choosing less, not more.

This week, as we’re moving through a universal shift that’s all about authentic self-expression and reviewing our inner voice and the stories we tell ourselves, we’re getting a masterclass in the dance between our inner fire and our inner critic. In other words, between the part of us that wants to shine and the part that’s terrified of being seen.

THE WEEK’S ENERGY

There’s a fierce invitation moving through the collective field right now to step into our authentic power and creative expression. But what makes this particular moment complex is that while one part of the cosmic energy is pushing us forward boldly, another is asking us to slow right down and review our internal programming.

Don’t think this is about external delays or communication mishaps. The deeper current is asking us to examine the script we’re running about ourselves. The stories we tell about who we are, what we’re capable of, and whether we’re worthy of taking up space.

One energy wants to turn up the volume on your authentic self-expression, and another is asking you to first make sure the song you’re playing is actually yours, not the one your family programmed or the one society expects. And not the one that keeps you small and manageable. Yours.

Like my garden realization, sometimes the most powerful choice isn’t to grow more, bigger, and louder. Sometimes it’s to tend carefully to what actually nourishes you, and let go of the rest.

WHAT IT MIGHT FEEL LIKE

You might notice a strange push-pull happening inside you this week. One moment you feel ready to launch that project, have that conversation, or make that bold move. The next moment, you’re second-guessing everything and wondering if you’re being too much, too loud, too visible.

There might be moments of sudden stage fright not just about literal performances, but about showing up authentically in your own life. You might find yourself censoring your responses, shrinking your presence, or apologizing for taking up space before anyone even asks you to.

Some of you will notice old insecurities resurfacing with surprising intensity. The ones you thought you’d worked through. The voice that questions whether you’re talented enough, interesting enough, worthy enough to be seen and heard. This isn’t regression as much as it’s integration.

You also might find yourself having imaginary arguments with people who aren’t even in the room. Your mind running scenarios about how you’ll defend your choices, explain your decisions, or justify your existence. Pay attention to these mental rehearsals. They’re showing you something important about where you’re still seeking external validation instead of internal approval.

And then there are the unexpected and luminous moments when your authentic self just bursts through despite all the mental noise. When you speak your truth before your critic can stop you. When you move from your centre instead of your strategy. When you remember, viscerally, what it feels like to be unapologetically yourself. Ahhh…

SOUL PERSPECTIVE

Here’s what I’m sensing from the collective field: this week is about learning to hold both your fire and your fear with equal tenderness. Not choosing one over the other, but understanding that they’re both parts of your protection system that got a little confused about their job descriptions.

Your inner fire is that energy that wants to create, express, and shine.It’s ego and attention-seeking, sure. But it’s also your soul’s deep knowing that you came here to contribute something unique to the world. That your particular way of being alive matters. And that your voice, your vision, and your presence has value simply because it’s yours.

Your inner critic, on the other hand, isn’t actually trying to destroy you. It’s trying to keep you safe from rejection, abandonment, and the pain of being misunderstood. The problem is that somewhere along the way, it decided that the safest thing to do was to keep you invisible. To protect you from judgment by making sure there’s nothing to judge.

So, this moment is giving you a chance to have a new conversation with both parts of yourself. You can thank your critic for its years of service and gently update its job description. And you can help your fire understand that it doesn’t need to burn everything down to be seen. It just needs to burn true.

There’s a deeper invitation here too, and it’s to stop treating your authentic self-expression as something you need to earn the right to. You don’t need to be perfect to be visible. You don’t need to be exceptional to take up space. And you sure as heck don’t need anyone’s permission to be who you actually are.

Just like I learned in the garden, you don’t have to tend every possibility that presents itself. You can choose what to nurture based on what actually serves your life, not what looks impressive from the outside.

HOW TO BE WITH IT

First, get curious about your self-talk instead of trying to change it. When you catch that critic voice running its usual script, stop and ask: “When did I first learn to doubt myself like this? What was this voice trying to protect me from?” Understanding the origin story changes everything.

Practice loving yourself enough to believe that your authentic expression matters to the world. I don’t mean thinking you’re better than anyone else. Just thinking you’re worthy of the same creative freedom, emotional safety, and generous self-respect that you easily offer others.

Use this current energy to reconnect with what actually brings you joy, not what you think should bring you joy. What activities make you lose track of time? What conversations light you up? What creative outlets feel like coming home to yourself? Let these be your compass instead of external metrics of success.

And most importantly, practice taking up space in small, safe ways before you go for the big moves. Share an unpopular opinion. Wear something that makes you feel radiant. Speak up in a meeting. Let someone see you before you’re ready (like I talked about on Thursday). Build your tolerance for being visible gradually.

And remember, your authenticity is not a performance. It’s a practice. And like any practice, it gets easier the more you do it.

YOUR WEEK IN ONE SENTENCE

“This week, I stop trying to choose between being brave and being careful, and let myself be both.”

MINI PRACTICE FOR RADIANT AUTHENTICITY

(Thank you for all the feedback on these. I love knowing they’re landing!)

Each morning this week, before you check your phone or engage with the outside world, put your hand on your heart and ask: “What wants to be expressed through me today?” Listen without editing. Then throughout the day, notice the moments when you dim your light or amplify it. Don’t try to change anything. Just notice. At the end of the week, you’ll know way more about when you hide and when you shine, and you can start choosing which one feels right in the moment.

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This week, when someone asks how you’re doing, try answering with what’s actually true instead of what’s socially appropriate. When you feel the urge to apologize for being “too much,” stop and consider: too much for whom? And when that familiar voice says you’re not ready to be seen, remind it gently that readiness is not a prerequisite for authenticity.

Trust the fire. Tend the flame. And take up space.