Episode 10 — Wholesomeness

 

Part 2 of my Vipassana Integration

This is Part 2 of my Vipassana Integration series.

Part 1 was Equanimity — the week after silence, when life immediately tested whether calm was only a meditation word or something I could practise with no water, no proper toilet, family pain, builders, body signals and ordinary life moving all around me.

This second week carried another word from Vipassana:

Wholesomeness.

At first, that sounds gentle.

Clean food.
Good choices.
Better habits.
Less noise.
More meditation.
Maybe a tidy little spiritual glow.

But life is rarely that neat.

This week taught me that wholesomeness is not about becoming pure, perfect or suddenly disciplined in every area.

For me, it was more honest than that.

Wholesomeness was the question: what am I allowing into my body, my mind, my home, my field, my relationship, my service and my nervous system?

And can I tell the truth about what nourishes me — and what does not?

 

What Nourishes Me

I had to look back at my photos to remember the week properly.

My agenda never tells the whole story. My photos often remember what my mind forgets.

And one theme kept showing up: food.

René and I had been eating out a lot. It seemed that so much of what we did together involved food. Spare ribs. Takumi, which has now become one of our favourite places. Bella Torino, our local pizzeria. These familiar places we keep returning to.

And I want to mention that because it is not random.

Food has become one of our pleasure places.

Yes, eating out can be emotional comfort. I know that.

But it is also joy. Connection. Conversation. A way to land together. A way to celebrate ordinary life when so much else feels under construction.

Takumi especially feels good to me. Ramen noodles, fresh food, beautiful colours, high quality, a full bowl that feels both comforting and alive.

And I noticed something in that.

I do not just want food that fills me.

I want food that feels like life.

In that same week, I saw an ad for biological meat from Grutto. The idea of co-buying part of a cow that had been treated well had been somewhere on my curiosity list for a long time. So I ordered a package.

It felt luxurious to spend money on good food.

Not luxury as in showing off.

Luxury as in: I choose something that feels more aligned with life.

At the same time, René and I also realised we probably would not return to the spare ribs place we had visited before. The first portion had been fine, but the refill had a different energy. It felt like leftovers. Low vibration.

And that may sound dramatic to someone else.

But I know what I mean.

Sometimes the body knows the difference between being fed and being filled.

This is where wholesomeness began for me that week.

Not with a strict diet.

With noticing.

 

The Body Decides to Stop

That same week I finally published the Vipassana blog.

Two weeks after the actual retreat.

I had felt guilty about that. Of course I had. Because some part of me still thinks that if I do not do things “on time,” I am failing.

But looking back now, I can see it more clearly.

Writing that blog was a win.

It was not small.

It was twelve days of silence, pain, memories, body scanning, anicca, equanimity, discernment and integration turned into words.

That is not a quick content task.

That is a whole piece of lived experience being shaped into meaning.

Only after I had done it, my body crashed.

From Wednesday evening into Friday morning, I became ill with a deep migraine. I slept almost the whole day. I was zombified. I could not function.

René came into my dark room with water and paracetamol, and there was something very tender about that. I was not performing. I was not strong. I was not useful. I was just lying there, in the dark, being helped.

And that too was part of wholesomeness.

Because sometimes the wholesome choice is not another action.

Sometimes the wholesome choice is letting the body say:

Enough. Now we stop.

It felt like my system had done the things that needed to be done after Vipassana — tic, tic, tic, tic — and then said: now we recover.

There was something death-and-rebirth-like about it.

Not dramatic in an outward way.

But inside, it felt like another layer of my old self had to go quiet.

The self that keeps pushing.

The self that thinks she is only safe when she is doing.

The self that still needs permission to rest.

Perhaps many of us know that pattern. We finish something important, and instead of celebrating, we immediately look at what is still behind. We do not even notice that our system has been carrying pressure for weeks.

So the body interrupts.

Not as punishment.

As truth.

 

Discernment Is Also Wholesome

At the same time, Vipassana had made me more aware of what I let into my mind.

Before the retreat, I had been watching certain Netflix dating shows. The kind with people from other shows, returning again and again, all caught in drama, seduction, performance and emotional noise.

I know those programmes can be addictive.

But I also know when something is not good for me.

So that week I started changing my algorithms. Unliking things. Choosing less of that. Practising discernment.

Not perfectly.

Even now, five weeks later, I can still feel how easy it is to slip back into series, screens and unconscious watching.

But wholesomeness was not asking me to become rigid.

It was asking me to become more awake.

