Unraveling the Coil: A Ribbon of Light for Beybi Girl

Unraveling the Coil

A Ribbon of Light for Beybi Girl

by: Julie Quizon

When Everything You've Dreamed Of Starts Growing At Once

Last night was a full moon.

Whether you believe in the spiritual significance of it or simply appreciate the beauty of seeing the moon glow over the lake, there is something about a full moon that illuminates things we haven't fully seen before.

This week, I found myself standing in the middle of a whirlwind.

Not a bad whirlwind.

A beautiful whirlwind.

The kind that happens when life starts moving.

The kind that happens when dreams you've carried for years begin taking shape all at once.

And strangely enough, it scared me.

I had just written a blog about how order creates safety.

Then suddenly, I found myself overwhelmed.

The irony wasn't lost on me.

As a highly sensitive person—or perhaps what I am now calling a Highly Sensory in Nature soul—I experience life deeply.

I don't just think about things.

I feel them.

I feel excitement deeply.

I feel inspiration deeply.

I feel possibility deeply.

And sometimes, I feel overwhelm deeply too.

This week I was helping establish a new branch for the Ladies of Saugeen Shores.

A project I have dreamed about for a long time.

I was organizing membership records.

Following proper procedures.

Creating structure.

Building foundations.

The things that must happen before the exciting things can happen.

The invisible work.

The important work.

The work that creates safety.

At the same time, I was working on my businesses.

My creative projects.

My wellness vision.

My music.

My healing frequencies.

My blog.

My skincare ideas.

My wellness products.

My website.

My future.

Everything felt as though it was bubbling to the surface at once.

And then that familiar feeling arrived.

"Oh no."

"Here we go again."

"What if I can't keep this going?"

"What if I abandon it?"

"What if I start all of these beautiful things and never finish them?"

I know that feeling.

So i feel that when i was in this whirlwind of emotions

The chaotic emotions arises

And its like never ending

And it stays with you

And Chaos becomes your masterpiece

Many dreamers know that feeling.

Many creators know that feeling.

Many sensitive souls know that feeling.

The fear isn't failure.

The fear is disappearing from your own dream.

The fear is abandoning yourself again.

I have done that before.

I have had beautiful ideas.

Exciting visions.

Inspiring projects.

And then life happened.

Work happened.

Exhaustion happened.

Responsibilities happened.

And slowly, the dream would be placed back on the shelf.

Not because it wasn't important.

But because I was tired.

This week I realized something important.

I am not tired because I am failing.

I am tired because I have been carrying too much.

There is a difference.

One requires giving up.

The other requires reorganization.

One requires abandoning the dream.

The other requires adjusting how I hold it.

That realization changed everything.

I delegated.

I trusted others.

I allowed people to help.

I finalized parts of the branching process.

I focused on establishing the brand.

I completed some of the hardest pieces.

And suddenly I could breathe again.

The knot wasn't broken.

The knot simply needed unraveling.

Slowly.

Patiently.

Gently.

Like loosening a coil instead of cutting the rope.

And that's when another realization arrived.

I don't need ten websites.

I don't need ten businesses.

I don't need ten different versions of myself.

Not yet.

Right now, I need one home.

One place.

One archive.

One living library.

A place where all of me can exist together.

The nurse.

The therapist.

The writer.

The mystic.

The mother.

The entrepreneur.

The creative director.

The musician.

The dreamer.

The woman who loves wellness.

The woman who loves beauty.

The woman who loves healing.

The woman who loves art.

The woman who loves people.

The woman who loves life.

That place is Julie Quizon.

Not a company.

Not a title.

Not a brand strategy.

Just me.

My website doesn't need to be a business.

It can be an expression.

A collection.

A living archive.

A digital home where every piece of my work can breathe.

Maybe one day some of those branches will become separate trees.

Perhaps TheraMuse will have its own website.

Perhaps other projects will become their own businesses.

But right now, I don't need to separate myself into compartments.

I need to bring myself home.

And then I remembered something someone once said to me.

"Julie, you have a very special soul."

For years, I struggled to believe those words.

Not because they weren't true.

But because I was always busy building things.

Busy surviving.

Busy helping everyone else.

Busy proving myself.

Yet lately, something unexpected has happened.

People have started reflecting my gifts back to me.

They tell me they want to try my organic skincare.

They want to wear my bamboo clothing.

They want to listen to my music.

They want to join my drum circles.

They want to dance.

They want to attend workshops.

They want to read my blogs.

They want to collaborate.

They want to create.

They want to heal.

They want to feel alive again.

For a long time, I thought I needed permission to share my gifts.

Now I realize I only needed courage.

And courage isn't the absence of fear.

Courage is creating anyway.

I recently listened to a designer talking about her business journey.

She failed many times.

Started over many times.

Reinvented herself many times.

Yet one sentence stayed with me.

She said she would rather fail many times than allow her creations to never see the light of day.

That sentence landed in my heart.

Because the greatest tragedy isn't trying and failing.

The greatest tragedy is hiding.

Keeping your songs inside you.

Keeping your art inside you.

Keeping your ideas inside you.

Keeping your gifts inside you.

Keeping your voice inside you.

And then one final realization arrived.

The little girl inside me was never asking for perfection.

She was asking for protection.

She wanted to know someone was there.

Someone strong enough to hold the vision.

Someone brave enough to continue.

Someone willing to believe.

And for the first time, I realized that person is me.

So today I sat quietly and spoke to her.

I said:

"It's okay, little girl."

"I've got you."

"I'm here now."

"You don't have to carry this alone anymore."

"You are beautiful."

"You are creative."

"You are enough."

"You don't need to prove your worth."

"You don't need to earn your place."

"You belong here."

"We are safe."

"We are capable."

"We are ready."

"And no matter what happens, I won't abandon you."

Then I felt tears in my eyes.

Not because I was sad.

But because I finally understood something.

For most of my life, I have been my own cheerleader.

The one who kept believing.

The one who kept dreaming.

The one who kept getting back up.

The one who kept seeing possibilities.

And perhaps that wasn't loneliness.

Perhaps that was strength.

The little girl who believed in magic grew up.

And now she has an adult version of herself standing beside her.

The dream is no longer being carried by a child.

The dream is being carried by a woman.

A woman who has survived.

A woman who has learned.

A woman who has built.

A woman who has loved.

A woman who has fallen and risen again.

A woman who knows that overwhelm is not the end.

Sometimes overwhelm is simply evidence that life is expanding.

So when I feel overwhelmed again, I want to remember this:

Nothing is falling apart.

Everything is coming together.

The coil is not broken.

It is simply waiting to be unraveled.

One gentle strand at a time.

So I remind my Beybi girl

"The coil is not broken.

It is simply waiting to be unraveled.

One gentle strand at a time."

The coil is untangled

It's a "Ribbon of Light"

TheraMuse

Ribbon of Light

For Beybi Girl

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2nrWXyhbNds

Dedicated to the little girl who never stopped believing, and the woman who finally came back to walk beside her.