When the Old Patterns Travel With Us
There are moments on our journey when we realize that we did not just pack our clothes. We packed our patterns. Our habits. Our old ways of seeing ourselves and the world.
I felt this deeply as we arrived in Costa Rica.
What should have been a simple arrival turned into an unexpected initiation. We could not take the small jumper plane because Rich’s nine foot surfboard was too long. To get his board to where we were going, we had to find another way. At first, it felt like everything was falling apart.
And then grace appeared.
An airline attendant, a true gift from the universe, took it upon himself to help us. he found a taxi van large enough to fit the board and coordinated a completely different route for us. A three hour drive to the ferry. A 90 Minute crossing across the ocean. Another driver waiting on the other side. None of this was planned, yet somehow it all aligned.
What we did not know was that the second driver was delayed by a road closure. As night fell, we found ourselves waiting under a streetlight in the dark, unsure of what was happening. My body was tight. Fear crept in quietly as unfamiliar surroundings and exhaustion took over.
But again, we were not alone.
I had the number of the first driver, who stayed in contact and explained the delay. Another family arrived who were in the same situation and who lived there part time. Angels kept showing up in human form, steadying the moment, reminding me that even when I felt unsafe, support was present.
When the second driver finally arrived, relief washed through me. As we drove along unknown, winding dirt roads, for over an hour, my mind questioned everything. Why did I leave the safety of home. Why did I choose this. And then, suddenly, we saw it. A blue door. Lights on. A quiet welcome.
Home.
That night, I realized how much fear had been stored just beneath the surface, waiting for the unfamiliar to bring it forward.
This is often how healing works.
When we slow down, when routines fall away, when we step outside of what feels controlled and predictable, our inner systems become louder. Old patterns rise. Habitual ways of thinking reassert themselves. The body remembers stories the mind thought were long resolved.
As the days unfolded, I witnessed how easily I still slip into wanting approval. Wanting to be what I imagine someone else wants me to be. Surrounded by youthful beauty and beach energy, an old inner critic came roaring back to life. It spoke through comparison and self judgment, reminding me of every place I have measured myself against standards that were never mine.
No one was doing this to me. These were simply old systems asking to be seen.
At the same time, I was held by the jungle. Monkeys visiting the great tree outside our window. Butterflies, hummingbirds, dragonflies. Hawks circling above. Leaf cutter ants moving with purpose. Shades of green everywhere. I felt Mother Gaia grounding me, holding me, reminding me that I belong.
Nature does not ask us to perform. She does not ask us to be younger or different. She simply receives us as we are.
As we spent time with new people, I noticed another identity loosening its grip. The part of me that once knew how to navigate easy conversation and familiar roles no longer feels true. I am releasing who I was without yet naming who I am becoming. That space can feel awkward and tender, but it is also holy.
I also saw how deeply ingrained relationship patterns can be, especially when both people are evolving. How easy it is to fall back into caretaking, managing, and placing another’s comfort before my own presence. How familiar it is to lose myself in loyalty and responsibility.
And yet, awareness is the doorway to freedom.
Releasing patterns does not mean rejecting our lives or the people in them. It means loosening the grip of who we thought we had to be in order to be loved.
I am learning to love myself beyond the body. Beyond roles. Beyond approval. To honor this physical form while remembering it is only a temporary home for something eternal. To trust that I am here for joy, not endless suffering. For presence, not perfection.
I am one soul among many remembering. One light among many lights. And my role does not need to look like anyone else’s.
As I continue to let go, I choose to trust that everything is unfolding for my highest good. That I am safe, even when fear visits. That I am guided, even when the path feels unfamiliar. That simply showing up with honesty and love is already the work.
Thank you, God, for this precious life. For the unexpected detours that teach surrender. For the angels who appear when we least expect them. And for the grace to keep releasing what no longer serves.
And so it is. Amen.
Rev Rachel
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