Finding the Path of Me: Awakening to Remembering Who I Am and Why I Am Here

Finding the Path of Me:

Awakening To Remembering Who I Am And Why I Am Here

Copyright © 2021 by Wendy Hutchinson

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Published by:

Alinea Life Coaching, Houston, TX

www.alinealifecoaching.com

ISBN: 978-1-7377210-0-0 (Trade Paperback)

ISBN: 978-1-7377210-1-7 (eBook)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021922815

First Printing 2021

Printed in the United States of America

Cover design by Becky Bayne

Book design and layout by Becky’s Graphic Design, LLC

Edited by Jessica Hatch, Hatch Editorial

Publisher’s Cataloging-In-Publication Data

(Prepared by The Donohue Group, Inc.)

Names: Hutchinson, Wendy, author.

Title: Finding the path of me : awakening to remembering who I am and why I am here / Wendy Hutchinson.

Description: Houston, TX : Alinea Life Coaching, [2021]

Identifiers: ISBN 9781737721000 (trade paperback) | ISBN 9781737721017 (ebook Kindle)

Subjects: LCSH: Hutchinson, Wendy--Psychology. | Self-actualization (Psychology) | Self-esteem. | Energy psychology.

Classification: LCC BF637.S4 H88 2021 (print)| LCC BF637.S4 (ebook) | DDC 158.1--dc23

I would like to dedicate this book to all the lightworkers who are coming forward at this time to be the lighthouse in stormy seas. May you all have the courage to say Hineni when you are called forth, even in the face of fear and know that in our own healing we bring forth the light.

Introduction

Somewhere, buried deep within each of us, is a call to purpose. It’s not always rational, not always clearly delineated, and sometimes even seemingly absurd, but the knowing is there. There’s a silent something within that intends you to express yourself. That something is your soul telling you to listen and connect through love, kindness, and receptivity.

— Dr. Wayne Dyer

One of my early memories is being seven years old, sitting in a church pew on a warm Saturday afternoon, making up sins. We are lined up, waiting to confess to a priest in the confessional box. I know I can’t go in there and say nothing because we’re all sinners; confession is expected. I can feel the humidity pressing in on me that day, a trickle of sweat running down my back. On one side of the wooden divider screen sits the priest, who listens to your sins, and I sit on the other, saying, Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. Then he asks me how long it has been since my last confession, and I begin to share the list of my seven-year-old transgressions. They are hard to come up with because, honestly, I don’t feel li ke a sinner!

He tells me how many prayers I have to say to be absolved of my sins; in this case a few Hail Mary prayers are said back in the pew.

Back then you had to attend confession on Saturday to take communion of the body of Christ on Sunday. My grandparents were very Catholic and took me to church almost every Sunday for as long as I can remember. The only good thing about church was the trip to Russell’s Drugstore afterward for candy. I found church hot and boring; we were, after all, in Hawaii, and no amount of paper dolls or coloring books could make that service go by faster. I vaguely remember being yelled at by the old, crotchety priest, Father Henry, for something; I can still feel the humiliation I felt in front of the entire congregation at such a young age. What I know for sure is that a culture of shame and guilt was built on the back of my religious experience. Religion taught me that I’m not good enough; no matter how hard I tried, I would always be a sinner. A seed of guilt was planted there that haunted me for decades to come whenever I didn’t live up to someone’s expectations.

I have snapshots of my childhood and early adulthood in my mind’s eye: piano recitals; softball games; winning awards; the joy I felt when my college acceptance packet came in the mail from the University of California, Santa Barbara; my perfect wedding day; landing my first corporate job. All of these are reflections of my Asian upbringing where success is everything. So much is unspoken but understood: you do not mess up, you do not have human moments, you get back up when life knocks you down, and you never complain. This is my family of origin story, which I will explain in the next chapter of the book. I possess the strength of a lion because of it, but I learned early on to mask my feelings and meet expectations. I was conditioned to strive and achieve at an early age. I now understand, as I hope you soon will, too, that praise is different from love, not to mention how it shaped my perception of myself.

Praise sends a message that conditions you to keep seeking it, to keep trying harder to be better, which reinforces the message that you are never enough. Perfectionist behavior was the organic byproduct of my culture. Love, on the other hand, is the full acceptance of who you are regardless of what you achieve. In a traditional Asian household, our culture equates financial success with worthiness. The image we present is everything, and emotions and feelings are masked; no one asks you how you feel or teaches you how to connect with your feelings or intuition. Instead, you armor up and accomplish things. You bury your emotions because showing emotion is weakness and translates into failure. I want to cry as I write this because I lost decades of my life criticizing instead of loving myself, striving to be perfect and worthy.

My home life, culture, and faith poured the foundation for who I am as an adult, just as yours did for you. My Asian culture programmed me to strive, achieve, and win at life because this is the Asian way. The more you achieve, the more you are praised and therefore the more you are loved. For decades I asked myself why being a good person was never enough. I was chasing a moving target I could never hit, and it was exhausting keeping the house perfect and getting after my sons to study and play sports and pursue their musical talent. (Unconscious Asian programs get passed down.) I made it all look so easy; how could anyone know I was slowly coming apart at the seams?