What am I feeding my mind?
What am I letting enter my field before I sleep?
What am I calling relaxation when it is actually draining me?

That weekend there was also an online Seminar and Rally from Kevin Trudeau. One part was a kind of “Fly on the Wall” look at how he starts his morning and arranges his environment to support focus, efficiency and creative mode.

I found that powerful.

Not because I want to copy someone else’s life.

But because it showed me again that environment matters.

What is around me matters.

The systems I use matter.

The input I choose matters.

Wholesomeness is not only about avoiding what is “bad.”

It is also about deliberately creating conditions that support the person I am becoming.

 

When the Teaching Is Not Lived

Later that week, there was also a GIN local chapter meeting in Amsterdam that week.

I went with people I know and love from that world, and Jojan was there too. I had invited him, and it brought a different energy into the room.

The meeting itself was interesting because there was a certain stiffness. A structure. Segments to go through. Quote of the month. Book of the month. Etiquette of the month. Pieces that can be valuable, but can also become lifeless if they are only read out and not lived.

At one point, someone was reading from a phone for several minutes, barely looking up at the people in the room.

And I could feel the difference immediately.

Information is not the same as embodiment.

You can read the etiquette.

You can repeat the quote.

You can drill the teaching.

But if it does not touch your life, if it does not change how you show up, if it does not make you more present, kind, awake, responsible or honest — then something is missing.

Jojan asked the kind of questions he often asks. Questions that bring a teaching back into real life.

How do you apply this?

Where does this show up?

What does it mean when you are actually living?

That, for me, also belongs to wholesomeness.

A wholesome teaching is not just a teaching that sounds good. It is a teaching that becomes real in the body.

And yes, there was also giggling.

There is something very alive about sitting with people who see the same things, who feel the same stiffness, who can quietly poke at the energy of the room and still love the process.

Not everything spiritual has to be serious.

Sometimes laughter is the most honest thing in the room.

 

Coming Back Into Visibility

Around that time, I also received the Pussy Oracle deck from Cindy Stal.

I had ordered it because it had been mentioned by a friend and came back into my mind. When it arrived, I started offering little card readings on Facebook.

That felt good.

Small visibility.

Not a big launch. Not a strategy. Just a doorway.

“Would you like a card?”

And people responded.

At the same time, I noticed that something was wrong in the deck. One of the cards had the wrong text, and later it turned out there were two cards that needed correction.

I contacted Tarot.nl. Then I contacted the creator.

And I noticed something in myself.

I was not willing to accept faulty energy in a deck.

That may sound small, but it felt important.

I did not just shrug and say, “Oh well.” I checked. I spoke up. I sent the photos. I followed the thread until it was acknowledged.

That felt whole.

Not aggressive.

Not dramatic.

Just correct.

And I think that is another part of wholesomeness: being willing to notice when something is off, and not abandoning yourself in the name of politeness.

Interestingly, the same pattern showed up with my home.

There were still builders, noise, drilling, hammering, clanging, voices, outside structures, and constant disruption around the flat. The window frames that were supposed to be replaced that week were delayed until the first of September.

In one way, that was a relief. I did not have to empty my beautiful balcony yet.

In another way, it also meant the renovation process would stretch out longer.

Then there were questions about radiators, window frames, the balcony and whether the timing made sense for the people living in the flats. So I reached out. I asked questions. I tried to bring coherence into a process that did not feel coherent.

Eventually, they paused part of the procedure for a while.

Again, that felt like me sticking up for myself.

Not fighting.

Aligning.

And that is a difference I am learning to respect.

 

The Customer Journey and My Own

Underneath all of this, Goddess Creations was moving in me again.

I was thinking about my customer journey. How to make what I offer clearer. How to turn what I do into more of a whole. A pathway. A structure. A body of service that people can understand and enter.

There were night visions.

There were notes.

There were ideas.

There was the feeling that something deeper wanted to organise itself.

And yet, even as I say that, I know that two weeks later things would shift again. That is the strange thing about writing this with hindsight. I am speaking about the week of Wholesomeness while knowing that Anicca — Change — was already waiting.

Still, this week mattered.

Because I was trying to ask:

What is the wholesome way to serve?

Not the cleverest way.

Not the most impressive way.

Not the way that proves I am finally “back.”

But the way that is true, clear, nourishing and sustainable.

I also supported someone in the GIN world around attracting a partner. I shared how I had used a process from Ask and It Is Given to manifest both my home and my relationship with René.

The process is simple, but powerful.

You write what you want.

Then you write why you want it.

And you keep reaching for the reasons that make you feel alive, juicy, happy, open, turned on by your dream.

