π Field Note: When the Identity Softens
There is a moment,
right before transformation finds us,
when something begins to loosen inside.
Not dramatically.
Not loudly.
More like a seam quietly giving way
after years of being pulled too tight.
That seam is the identity.
The identity loves its edges β
the familiar shape of who weβve been,
the predictable story we know how to live inside.
But when the next evolution is ready to unfold,
the identity doesnβt get ripped apart.
It softens.
It thaws.
It loses its grip.
It starts with small things:
A reaction you donβt have.
A pattern you suddenly see through.
A habit that feels a little foreign,
like it belongs to someone you no longer are.
The identity dissolves gently
when we stop trying to defend it.
This is the mercy of transformation:
we are never forced out of ourselves.
We are invited.
And when the identity softens,
the Self steps forward β
quiet, grounded, unmistakable.
Not the self you βimprove.β
The Self you remember.
The Self you return to.
The one who is here underneath it all β
steady as breath,
clear as a bell struck in still air.
The one who knows the way.
So I sit here in quiet contemplation,
not forcing change,
not chasing answers β
just noticing the moment
when something in me
softens.
Because thatβs when I know:
the threshold is near.
π Authorβs Note
I wrote this field note in the wake of witnessing (in myself and in the women I walk with) the exact moment transformation begins β not with force, but with a subtle softening.
This piece is a homage to that moment.
The moment the identity loosens.
The moment the Self steps forward without demand.
The moment reinvention stops being an act of will⦠and becomes an act of remembering.
If something in you felt seen here, itβs because you are already in your own softening.
There is nothing to push.
Nothing to accelerate.
Only something deep within you preparing to rise.
This is how the threshold announces itself.
With love and presence,
π Gitanjali
Field Notes from the Threshold
Where the Self begins to speak.
Image Credit: Gitanjali Koppikar, Salt Flats, 2024