All My Truths & One Lie

Chapter 1: Finally

I run my fingertips over the pink velvet petals of the flowers that line the garden path. The early morning dew transfers onto my fingers as I trace the sage-colored leaves. I stare up, squinting my eyes before closing them all together. The sun rays paint a smile on my face. Behind my eyelids, I collect tears of gratitude like I collect used books.

It has taken me some time to get here, but here I am, in the place I was born to be in. Here I am living my purpose.

I wrap my coat around me as a shiver travels through me. Spring has just begun, and the mornings are chillier than I’m accustomed to. I look back at the unfamiliar flower. The inside of the petals has a darker shade of lines that design them like the chaotic highways I left behind.

No.

Nothing here screams chaos like the angry words I left behind from strangers insulting each other because their egos controlled their hearts.

In this place, hearts outshine egos. The energy that swirls around the stone walls penetrates even the toughest rock. I wipe my cheek and move on to another flower while the birds sing a song of joy above my head.

I haven’t been living here for long, and on the first day, the fear that used to rule me tried to cripple my will. But I remained firm in what I knew was right for me and faced the self-doubt like a goddess instead of a victim. One look at the late night sky reminded me that I didn’t leave behind anything of value. Instead, this change added value to my existence. What I left was part of the journey that always meant to lead me here.

I check the time on my watch when I notice the sun is higher in the sky and leave behind the flowers that I enjoy daily. I inhale the scent of fireplaces burning around me. A reminder that it is still my favorite time of year. Fortunately, the rain has subsided a bit this week, allowing me to take my time as I walk to work.

Work.

I don’t even consider it work. When you are living your passion, the term “work” becomes irrelevant.

Stopping at a crosswalk, I undo the buttons of my coat and allow the chill to cool me from the walk. On the ground, I see a small white feather. Grinning, I squat and pick it up. There was a time I would cringe at the idea of holding a feather, but now I see them as signs from the universe that I’m on track. A way for the angels to speak to me.

I pocket the feather in my coat and cross the street that leads to the office. Some days I question how this became my life. What did I do to deserve it? Then, that same day, I’ll have a client that comes to me with lack of self-worth, and I find myself guiding her and myself out of the hole of doubt and worthlessness into the light of self-love.

One of my ongoing lessons—I’m worthy. Worthy of life, love, abundance, prosperity.

Living in a world that easily disregards our value if we’re not pretty enough, skinny enough, fashionable, it’s easy to forget that worth comes from a place beyond the material dimension of this earth.

I agreed to no longer live in the density that weighs me down and drowns me into a sea of judgment, anger, and resentment. That no longer has a place in my life, if I choose to move forward with a life I’ve always dreamed of.

It’s time I no longer hide behind a veil of pretending and own who I am, show the world the magic within me and all around us instead of hiding for fear of being unaccepted. Truth is, people will judge you regardless. It’s in our nature as humans to do so. Therefore, I’ve decided to step into the light, remove masks and limitations that cause us to blend in when we should all truly stand out for our own individuality.

“Good morning, Navia.”

I smile and pull the feather from my pocket before removing my coat and hanging it on the hook by the door. I move further into the room where Makenna is sitting on the couch, stirring her tea. I place the feather in the white, ceramic bowl on the side table housing all the other feathers I have found on my way here.

“Morning,” I smile and sit on the chair opposite her. She eyes the bowl and shakes her head. “They don’t disturb you.”

“They don’t.” She sets her tea on the table and pauses, smiling at my quirk.

I’ve only known Makenna for a short time, but I can read her, and I’m aware when she’s at ease and when she’s overwhelmed. When we met in the small café, I was fascinated by her approach to life. And her accent, I’ve always been fond of the accent.

We talked for a few hours, realizing we both had similar interests and experiences. My usually guarded stance was immediately removed when the older woman smiled and threw out a British joke I didn’t understand.

What I thought was a mindless decision on her part turned out to be a real offer—work with her where she provides holistic services. I agreed to start the next day, showing up at work and realizing it’s everything I ever dreamed of for myself. A place full of balanced energy, woodsy incense, and pale walls, I’ve been using it as my office since then.

“Are you excited about today?”

I nod. “I am. A bit nervous, too, but I’m ready.”

“You are.” Makenna smiles, the wrinkles framing her eyes a sign of wisdom. “How’s the book coming along?”

I shrug. “Slowly.” The book.

“Patience. Remember, slow and steady wins the race. This isn’t like anything else you’ve written before. Be easy on yourself and allow the creativity and wisdom to flow.”

“I am,” I smirk. I was up late last night working on just that. After meditating, I took to my laptop to allow the inspiration to move through me. I know this book is different than those I’ve published before, and I am aware that being here will also open those gates that have been begging to be flung wide so I can burst through them.

“At what time does your first client arrive?” Makenna breaks my thoughts. I check the time on my phone.

“In fifteen minutes.” I leap from my seat and rush to my small office. It’s perfect—cozy and warm. I light the pine candle on the wooden, hexagon side table and play the “Gayatri Mantra” from my laptop. Taking a few moments to center myself, I close my eyes and inhale deeply before exhaling to the same count. My breathing soothes me.

