Walking the Way of the Ankh

Every so often you are offered a day that has nothing to do with the rest of your life. No inbox, no school run, no role to perform. I recently took part in a Way of the Ankh course, and that is exactly what it was — a chance to step out of the everyday and meet myself again, without the labels.

So much of midlife is spent answering to names: mother, partner, founder, practitioner, the one who holds it together. The invitation that day was different. Arrive as a human being. Not a CV, not a story, not a diagnosis. Just a person, willing to be present.

We learned about the ankh — the ancient Egyptian symbol of life — and what it asks of those who walk it. We were taught new grounding practices, simple but startlingly effective ways of sending the busy mind back down into the body, into the soles of the feet, into the breath. The kind of practices that you can quietly carry into a kitchen, a meeting, a sleepless 3am.

And then there was the sound. Enveloped in the steady heartbeat of a shamanic drum, time loosened its grip. The thinking softened. What was left underneath was warmer and steadier than I expected — a kind of quiet confidence I do not always remember I have.

At the end of the day, I walked the ankh. The image with this post is the one I walked: copper tape, candlelight, crystals at the threshold. Each step asked a question. Each step gave something back.

I left with no grand announcement, no new label to wear. Just the reminder that underneath all of it is a genuine, empowered human being — and that she can be reached on purpose, with practice, with breath, with stillness. That is the work I bring to Manipura Empowered Pause.