When You Look in the Mirror
~ by Leni Cellini

When you look in the mirror
what do you see?
Can you see the stars and the planets,
the mountains and the trees?

Can you see the whales and the oceans?
The soaring eagles, the howling wolves?
Can you see butterflies and waterfalls,
the many phases of the moon?

When you look in the mirror,
tell me, what do you see?
Do you only see you,
or can you also see me?

Do you see your grandparents,
their siblings, daughters and sons?
Do you see all generations passed
and those yet to come?

When you look in the mirror
don’t tell me that all you see
is your latest haircut,
or the colour of your clothes.
The tiredness in your eyes,
or the size of your nose.

The length of your legs
or the spots on your skin.
No, my dear, there is so much more
when you truly look within.

Look again into the mirror
and maybe you will find
the whole universe staring back at you
with the most loving eyes.

I see you, wise woman.
How often you hold back.
How you swallow your words.
How you keep yourself small.

I see you, courageous woman.
How you long for depth, for realness.
How you struggle with yourself,
with old convictions
– often unconscious.

‘I don’t matter.’

‘My voice isn’t important.’

‘I don’t have anything to say.’

‘It is better to stay silent.’

How scary it is for you to speak.
How terrifying to express your truth.
How hard these moments can be
when you gather your courage to speak
and it isn’t received well.
Not appreciated or valued.
Minimised, ridiculed.

(c) Lucy Campbell

I see you, sensitive woman.
How you adapt yourself.
How you try to conform
to what society asks of you.
What it means to be a woman,
to be a girl.

A good girl.
Compliant. Obedient.
Without any needs.
Not being too loud.
Definitely not too loud.
Not too wild.
In the background.
Supportive. Invisible.

I see you, kind woman.
How you try to be there for everyone.
How you set aside your own needs
in order to care for others.

Your tendency to sacrifice yourself.
How you may have come to believe
that the needs of others are more important
than your own.

How you may assume
it is your responsibility
to make sure everyone around you
is well and happy.

Perhaps you often believe you’re falling short.
Perhaps you are exhausted, running on empty.
Perhaps you can feel a frustration building inside,
a secret desire to have more space for yourself.

Perhaps you also sense it is time.
Perhaps slowly but surely
something is waking up inside you
that is starting to protest, to rebel.
Perhaps you are coming to realise
just like many, MANY other women,
that something has to change.

(c) Lucy Campbell

A new story is on the horizon.
We are on the verge of something new.

A world where women are allowed to shine.
Where they live from a place of worthiness.
Where they dare to speak their truth.
Uncensored. Uninhibited.

The world needs your voice.
The world needs your unique contribution.
The world needs your inner worth,
your permission to fully be you.
To show yourself to the world.
To dare to be heard.

To break the decades of conditioning
of playing small and keeping quiet.
To finally break the cycle
of many centuries of inferiority.

To live more and more
from a deep inner knowing
how precious you are as a woman.

To finally embody your power.
To dare to embody your wild nature.
And to share your fire with the world.

Because it is time.
Your voice is needed.

Like many of us, I want to contribute to world peace. It is my intention to practice non-violence in my thoughts, words, and actions. To embody peace, tolerance, and compassion wherever I go. However, this is much easier said than done. No matter how strong my intention and dedication to be peaceful, I have to recognise that sometimes my thoughts can be very violent and judgmental.

The medicine for me has been not to judge myself for it, but to actually look deeply into my own judgments and stories. To become curious when my mind goes into blaming or complaining mode. And to take responsibility for my own needs that lie underneath the judgments.

(c) Plum Village

The trigger

For example, there was a young woman in our residency whom I perceived as very strong, sensual, and self-confident. I judged her as being too loud, taking up too much space, and too full of herself. This caused me to feel disconnected and distant towards her. Generally, I tried to avoid spending much time with her, in order not to feel tension or unease.

During the course of the month, as I was getting to know myself better and all my parts, something started to shift. I became more curious about the judgments and tension that I experienced. Slowly, I became more aware that a part of me felt intimidated or insecure. As if the other woman’s power made me shrink. As if her self-confidence made me feel inferior. As if I couldn’t be myself when she allowed her voice to be heard. Basically, I came to realise that it was less about her than about me. That she didn’t do anything ‘wrong’, but that there were parts of me crying out for my attention and understanding.

Courageous conversations

As a result, I began to feel less tense around the other young woman. In the last week of my stay, I even asked her to spend some time together. We had a courageous conversation about how we had perceived each other during the residency. I found it very connecting and healing to learn about each other’s insecurities and shadow sides.

During our conversation, I had the insight that my unease came from a conviction that women are not supposed to be strong or confident. That this somehow is dangerous and not welcome. That core belief causes me to feel uncomfortable and even scared when a woman dares to speak up in a group. Then a part of me immediately feels unsafe and goes into judging mode. I could begin to mourn that this conviction is so strong in me, and that it often prevents me to connect to other women.