Not desperate.

Not bargaining.

Just aligned.

When I look back at what I once wrote about the partner I wanted, René ticks so many of those things.

That still amazes me.

And while I was sharing that with someone else, I realised I may need to use that process again for myself — for Goddess Creations, for my service, for the next structure of my life.

Sometimes we teach what we also need to remember.

 

Boundaries, Loyalty and Love

On a more private level, there was also a private process around my relationship with René.

I will not unpack all of it here, because not everything belongs in a public blog.

But I will say this: it had to do with boundaries, loyalty, shadows and the difference between being tempted by a shiny object and being clear about what I truly choose.

It had that “Blue Vase” energy from The Go-Getter.

A test, perhaps.

A mirror.

A moment where life asks: will you be distracted, or will you become more precise?

For René and me, it brought depth.

Not because it was easy.

But because it asked us both to look more honestly.

Where are our shadows?

Where are our assumptions?

Where are the places we need to own the relationship more consciously?

Wholesomeness here did not mean avoiding temptation, complexity or discomfort.

It meant bringing light into the places where things could otherwise remain vague.

And that matters.

Because love is not only softness.

Sometimes love is clarity.

 

A Voicemail That Arrived Weeks Late

Near the end of the week, something happened that touched me more than I expected.

For some reason, Vodafone only then notified me that I had missed calls and voicemail messages from the 21st of May, while I was still at Vipassana. One of those messages was from my younger brother.

He had tried to reach me.

Of course, I had not known. I was in silence. My phone was away. Life was happening outside the retreat, and I was not available in the normal way.

When I eventually spoke to him, the conversation itself was important, but what stayed with me most was the feeling underneath it.

He had reached out to me.

He had wanted to speak to me.

He had needed his elder sister.

And after the heartbreak of the week before, where another family bond had brought rejection and deep pain, this landed in a very tender place.

It did not erase the other pain. It did not magically fix anything.

But it did show me another truth.

In one place, I had felt unwanted. Here, I felt needed. In one place, I had felt pushed away. Here, I was being reached for.

That contrast mattered.

It made me feel seen in a part of myself that had been aching. Not in a loud way. Not as a big healing moment with violins in the background. Just quietly, as if life was reminding me:

you are not only rejected.

You are also loved, trusted, remembered and needed.

And that felt wholesome.

Not because it solved the family story.

But because it gave my heart another piece of evidence.

 

What Wholesomeness Asked of Me

So when I look back at the second week after Vipassana, I understand why the word was Wholesomeness.

Not because the week was clean, calm or perfectly balanced.

It was not.

Wholesomeness showed up in the food: the ramen, the biological meat, and the quiet decision not to return to places that felt low in my body. It showed up in the migraine too, in the dark room, in René bringing me water and paracetamol, and in my body saying very clearly: enough now, we stop.

At the same time, it showed up in less obvious places.

In the Netflix algorithms I wanted to change.
In the home renovation emails I finally responded to.
In the oracle cards that did not feel energetically correct.
In the small Facebook readings that brought me gently back into visibility.
In the GIN meeting where I could feel the difference between repeating a teaching and actually living it.

And underneath all of that, it showed up in boundaries.

In loyalty.
In my customer journey.
In service.
In money awareness.
In pink nails.
In a brother’s delayed voicemail that somehow arrived at exactly the moment my heart needed to feel seen.

So no, it was not one clean theme.

It was more like a field of choices.

Again and again, the week seemed to ask me: does this nourish me, or does this drain me? Does this feel true, or am I overriding myself? Does this help me become more whole, or does it pull me away from my own centre?

And I did not always answer perfectly.

But I did start listening differently.

That may be enough for now.

Wholesomeness was not about becoming a better version of myself overnight.

It was about noticing what helps me stay in relationship with myself — with my body, my love, my home, my service, my boundaries, my dreams, my energy and my future.

And as I write this now, five weeks later, I can see that this week was already preparing me for the next word.

Anicca.

Change.

Which, to be honest, made me nervous.

Because if Equanimity had tested my steadiness, and Wholesomeness had tested my discernment, then Change was probably not going to stay theoretical either.

This is Part 2 of my Vipassana Integration series.

Part 1: Equanimity
Part 3: Anicca / Change — coming soon

If this reflection stirred something in you — especially around boundaries, energy, self-judgement, emotional overwhelm or the question of what truly nourishes you — my free 5 Human Clouds guide may be a gentle place to begin.

And if you feel you would rather explore your own pattern with personal support, you are welcome to book a Discovery Call.