My personal mission is to deepen authentic connection in my world by teaching conscious, courageous and compassionate transformation.
There four parts to my mission statement:
- Conscious is the role of my inner king
- Courageous calls forth my warrior
- Compassion is the heart work of the lover
- Transformation is magician work
My mission means many things to me. It is a constant challenge to show up living my mission. I must be open to continuous and ongoing transformation in myself, and I hold the possibility that as I do my work, some of it will rub off on others.
Ever since the first night of my NWTA initiation in November, 2001, I have known that much of my personal work is about my relationship with my personal power… my relationship with my inner king. I grew up believing that those with power will abuse it and hurt people, As I grew in this work, I learned and eventually internalized that abuse is a choice and if I am conscious, I can choose not to abuse but instead become a powerful blessing king.
Courageous is warrior work. For me it means being fearless about looking inward. I won’t be any good to anybody in a gun fight, but I can certainly model the openness and vulnerability necessary to lead men into the battle within. And I can learn to cut cleanly and with clear intention when a cut is needed.
And finally we come to compassion. It has taken me many years to let go of the negative judgments I have held about myself and find self-compassion. I have been told by many that I have a “huge heart” and I hope that is not literal but metaphorical. I connect easily with others because I have learned not to judge them. But under that, I believe that having true compassion for others requires that I first have it for myself.
By including these four directions in my mission statement, I am also seeking balance and range, the ability to call on each archetype when the situation requires it. There is a time an place for everything and it’s important not to bring the wrong archetype into some situations. I still remember coming home from an NWTA weekend, walking in the door and saying in a loud, strong voice, “Honey, your warrior is home!” It took me three hours of humbly eating crow to clean up that mess.