Somewhere Between Overgiving and Under-receiving…We find Balance

An excerpt from the 2026 Fall Equinox Retreat…

The Pendulum Between Giving and Withdrawing

When we begin recognizing how much energy we have historically given away, there can be a natural correction. We pull back. We stop reaching outward. We become protective of our energy and may experience relief in withdrawing from relationships or situations that once overwhelmed us.

For a time, this can be necessary. But eventually we may discover that withdrawal can become another form of imbalance.

One participant described this as a pendulum. On one side was the empathic pattern of continually giving energy away. On the other was contraction—pulling everything inward in an effort to protect herself. Neither extreme felt like freedom. One depleted the self through overextension; the other protected the self by reducing relationship.

The deeper path lies between them.

We are not learning how to close ourselves to life. We are learning how to remain ourselves while being in relationship with life.

This requires practice because openness can initially feel vulnerable. If our previous experience of openness involved losing ourselves, then contraction may feel safer. Gradually, however, we discover another possibility: openness with sovereignty.

We can be sensitive without becoming porous to everything around us. We can love without energetically reaching into another person. We can listen without absorbing. We can care without taking responsibility for what does not belong to us.

Becoming Safe Enough to Know Ourselves

As the circle deepened, another essential teaching emerged: how much energy we use avoiding what we do not want to know about ourselves.

We all have patterns that are uncomfortable to see—reactivity, defensiveness, judgment, fear, control, resentment, self-criticism. Often these patterns operate so continuously that they become almost invisible. We experience their consequences without recognizing the underlying mechanism.

One participant described becoming aware of how much reactivity had been running through her inner life. Even when she did not outwardly react, her thoughts could remain caught in judgment and defensiveness. What had changed was not that every reaction disappeared. She was becoming able to return more naturally to an inner reference point of peace and stability.

That new reference point matters enormously. Transformation does not necessarily mean that we never become reactive again. It means we increasingly know where home is.

We recognize when we have moved away from ourselves, and the pathway back becomes more familiar.

Grounding Creates the Conditions for Discernment

It can be difficult to recognize our deeper patterns when we do not feel safe enough to see them. Defensiveness itself can prevent awareness. We protect ourselves from seeing what hurts, what frightens us, or what challenges the identity we have created.

This is one reason grounding is so central to this work.

Grounding creates conditions in which we can become more honest without immediately becoming overwhelmed. When we experience ourselves as held within our relationship with Mother Earth, we may become better able to allow difficult energies, emotions, and patterns into awareness without needing to defend against them.

Then discernment becomes possible. We can say, This is happening within me. Not: This is who I am.

Not: I am failing.

Simply: This is what is present.

That difference creates tremendous freedom.

When something can be seen without immediately becoming an identity or a reason for self-attack, it can begin to move. What was hidden becomes visible. What was defended can soften. What had been consuming enormous amounts of unconscious energy may finally become available for release.

The purpose of awareness is not self-judgment. The purpose of awareness is freedom.

Saying Yes to the Flow

One participant described discovering that alignment sometimes began with a simple inner yes. This was not a yes to every circumstance or every demand placed upon her. It was a yes to the deeper flow of her own being.

She noticed that this moved her away from striving, fixing, correcting, and attaining. Instead, she could soften into what felt true within her body. From that place, she experienced greater clarity and a deeper respect for both her own sovereignty and the sovereignty of others.

This is an important distinction. We often imagine sovereignty as mental certainty: knowing exactly what we think, making firm decisions, and exerting control over our circumstances. Yet sovereignty can exist even when the mind is uncertain.

Sovereignty is deeper than certainty. It is the capacity to remain in relationship with our own being even when we do not have all the answers.

From there, helping another person also changes. We begin noticing whether our desire to help arises from clarity or from expectation, anxiety, identity, or the need to be useful. Sometimes what appears to be helping can unintentionally diminish another person's sovereignty. We may decide what they need, take responsibility for something that belongs to them, or become attached to an outcome.

True service requires discernment.

Presence Changes What Becomes Possible

A beautiful example of this came through an ordinary accident. One participant described having his parked car struck by another driver. He remembered an earlier accident in which anger and reactivity had dominated the interaction, and this time he responded differently. He remained calm enough to recognize that the other person had not intended to cause harm.

Because he did not immediately react with anger, a different kind of conversation became possible. The other driver acknowledged that he had not been present when the accident occurred—that his mind had already moved ahead to the next thing instead of attending to what he was doing.

The damaged car still needed repair. Grounding did not prevent the accident. Spiritual practice did not make difficult circumstances disappear.

What changed was the quality of relationship within the circumstance.

This is a mature understanding of spiritual practice. We do not ground ourselves so that nothing unpleasant will ever happen. We ground so that when life happens, more of us is available to meet it.

Inch by Inch, Millimeter by Millimeter

Many of these transformations happen slowly. We may recognize an old pattern, work with it deeply, feel that it has finally cleared, and then discover another layer weeks or months later. The temptation is to become discouraged and conclude that we have failed.

But consciousness often develops through refinement rather than sudden completion. Inch by inch. Millimeter by millimeter.

We become aware sooner. We return more easily. We recognize self-criticism while it is happening rather than days later. We notice when we are leaving our center. We recognize the impulse to rescue before we act upon it. What once consumed us for days may pass through us in hours. Eventually, something that once controlled our lives may become only a faint movement that we can observe without following.

This is not failure to learn the lesson. This is embodiment.

The Integrity of the Higher Being

Ultimately, the aim is not spiritual perfection. It is the gradual incorporation and embodiment of the integrity of our higher being. The retreat participants were demonstrating this through very human situations—conflict, relationships, caregiving, professional identity, family difficulties, fear, accidents, and uncertainty. The spiritual work was not occurring somewhere separate from these experiences. It was becoming visible through them.

The measure of our development is not how extraordinary our experiences have become. It is increasingly revealed in how we live.

Can we remain present when something goes wrong? Can we notice when we have left ourselves?

Can we return without punishing ourselves? Can we love without merging?

Can we help without controlling?

Can we remain open without giving ourselves away?

Can we recognize another person's sovereignty even when we believe we know what would help them?

These are mature spiritual qualities. We develop them through thousands of small moments in which we choose, again and again, to return to relationship with our deeper being.

When Your Presence Becomes the Offering

Near the end of the sharing, one participant described being with a family member who was anxious and overwhelmed by everything she felt she needed to do. There was very little left that could actually be accomplished in that moment. Instead of continuing to fix the situation, the participant simply remained nearby and attended to her own grounding.

Eventually the family member stopped and told her that her presence was helping her feel calmer. The participant was surprised because she had not been consciously trying to calm anyone. She had simply been present.

This brings us back to the lighthouse.

We do not always have to reach outward with our energy in order to contribute something meaningful. We do not have to regulate another person, carry their pain, fix their emotions, or create their healing.

Sometimes the most profound contribution we can make is to remain deeply within ourselves. Grounded.    Present.            Available.

In relationship with Mother Earth, our higher being, and the Living Wholeness surrounding us.

From there, our presence naturally participates in the environment. We do not have to force it to radiate. We do not have to decide who should receive it.

We simply become increasingly coherent within ourselves and allow relationship to unfold.

This may be one of the great transitions in spiritual maturity: moving from trying to bring light into every situation to becoming capable of remaining within the light of our own being.

We do not leave our temple to carry the light to others. We learn to inhabit our temple so completely that the light can radiate on its own.