To me it is very clear that what happened between us on a micro level also happens between women on a larger scale. The mutual tension that was present is a reflection of a collective painful dynamic that keeps women small and silent. A certain (unconscious) belief that women are supposed to be quiet, invisible, and accommodating around others. That they cannot be loud, strong, or sexy. Therefore, it seems crucial to me that we are willing to have such radically honest conversations with each other, in order for unhealthy dynamics to surface and begin to heal. And perhaps first and foremost: to make the U-turn in order to look deeply at what is actually going on inside of us.

When I judge another woman as too loud or too much,
can I acknowledge there’s a part in me that needs healing?

When a woman’s self-confidence scares me,
can I recognise my own fears around showing up as a powerful woman?

Can I allow the pain of my own supressed power to surface,
and learn to take care of the underlying shame and grief?

The pain underneath blame

By learning to recognise my own hatred and fear, and by looking deeply into the ways I act from judgment and blame, slowly I can begin to understand myself more fully. Seeing clearly my own pain underneath the judgments, helps me to feel more compassion for myself and others. If I can make a U-turn away from other people’s behaviour into my own inner world, I start to take more responsibility for my reactions instead of blaming or judging another person.

What happens on a micro-level between people, is also what happens on a collective level in society. If we can recognise our own core beliefs and judgments and no longer act from them, we can start to decondition a dynamic of many decades. If we can look into our own minds and hearts with curiosity, clarity and honesty, then a long journey of healing and transformation can begin. If we can be mirrors for one another and dare to have courageous conversations with each other, there is more hope for peace and reconciliation in the future.

If we want peace,
we have to be peace.
Peace is a practice,
not a hope.

~ Thich Nhat Hanh

To be honest, I’m not really a group person. I like spending time by myself and doing my own thing. Being surrounded by other people for longer than a few days, is quite a stretch for me. And yet, I found myself during an entire month in a pop-up community in Bergerac, to learn about ‘Embodying Collective Transformation’. Or as I like to describe it: to learn the art of loving. Deeply grateful for this opportunity to immerse myself in a bath of awareness, honesty, and compassion. It has been one of the most healing and enriching experiences of my life.

(c) Life itself

Loving myself

The greatest gift for me during the residency has been learning how to love deeply and unconditionally. In the first place, to love myself more fully, with all my parts. Learning about IFS (Internal Family Systems) felt like discovering a piece of the puzzle that I didn’t realise was missing. I have been on the path of self-compassion and self-acceptance for a long time, but relating to my inner world through the lens of parts (or inner children) really takes this practice to the next level.

For instance, a part of me that gets easily activated when I’m in a group, is the one that feels very unsafe. The way this usually plays out, is that I withdraw and become silent. I feel anxious about taking up space and so I swallow my words, not allowing myself to be seen. However, in this group I could express the way this part was feeling, and receive genuine care and acceptance from others. This has allowed me to feel a lot more safe and at ease than I usually do in group settings.

And then, what happened after my system could relax more fully into the group? Suddenly other parts had more space to surface, even the ones that I didn’t know existed or I had lost touch with. Completely buried under many years of conditioning. I discovered silly, playful, and loud parts in me. An angry part. And a very wild and fierce feminine part. They so enjoyed to be recognised and expressed. And I so enjoy getting to know them.

Can I welcome all my parts, even the ones I feel uncomfortable with?
Can I allow all of me to be, without exception, and without censoring?

Loving others

Beyond right and wrong
There is a field:
I’ll meet you there.
~ Rumi

I noticed during my stay that the more I dive into myself and make space for all my parts, the more I can allow and accept these parts in others. When I recognise and befriend my wild part, for instance, or my loud and spontaneous part, it is much easier to forgive others when they are loud or wild. Even if I sometimes find it unpleasant or annoying. Acknowledging that the other person has parts that I also have in me – though maybe hidden or still unloved – relaxes me more into opening up and accepting them.

It doesn’t mean that I have to like everybody. It doesn’t even mean that I have to get along with everyone. It simply asks of me to recognise that when I experience irritation or tension, there is actually a part in me that I haven’t reconciled with. That I feel judgmental or upset about. It is an invitation to go inward and embrace all of my parts, without excluding any.

During the residency, I have discovered a path that leads to real inner and outer transformation. By getting to know others more deeply, I can understand myself better. And the more I accept the different parts in myself, the more I feel compassion and love for others. It is a path that requires patience, courage, and a lot of practice, but it also offers a specific way to grow into the direction of non-violence and love together.

I usually write in Dutch, but occasionally I also write articles in English.

For the Wake Up website, for instance, the youth movement in the tradition of Thich Nhat Hanh.

Here is an overview of the articles I wrote for them:

– Mindfully angry: about our longing for authenticity

– Smartphonelessness: tribute to silence in a turbulent world

– Less is more: about consuming the internet more mindfully during Lent

– Celebrating New Year in Plum Village: creating a mindful resolution for the new year

Hope you’ll enjoy them and they may inspire you to live more mindfully.