Episode 11 — Anicca / Change

Whether I Was Ready or Not

 

Part 3 of my Vipassana Integration

This is Part 3 of my Vipassana Integration series.

Part 1 was Equanimity.
Part 2 was Wholesomeness.
And this is the week where the third word from Vipassana began to show itself in real life:

Anicca.

Change.

At Vipassana, Anicca is not only something you understand with the mind. You feel it in the body. A sensation arises, stays for a moment, shifts, disappears, returns, changes shape, changes intensity.

Nothing stays exactly the same.

Not pain. Not pleasure. Not clarity. Not fear. Not even the version of yourself you were holding onto five minutes ago.

By the third week after Vipassana, I could feel that this word was no longer sitting quietly on a meditation cushion. It had entered my relationship, my home, my business, my body, my money decisions, my family line and my sense of identity.

And perhaps that is the part many of us recognise.

We say we want change. We ask for growth, clarity, healing, expansion, love, success or freedom. But when change actually starts moving through the structures of our life, it rarely feels neat.

Sometimes it feels exciting.

Sometimes it feels like grief.

Sometimes it feels like a storm.

And sometimes it looks like realising that the thing you called freedom may also have been protection.

This is a longer reflection, because this was not a simple week. You can read it slowly, or let the headings guide you to the part that speaks to you.

When Change Enters Love

The week began with something very intimate and very real in my relationship with René.

I will not share every detail, because not everything that is sacred belongs in public. But I can share the pattern, because I think this is where many of us may recognise ourselves.

A situation arose that became a mirror for both of us. It confronted us with our boundaries, our expectations, our fears, our old wounds and the question of what commitment actually means when it is no longer just a romantic word.

For me, it touched an old pattern around freedom.

At the beginning of our relationship, I had said certain things about not wanting to be boxed in. At the time, that felt honest. And part of it was honest.

But during this week, I saw another layer underneath it.

Sometimes what we call freedom is not always freedom.

Sometimes it is protection.

Sometimes it is the little escape door we keep open so we do not have to feel trapped. Sometimes it is the sentence we say early — “I told you this from the beginning” — so that later, if things become painful, we can point back to the contract instead of feeling the full vulnerability of the love.

That was confronting to see in myself.

Because I could feel how part of me had used that kind of pre-warning as a shield. A way to avoid guilt. A way to avoid being fully responsible for the impact of my choices. A way to avoid the terror of putting love first and then possibly being hurt, disappointed or betrayed again.

René had his own version of holding back too.

Different shape. Similar wound.

At one point, we both recognised something like fifteen percent of ourselves that was not fully available. It sounds precise, maybe even strange, but emotionally it made sense to both of us.

There was still a part of each of us holding onto an old defence.

The conversation was painful. At one point, it felt almost like an ultimatum. For about a day, we were out of connection, and we could both feel it.

That was the part that hurt.

Not shouting. Not drama. Just the absence of the natural warmth between us.

It felt like grief.

Because underneath the disagreement, there was the deeper question: are we protecting our old wounds, or are we choosing this relationship now?

I remember using the image of a closed hand. If I keep holding tightly to my perceived freedom, my old rules, my old protections and my old fears, then my hand is not open. Not open to release. Not open to receive. Not open to the relationship I actually desire.

That was a big moment for me.

It meant I had to look at the shadow of commitment. The fear of putting love first. The fear created by broken agreements in the past. The residue of old pain, family patterns, marriage, disappointment, divorce and the places where love once did not feel safe enough to fully trust.

And yet, something changed.

Not in a fairy-tale way.

In a conscious way.

René and I had to look at each other more honestly and ask: what are we choosing now?

Not what did we say at the beginning. Not what protection did we build years ago. Not what old wound still wants to be in charge.

But what are we choosing now?

That is where Anicca became real.

Because change is not always about leaving.

Sometimes change is about staying differently.

Reliability in the Small Things

Later that week, I went to volunteer at the library of my son’s school.

I had originally arranged a replacement because I thought the work on my window frames would be happening that day. But since that work had been delayed, I was free after all, so I went in.

When I arrived, the woman who had come to replace me was already there. She had not expected me, and immediately the energy became uncomfortable.

On her screen, she was looking at holiday bookings.

Now, I am not saying this as a moral judgement on her as a person. But I noticed something very strongly in myself.

When I am there, I am there.

I tidy the books. I check whether everything is complete. I put things in alphabetical order. I give my attention to the place I said I would serve.

There is something almost beautifully autistic in the way I approach that task. If I have committed to being there, I want to actually be there. Fully. Clearly. Reliably.

And in that moment, I could feel how much honesty and reliability matter to me.

Not only in school libraries.

In relationships. In business. In service. In the way we handle energy, time and trust.

Eventually, she left and I continued the work. It was not a huge moment from the outside, but internally it connected to the bigger theme of the week.

What do we do with commitment?

Do we show up where we said we would show up?

Do we bring our whole self, or do we only occupy the chair while our attention is somewhere else?

That question followed me into the rest of the week.

The Butterfly Still Has to Recover

At the same time, I was still integrating Vipassana.

And I was still feeling guilty that I had not kept up with the blogs.

Guilt shows up a lot for me. It often comes when I expect more of myself than my body, mind or nervous system can deliver in that moment. When I am tired, processing, changing, grieving, or moving through some form of death and rebirth, part of me still says: you should be further.

But this week gave me a different image.

The butterfly.

People often talk about the butterfly as if transformation is only beautiful. Cocoon, wings, colours, freedom.

But the butterfly has to fight its way out.

It takes effort to come through that small opening. And once it is out, it does not immediately fly away in glory. It spends time drying its wings. Recovering. Adjusting. Becoming strong enough to move in its new form.

That helped me soften towards myself.

