Inner Wisdom Rising

Home
Canada
New Dundee, ON
Inner Wisdom Rising

A space for embodiment, inner healing, and growth, focusing, self-discovery, and connections.

10/15/2025

The edge of self-acceptance feels like death because something does have to die. The version of you that’s been managing perception, performing worthiness, staying safe by staying hidden. The self that believed you had to be healed before you could be held. That self can’t survive the work of actually being seen.

But there’s something more that self-acceptance asks of us. It asks if we can stay, even when we’re not received. Even when we’re judged. Even when someone we love can’t hold all of who we are. It asks if we can know our worth even when their idea of us being wrong tries to convince us we’re unlovable. It asks if we can refuse to collapse into someone else’s perception of us, to keep our center even when the mirror they hold back feels distorted, incomplete, or confronting.

This is where self-acceptance lives. Not in the moments when we’re celebrated or understood, but in the moments when we’re not. When we take up space and someone pulls away. When we show a part of ourselves that makes another person uncomfortable. When our growth threatens someone else’s idea of who we should be. Can we stay with ourselves there? Can we hold our own worth without needing their validation to make it real?

Self-acceptance isn’t something you earn through enough therapy or self-knowledge. It’s something that gets built in real time, through real experiences, with people who can hold a mirror to your edges without demanding you perform. It’s what allows you to stay in connection without shrinking, to take responsibility without erasing yourself, to see yourself clearly without sliding into shame or superiority.

This is the work. Not fixing yourself into someone else’s version of acceptable. But learning to stay, whole and undefended, even when staying feels like the hardest thing you’ve ever done.

09/23/2025

Every time my husband called unexpectedly, my body would tense before I even said hello.
 Over 19 years together, the hardest news often came through phone calls. Car accidents on his way to work, family emergencies that could not wait, medical results that changed everything. My nervous system started keeping score, filing each ring as potential danger.

It did not matter that 95 percent of his calls were ordinary. “What do you need from the store?” “Just wanted to hear your voice.”
 My body only remembered the 5 percent that had shattered my world.

It showed up in our conversations. I would skip his niceties, the “Hey hun, how are you,” and push for the bottom line. I sounded short, already bracing. Physically, my jaw would lock. Emotionally, I was on alert, trying to manage a crisis that had not been named. It was not how I wanted to show up, but my body was scanning for risk.

I finally found the words. I am scared. I am scared you are calling to tell me something bad happened, or is about to happen. It is hard to have a normal conversation until I know we are safe.

This is how trauma can live in the body, not only as memories or stories, but as expectations and sensations.

Rewiring took time and intention, and we did it together. He started texting first, “I am going to call, everything is okay.” Before answering, I grounded, feet on the floor, one slow exhale. On the call I asked, “Are we safe,” and waited for the yes.

Slowly, my body learned that his voice could carry ordinary love, not only crisis. The work was not pretending the fear made no sense, it was building new associations, one gentle call at a time.

Your body remembers to keep you safe. Sometimes that protection becomes its own kind of prison.
 This is the core of my work, turning implicit fear loops into lived safety, inside your body and inside your relationships. We do it with intention and with partnership.

09/22/2025

Yes, ChatGPT can feel like a therapist in your pocket, patient and always available. No cancelled appointments, no awkward silences, no one has to rearrange their life to be with you, and that’s why it can feel so easy to reach for in the hard moments.

And yet, true relational healing requires stepping into a living, reciprocal field. It requires people who can read your breath, sense your edge, hold both boundary and invitation, notice the micro shifts in your nervous system, speak the hard thing with care, then stay to repair what breaks.

That movement, that timing, that mutual return, is where real change lives. That is relational alchemy, the slow, lived transformation that happens only in human to human connection, whether friend, therapist, healer, facilitator, coach, or sister. Healing, in the deepest sense, requires human to human experience.

09/18/2025

We can be in a relationship with someone and never truly allow them to love us, or allow ourselves to love them as deeply as we could.

There’s something about the way we used to love before we learned to protect ourselves, that complete immersion, that openness without armor. We didn’t yet know how to brace for endings.

Then grief teaches us its lessons. Whether through breakups, death, illness, or separation from someone we love, grief feels enormous. Overwhelming. Like a flood that disconnects us from ourselves and makes us question whether we can handle that intensity again.

Here’s what I’ve come to understand: I don’t believe the opposite of love is hate. I believe the opposite end of love’s spectrum is grief. They are bound together, fused as one experience. You can’t experience love without grief. You can’t experience loss without having loved somebody. You can’t grieve somebody you didn’t love.

When we experience loss without the skills to move through grief, we learn that loving fully means risking devastation.

So we start keeping subtle distance. We hide our vulnerability, hold back our affection. We don’t share what’s really bothering us. We resist allowing someone to see and hold all of our parts because we’re afraid that if someone sees everything, they might leave.

This fear begins to architect how we move in relationships. We can be with someone for years, someone safe, someone who could hold our full selves, and never truly let them in. Not because they’re unsafe, but because we learned that love and loss are inseparable.

But what if we could change our relationship with grief itself? What if we could recognize grief as love with nowhere to go? The intensity that once felt like it would consume us becomes something that moves through us rather than destroying us.

When we understand that love and grief are fused, part of the same sacred experience, we stop needing to protect ourselves from the depths of love.
We can love like our younger selves again, not naively, but consciously. With both wonder and wisdom intact.

09/16/2025

Settling doesn’t always look dramatic. It shows up as

❗️ The fear of losing your “only” close friend

❗️ Telling yourself you’re being too sensitive

❗️ Choosing familiar disappointment over unknown possibility

Underneath those rationalizations is often a quiet ache: the experience of feeling unseen, unconsidered, or carrying more of the weight than the friendship can hold.

When we settle, we compromise our deeper relational needs: reciprocity, resonance, mutual care. We minimize the times they don’t show up, excuse the dismissive comments, keep giving even when it’s not reciprocated. We tell ourselves it’s fine because there’s no outright harm. But fine isn’t the same as fulfilling.

The impact of settling is subtle but cumulative. Over time, it leaves us lonely in connection, questioning our own worth, or convincing ourselves we’re asking for too much. It creates a quiet erosion, not always visible on the outside, but deeply felt within.

When we settle in friendship, we’re training ourselves for how we’ll show up everywhere else. We get used to silencing our needs, overlooking misalignments, staying loyal to the past instead of being honest about the present. In doing so, we miss out on friendships where we feel genuinely heard, where care flows both ways, and where we can be ourselves without pretense.

We miss the friendships where you’re known, valued, and met with the same energy you give.

Address

New Dundee, ON

Telephone

+15195035957

Website

https://www.innerwisdomrising.ca/communityconnectioncall

Alerts

Be the first to know and let us send you an email when Inner Wisdom Rising posts news and promotions. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose, and you can unsubscribe at any time.

Contact The Practice

Send a message to Inner Wisdom Rising:

Shortcuts

Want your practice to be the top-listed Clinic in New Dundee?