Skating Into Stillness: A Journey Home to Myself

This year has been one of retraining myself. Unlearning. Slowing down. For so long, I’ve been rolling through life on autopilot, skating mindlessly without direction or intention. My roller skates carried me, but I wasn’t steering. Now, I’m taking the reins. I’m skating with purpose.

It’s been a process of undoing—shedding layers of the girl I once thought I was, unraveling expectations, and meeting the woman I’m creating myself to be. Each moment this year has been intentional, and though it’s been hard at times, it’s been beautiful.

It’s been over a year since my divorce was finalized . It forced me to look at myself in ways I never had before. There was no escaping me—no matter where I went, there I was.

I had to face the patterns, the distractions, and the identities I clung to for comfort. I realized how exhausting it was to try so hard to be something I’m not, all while not even knowing who I really was.

Yet, there’s no shame in that. Every layer I’ve stripped away has been part of my perfect process. Each step has led me here.

This year ended with 10 days of silence during my Vipassana retreat. Ten days that taught me to remap the way I live—to embrace stillness and silence instead of constant motion. In those moments of quiet, I saw the truth of my mind.

My mind has been like a wild child, running loose, undisciplined, and sly. I came face-to-face with her sneaky habits—how easily she grasped at thoughts, attachments, and distractions. It felt like coming off a drug—the drug of thinking.

For the first time, I understood what it meant to retrain my mind. To sit her down and tell her….I’m in charge now!

Over the past few years prior to my marriage ending, and especially after my divorce, I learned what hell felt like. Hell isn’t a place you visit; it’s something you create within yourself. It’s the constant state of alarm, the spinning thoughts, the worry about the past or the future.  Not living in integrity to yourself. I had to learn what integrity meant in a new way that I learned within myself. It was a choice I had to make looking at my life choices and deciding to live different and more honest with myself, no one else.

But this year, I also witnessed heaven. I found it not in people, things, or experiences but within the walls of my own divine heart. Heaven lives where peace, joy, and harmony reside. I had been seeking everywhere but within.

The path from the mind to the heart is the grandest and hardest and maybe true longest journey we take. It’s easy to get distracted by shiny objects along the way and lose sight of the truth waiting within.

For so long, I lived on the hamster wheel—endlessly running but going nowhere. I didn’t realize the cage I was in was my own mind. This year, I opened the cage, stepped out, and noticed a world I hadn’t seen before.

In my Vipassana retreat, the more silent I became, the more I noticed the subtle ways I sought attention or connection—words I wanted to say, jokes I hoped others would laugh at, even small facial expressions. I saw patterns that were holding me back, and I knew they needed to change. It also became clear how much our habits with our phones pull us away from ourselves—how easily we check out, distracting ourselves instead of listening to the quiet voice of our spirit calling us back to our true nature. They’ve really got us with this little device in our hands, haven’t they? Who needs drugs when you have it right in your hands with a little dopamine hit any moment we want it…but we don’t have to let it win. I realized I need to set mine down, let it gather some dust, and see where life takes me without the constant need to be connected online. I want to root myself in the earth, to be fully present, and to build real, tangible connections—deep, meaningful relationships that feed my soul.

This is where the real work begins. Retraining the mind is a practice, and it requires daily discipline. It’s not about doing more—it’s about being more. Less avoidance, fewer distractions, more presence.

This next year may be the most challenging yet. I’m choosing to become the master of my mind. I know what that means: it’s going to test me. My mind will kick back, resist, and try to take over.

But I’m ready. I’ve seen the peace that stillness brings. I’ve felt what it’s like to quiet the noise and listen to my own spirit. Now I’m willing to keep showing up for myself.

It’s not about looking far into the year ahead. It’s about what’s right in front of me. Life isn’t “out there.” It’s right here, right now, in this moment. Each moment is an opportunity to choose how I want to live—to respond instead of react.

This year has been about doing the work. And yet, in so many ways, I feel like I’m starting over. Learning to walk again. Learning to live intentionally. Gathering my angel team, leaning into their support, and having mercy on myself as I walk this inward journey.

I’ll still live my fun, adventurous life, but now I recognize when I’m using those things to distract myself or seek something outside of me. The work isn’t done. It’s a practice—one that I choose to continue every single day.

I honor myself for how far I’ve come, but I know the journey doesn’t end here. It’s just beginning.

This year, I’m making art with the way I live. I’m choosing humility over pride, discipline over chaos, and presence over distraction.

I am skating with purpose now, listening to my spirit, and on fire🔥

I am my own master, I create my own future, here and now!

Heaven is within me. I’m here for it all, moment by moment, glide by glide.

Xoxo,

Raya🛼💫