Is it time for you to ask yourself this question?

The moon was full the evening before my father died. I was walking back to my dormitory in Maine after an all-night gathering, my steps making soft sounds against the melting snow. The air tasted of wet pine, and small pools of water had formed where rain had fallen earlier.

It was May, though winter tends to linger in Maine well past its welcome.

The moon that night was unlike any I had seen before. Its light cut a clear path back to my dorm, strong enough that I needed no other guidance. The campus was quiet, the stillness almost physical. I felt safe within that cocoon of silence.

Perhaps it was the lingering warmth of connection from the evening or the momentary freedom that comes from being between places, but I found myself asking the question that had been following me as graduation approached: Who am I?

At that threshold between student life and whatever came next, I sensed I was becoming someone new, though I couldn't yet see her clearly. Who am I becoming? I wondered, feeling the contours of a self still taking shape.

The ringing phone shattered my sleep the next morning. I needed to return home immediately. With my head pounding, I packed a small bag and drove a borrowed car well beyond all speed limits. The news of my father's death left me stunned, altered in ways I couldn't yet comprehend.

I became different from that moment forward. The answer to my question shifted suddenly, dramatically. No whispers this time, but a loud, unmistakable call to take care of my family. That is who I became—caretaker.

That year marks the first time I remember consciously asking myself this fundamental question: Who am I? Since then, it has returned at pivotal moments, mainly when I sense a shift approaching but haven't quite caught up to its meaning. When I'm truly paying attention, I can hear the whisper from my deepest self, revealing whether I'm living authentically or inhabiting someone else's idea of who I should be.

Now, I understand that this question requires regular asking. And the moment an answer leaves my lips, I've already begun transforming beyond it. Each answer captures just a moment in time, infinite moments reflecting how my essential self chooses to manifest. This question forms the foundation for living with purpose. I ask it often, casting it into the quiet spaces of my life, allowing it to return with clarity that aligns my path with who I truly am.

Here along the Algarvian coast, where the rhythm of waves against cliffs keeps time differently than the bustle of my former life, this question takes on new dimensions. Walking the coastal paths with Sophie each morning, watching how the sea and sky meet in constantly shifting hues, I find renewed space to contemplate identity beyond the roles I've played.

Here's what I've learned about inviting this question and listening for its authentic answer:

Create stillness. Consciously make space in your life, mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually. If meditation feels elusive, walk quietly in nature without an agenda. Step away from your desk, far from electronics and conversation. Sit on a bench overlooking the water. Allow the natural world to hold your questions.

Connect with the earth. Place your hands in garden soil, feel the texture of tree bark, prepare vegetables you've grown yourself. If you're drawn to animals, observe their uncomplicated presence, their way of being fully themselves without pretense. They have much to teach us about authentic living.

Nurture true friendships. Surround yourself with people who value you as you are, those who tell honest truths with compassion and demonstrate integrity in their own lives. Seek friends who energize your spirit and challenge you to grow into your most authentic self.

Develop a spiritual practice. Explore your version of spirituality, whether through structured tradition or personal ritual. Create a small altar in your home with objects that hold meaning. Light candles. Write. Sing. Connect with something larger than yourself, however you conceive this connection.

Honor your body. Nourish your physical self with the same attentiveness you give to your mind and heart. When you feel physically well and properly rested, you can hear your inner wisdom better, even when facing resistance or challenges.

Imagine limited time. Consider having only 48 hours left to live. What would occupy these final hours? Who would you want beside you? Where would you choose to be? The answers reveal what you genuinely value beyond social expectations or habitual patterns.

Ask repeatedly. The Zen tradition treats "Who am I?" as a koan, a riddle impossible to solve through logical thinking alone. Ask yourself this question at least fifty times (genuinely). Write each answer, however repetitive or contradictory. Listen for the voice beneath your practiced responses.

Seek trusted reflection. We cannot see ourselves clearly and need others to reflect back our gifts. Ask people you trust what they see as your unique qualities. Allow them to offer this gift of perspective without immediately dismissing what feels uncomfortable.

Apply to your work. Has your professional environment changed since you first began this path? How has your personal evolution influenced shifts in your work, and vice versa? Does your current work still align with who you are becoming?

Practice letting go. We often resist our soul's voice because it means releasing familiar parts of our past; behaviors, beliefs, and identities. We cling to the known, preferring its limitations to the uncertainty of growth. If you're asking, "Who am I?" for the first time in years, you may discover an answer requiring new strategies or even a transformation of long-held beliefs.

So many years after that moonlit night in Maine, I continue asking: Who am I? Each time I answer, I discover new facets of myself, different expressions of my essence, and countless creative possibilities for becoming. It's a journey worth taking. I hope you discover your own answer in the stillness. The question will transform everything.

Everyday Epiphanies: Uncovering Wisdom in Ordinary Moments

The story above is excerpted from my new book, Everyday Epiphanies. If you're ready to take control of your life, Everyday Epiphanies gives you the tools to design a happier, more purposeful path. With heartfelt insights and actionable advice, this book helps you grow, reflect, and embrace the changes that lead to a better, more authentic version of yourself.

I wrote the first edition in 2007. As you know, or can imagine, my life has changed in significant and unexpected ways. My work has evolved to a deeper engagement with life and all its facets. And, of course, I now live in the Algarve of Portugal, which truly has become a part of my identity and work.

I wanted this book to be your go-to when you feel off, or lost, or adrift. When you want to make commitments while holding to your boundaries. When your life is overly busy and you don't know how to stop but must. When you're shifting and you're afraid to let go to move forward.

For all these times and more, this book will give you the tools to design a happier, more purposeful path. With heartfelt insights and actionable advice, and a dose of humor, this book helps you grow, reflect, and embrace the changes that lead to a better, more authentic version of yourself.

One Last Thing: A Poll

Would you like this book in audiobook format? Having produced The Shaman's Wife in audiobook, I'm aware of how busy people are now consuming books. I myself still love to hold a book, and I often buy both the paperback or kindle and the audiobook. Please let me know here if you'd like to see an audiobook version of Everyday Epiphanies.

Thank you for being part of this community. I’d love to hear what epiphanies arise for you as you read.

With warmth and presence,

​

​

​

​

​