Fast forward to Christmas 2009. I’m drinking a glass of chardonnay with the fireplace lit and the house perfectly decorated. Everything looks beautiful, and Bing Crosby is singing, Chestnuts roasting on an open fire. I’ve mailed out the perfect holiday photo card even though things at home are rough. Tensions are running high with college tuition looming for my older son, and my husband and I are fighting constantly about how I am parenting the kids. I feel the judgment from my extended family even though it’s unspoken. I am throwing ornaments on the tree and crying into my glass of wine because no one cares or appreciates anything I do.

My sons were typical teenagers at this time, not interested in helping me do something stupid like decorate the Christmas tree. My husband was buried in work and pretty much encouraging our sons to do whatever they pleased because he was strongly against my parenting style, which involved actually parenting the kids by enforcing a curfew and having expectations that they would do chores, study for finals, and not smoke weed. I was outnumbered three to one, and everything was a fight. The more I tried to control them, the more they all pushed back. I felt exhausted and alone.

Defeated and resentful, I looked around at all the perfectly wrapped presents I had thoughtfully purchased for people who refused to appreciate me and quite possibly hated me. I wiped my tears away and pulled myself together to do what I always did: I dug deep and vowed no one would ever break me. I masked up. All those emotions were stuffed back inside the overflowing container that was me. Then I went into the kitchen to cook dinner for the family.

My spiritual growth was not linear, and yours won’t be either. The process of awakening is like walking a spiral up a mountain path. As Elizabeth Gilbert says, There’s always another level up. There’s always another ascension. More grace, more light, more generosity, more compassion, more to shed, more to grow.

As I traveled along the upward spiral, I experienced different variations on the same theme. Similar situations kept presenting themselves in my life until I learned the lessons they were trying to teach me. The experience, I found, repeats itself until the lesson is learned. I noticed the same patterns or similar nexus points year after year; each turn a little higher up the mountain offered me a broader perspective on them. I experienced various emotional triggers and lessons as I evolved and grew; they gifted me with an opportunity to respond each time in a more elevated way. At first, I reacted emotionally by projecting my wounds on every encounter. Sometimes I felt like I was sliding backward instead of growing into a better version of myself. Then I learned to get curious; I went beyond the experience to explore my feelings and why I was triggered, and this helped me learn to respond with more compassion and love toward others and ultimately toward myself.

I was born an empath but had no awareness around my gifts. I was called sensitive as if it was a terrible thing. My upbringing taught me never to show vulnerability because that was weakness, so I walked this tightrope of denying who I am (sensitive) and showing up as the person I was expected to be (fully armored and protected). Until I learned to love myself and walk through the world as the empowered light being that I am, nothing would shift. Finding the path of me was a process, and each step was a gift regardless of how painful the experience was. I learned that I can be sensitive with boundaries, empowered with compassion. As I changed the lens and focused on my journey, I learned to accept what I cannot change. Accepting full responsibility for choices that brought me here allowed me to stop blaming everyone else for my fate. On this journey I discovered who I am, and in this empowered state, I no longer engage in conflict. I walk away and sever relationships that are toxic. I accept people for who they are and know that choosing myself often requires me to disappoint others. As my heart opened itself to me, the treasure of who I am was revealed. Never again will I allow anyone to determine my worth and value based on what I can give them. I can never diminish who I am because I am here to walk through the world as the highest expression of me; to be anything less is a betrayal of my soul.

I have researched extensively the process of awakening and ascension through my own experience over the past twelve years. This created a road map for me, and I formed a philosophy that helped me return to my authentic self. My philosophy is bigger than linear definitions of Christianity or Buddhism or even spirituality in general. Most people have a life philosophy that falls into specific paradigms, but mine is not based on a particular belief system. Instead it formed from the organic evolution of my soul. As you read my book, imagine walking down a buffet line, tray in hand, picking and choosing concepts, ideas, and information that resonate with your soul. Every single person is here for their own human experience. I focus on myself and try not to judge the journey of another. It is a privilege to walk beside you here and support your journey and cheer you on even if your path is far different from my own.

There will be many things that you may experience differently than I have because there are as many paths up the mountain as there are humans walking this planet. There is no right way or wrong way; it is 100 percent your way. You do not have to possess any psychic abilities, be a healer, or have some incredible connection to the divine to ascend and create a better human experience for yourself. All that is required is a conscious connection to yourself and the willingness to begin the process of healing and releasing unconscious programming, deep inner wounds, and unhealed trauma. This process of facing ourselves and healing I call sitting in the fire or doing the work.

For those of you who are in deep depression or prolonged periods of grief, this book should not take the place of professional therapy or guidance. I have at two points along my journey sought professional therapy, and it helped give me perspective. As I met my authentic self and broke free from the fear patterns and programming that had constrained me, my truth became clear. Truth for me comes through a feeling, a knowing, a full-body confirmation from my own discernment, not from being told what to believe. The decision to follow your own compass will be a tipping point, the moment you begin to find your footing and the courage to stay the course.