We are everything.

“And the thing is, it’s not about the label at all. It’s about the box. Regardless of what we label ourselves, the box remains — four walls, confining, limiting, rule-enforcing. But when we let the box fall away, what’s left is everything — no limits, only possibility.”

I’ve been in a period of harvest, but not the kind I’m used to. It’s an inner harvest of sorts, of seeds I’ve planted and cultivated throughout my life, some familiar and some new.

You see, last month marked one year since I left my full-time career to dive into entrepreneurship. This moment invited a deep state of reflection. Looking back, I’d always prided myself on not letting my “sexy” job inform my identity, but I still did to some extent. And after leaving my full-time role, I found myself clinging to a new identity — entrepreneur.

As I continue to integrate many new and old identities one year later, what I’ve realized is this: any identity we cling to is a confining one. Oftentimes we leave one identity behind only to cling to another. And the thing is, it’s not about the label at all. It’s about the box. Regardless of what we label ourselves, the box remains — four walls, confining, limiting, rule-enforcing. But when we let the box fall away, what’s left is everything — no limits, only possibility. This is our nature as Divine beings. We are infinite.

So perhaps this harvest is a call to unearth all parts of me that I’ve tried to either tuck away or compartmentalize as I grow. The parts I thought couldn’t co-exist with new layers of my being. Remembering that this life is cumulative, and throughout it, we’re constantly being called to discern what stays and what goes. And in order for this discernment to be effective, we must look beyond who we thought we were, or had to be — beyond the conditioning that’s still buried in the fabric of our new layers, awaiting its day of reckoning.

We must strive to see ourselves through the eyes of the Divine, and know that when we cling to nothing, we find everything.

So, I welcome this harvest, and I hope you'll welcome your own.