I then grab the file with my client’s name and prepare for her arrival. It’s been a few years since I became a certified life coach, yet I continued to put it aside. Something was missing. Now, I am complete. With a variety of tools to truly help guide people, I can offer them the best I have.

As soon as I hear voices in the small entrance, I step out to greet my client. Leading her into the office, I work with her on releasing judgment and realizing her worth.

“You did great today,” Makenna smiles as she locks the door behind her. “This modality will be a great tool.”

“Thanks. It did turn out great. And a lot more people came than I expected.” I smile and widen my eyes.

When I mentioned to Makenna that I wanted to offer a group session to guide people in reaching the root of their personal challenges and limitations, she rapidly agreed and encouraged me. We organized it all in one week, and the last thing I expected was to have over twelve people show up.

I walk into the crisp evening and watch as the sun sinks in the distance. I pause and look around. The town is active, and my heart flutters at the scene of people walking about.

Lifting my bag onto my shoulder, I make a right and decide to write in a small pub instead of at home. A change in scenery will be good for my inspiration. I hope.

Dim lighting and sweet aroma wrap me up as I walk into the pub. I’d trade writing at Starbucks for a place like this any day. I sit with my laptop opened, skipping the beer choices and ordering a coffee, determined to focus. Bringing my phone to life, I open to the image I’m using for this chapter.

My eyes close and I feel the breeze of the day swooshing over my skin and the tie I feel to a place like that. Peace and gratitude. It was then that I made the final decision to make a change. The image reflects so much light and serenity, exactly what I need to inspire this book.

I begin typing and deleting. I sip my coffee, blowing the rising steam from the mug. I type again. More deleting.

I sigh and stare at the picture. What did I feel there? As if an image would communicate a message to me. I inhale and exhale expectations, my mind is overworking this project. Let it be that I decide to finally do this after the months and years of waiting, and I freak.

Self-sabotage at its finest, ladies and gentlemen.

I roll my eyes at my own obnoxious thoughts and look away from the screen. Too much pressure. Too many expectations when it comes to this book. I need to release it all.

Pretending it’s journaling just for myself, I slowly begin writing. Memories of the Celtic site provide a comforting mood as I close my eyes and type what I recall.

I blink a few times to regain focus. Looking from my empty cup to the people around me, I’m jolted to a stop. A warm smile and eyes find me and my heartbeat kicks into overdrive. I tilt my head, gazing at the familiarity in him.

If I told my friends this, they’d all think I’ve lost my mind. That’s partly the reason I keep things to myself. It’s also why I am no longer friends with half the people I used to be.

Blue Eyes is now amused, and I realize I’ve been staring at him while trailing off into my mind. I offer a tight-lipped smile and look down.

“Hi.” A deep voice pulls my gaze up.

I smile. “Hi.”

He takes a seat without asking and leans forward on the table. “I’m Matthias.”

“I’m Navia,” I reply. “Nice meeting you.”

“Lovely to meet you. American, huh?” I nod. “What brought you across the pond to our town?”

“Adventure,” I shrug. And you, I keep this to myself. I wonder if he feels it, too—the tug that pulls us, the invisible chord that has bonded us since the beginning. I’m crazy. What if this isn’t him?

I look into the smiling eyes and sigh. It must be.

“Adventure,” he repeats, tossing the idea around. “What kind of adventure?”

“A change in scenery and energy. Something that would take me closer to my purpose in life.”

“Has it worked?”

I nod. “So far.” I close my laptop.

“Were you working?”

“Kinda. No real progress, though.”

He tilts his head and looks at me, a smile sneaking up on his face. “Maybe you need the proper motivation.”

I smirk and nod.

We both turn our heads when we hear his name being called.

“Sorry about that. My mates are pissed already. We’re celebrating James’ birthday. The blond.” He points to one of the men.

“Drunk, right?”

Matthias c***s an eyebrow and smirks. “Familiar with British talk?”

“Not much. I lived in Spain a few years back and worked with British English in a secondary school. Learned a thing or two. Mostly, I have an infatuation with the accent.”

“Whereabout in Spain?”

“Leon. North of Madrid.”

“I know of it. Spain is beautiful.”

I nod. “I love it. My family is from there.”

“And you chose to live in gloomy England instead?”

“Winter in Spain is gloomy, too. Northwest. This reminds me of it.”

When they call out his name again, he shakes his head and looks at me. “I better get back and make sure they don’t cause any trouble. Can I borrow your mobile?”

I scrunch my eyebrows but hand it over.

“Great. I’ve just sent myself a message. Now you’ve got my number, and I’ve got yours. I’ll be calling you, Navia,” he promises with a gleam in his eyes.

“Okay.” I look up at him, a calming sense washing over me.

“Very soon.”

I watch him return to his friends, one of them slurring something about me and open my laptop again.

Matthias.

His blue eyes are a beautiful contrast to his dark hair. I feel a familiar tug, a knowingness in my core of another time with the same eyes.

I knew he’d be here. Or someone like him. I didn’t have a name or face, but I had a feeling. I had a soul connection to him. Seeing him, meeting him, stirs so much.

I sound crazy.

But I know it’s the truth. A truth many don’t understand or believe in, but we’re all tied to another person, beyond soulmates. The invisible cord that weaves our past and present.

With renewed inspiration, I type the words I’d held captive for too long.