This beautiful moment.

Underneath the lived experience of this human life — the mental chatter, the emotional weather, the physical sensations — there’s something spacious that isn't moved by any of it. Something still and neutral and silent. Something accepting and true. This is the “why” of meditation for me, the great remembering: to know this aspect of myself that was forgotten. And when I rest here long enough to feel into it, what I find is love. I find a spacious awareness that is curious and open, delighted by the growth, the courage, the becoming of this messy life.

When I touch into this awareness, I see that there is no separation between the part of me that's eternal and the part of me that's living this life. The love is just there. And there’s nothing Ashley has to do to earn it. Forgiveness and compassion are always already available. And when I rest here, the grip on feeling like I need to be someone starts to loosen — that part of me that has felt compelled to manage an identity, control an outcome, protect some version of myself I decided, a long time ago, needed protecting. When I can agree to let go of all of that effort, underneath the doing, there's just this open-hearted curiosity. This love.

Meditation has given me enough pause, enough space, enough ground to journey through unravelling what is not true so that I can begin to see clearly what is. To listen and become aware of what's actually moving through the spaciousness of me right now. I'm learning to trust and go toward what feels right, what feels exciting, what feels peaceful — and let the rest go. Nothing to earn, nothing to prove. Just this beautiful moment, met with presence and acceptance.