Because maybe I was not failing to follow through.

Maybe I was still drying my wings.

Even now, writing this with hindsight, I can see how much was changing. My relationship was changing. My home was changing. My business vision was changing. My commitments were changing. My sense of what I was available for was changing.

So yes, I still wanted to complete the blogs.

And yes, follow-through matters to me.

But I also needed compassion for the fact that change is not only the decision. Change is also the recovery period after the decision.

Building the Next Structure

Underneath the emotional layers, Goddess Creations was also moving.

I was thinking deeply about structure, legacy and customer journey.

What does my client actually want? How can I make the pathway clearer? Do I need higher prices, better packages, stronger boundaries, a more precise journey? How do I value my time, energy, depth and service more honestly?

I had been inspired by a friend’s writing about raising her prices unapologetically and valuing what she brings. That stirred something in me.

Not in the sense of copying her.

More in the sense of recognising that if I want to build something sustainable, I cannot keep treating my own depth as if it is casual.

I was also looking again at the “Choose Your Own Adventure” energy that has always fascinated me. I love the idea that people can enter Goddess Creations in a way that feels alive and personal, while still being held by a clear pathway.

Then I remembered the book C.H.A.M.P.I.O.N.S., where I had written a chapter years ago. That project did not unfold the way it should have, and there is still a strange story around it. But my name is there. My chapter exists. My voice has been part of something bigger before.

So I began wondering whether pieces of that content could be brought back into this new unit of time.

Not as a copy-paste from the past.

As a reclamation.

Because change is not always about throwing the old away. Sometimes it is about seeing what was never fully used, and asking whether it now belongs somewhere new.

Meanwhile, René was also changing something in his own business.

He was working on an advertisement for The Rewind Club and Picapoint. We used ChatGPT as part of the creative process, and something unexpected happened: the visual direction that came out felt so aligned that René immediately recognised it as a possible new direction for his own branding.

After fifteen years, he began rebranding his company.

Seeing that happen so quickly reminded me that change is not always slow. Sometimes something clicks, and the old identity simply no longer fits.

Noise, Heat and More Letting Go

Of course, all of this inner change was happening while my physical environment was still full of disruption.

There was heat. There was tiredness. There was poor sleep. There were building sounds, clanging steel frames, lifts going up and down outside the flat, and the continuing renovation process around my home.

I also had to empty the storage space because asbestos work would be happening the following week. That meant sorting, carrying, deciding, letting go and dealing with practical chaos in the heat.

There were not enough containers for rubbish and unwanted things, so even the clearing did not feel clean. It was messy. Physical. Irritating. Necessary.

And again, there was Anicca.

Old things leaving.

Spaces being emptied.

Structures being opened.

Paint that may no longer match. Walls that may need to be redone. A home being roughed up in ways I had not chosen, but somehow had to move with.

Part of me felt anxious about that.

Another part of me started to wonder whether this could also be the beginning of something new.

Because sometimes the old paint has to be surrendered.

Even when you liked it.

Millionaire Mind in a New Unit of Time

At the end of the week, I went to the Millionaire Mind Intensive in Utrecht.

I had been before, in January 2020, just before COVID fully entered our awareness. Looking back, I became very ill afterwards, and I now wonder whether that may already have been COVID. At the time, I did not know. I only remember being in bed for two weeks, feeling like I was dying and, strangely, also feeling a kind of surrender because for once I did not have to keep everything running.

Then lockdown came in March, right after I had held my own Ground Your Crown retreat.

So the 2020 integration of Millionaire Mind never really happened for me. Life changed too dramatically. The world changed too dramatically.

This time was different.

I felt ready to return in a new unit of time.

Not because I wanted a motivational weekend.

Because I knew I was at a threshold with Goddess Creations, money, leadership, visibility and follow-through.

I had pre-booked the Stayokay in Bunnik and arranged parking near Hoog Catharijne. I thought I had pre-paved the practical side well.

And in many ways, I had.

But the Stayokay experience was rougher than expected.

The main building was closed, so I stayed in the hostel area, sharing a room with several women. When I arrived after the first day, there was not enough staff available, and after accidentally leaving my key in the room, I had to wait and wait before I could get back in.

Then a storm came.

Heavy rain. Broken twigs and branches. That feeling of being tired, exposed and just needing to get to your bed.

By the time I made it back, I was soaked through.

So that was also a change.

A decision.

From now on, I can choose differently. I can pay for a hotel. I can honour the fact that hostel energy does not suit me anymore. That is not snobbish. That is self-knowledge.

Still, in between the rough edges, there were beautiful moments. One evening I managed to have a lovely salad at Theehuis Rhijnauwen just before they closed. Another evening, after I had already decided to sign up for Quantum Leap, the team shared some of their meal with me so I did not have to go back to the Stayokay at that moment.

That felt generous.

And it also showed me again that support can appear in practical, simple ways.

The Decision That Changed the Field

I did not go to Millionaire Mind Intensive with the conscious intention to buy something.

René suspected I would.

And if I am honest, perhaps part of me knew too.

Because if what was offered was aligned with the growth I desire for myself and Goddess Creations, then it would not be “just another seminar.” It would be a next step.

The energy of the team was beautiful. I felt welcomed by people from Success Resources, and I enjoyed being in conversation with them. Yes, it is their job. But it also felt authentic.

I was immersed.

I upgraded my booklet so I could write proper notes, and I filled the whole thing. I was not only receiving the content; I was watching the structure, the selling, the timing, the way the programmes were introduced, the way desire was built and clarified.

I was learning on many levels.

By day two, I had already decided.

I signed up for Quantum Leap.

That includes the larger pathway of trainings: Train the Trainer, Guerrilla Business Intensive, Never Work Again and Enlightened Warrior Camp.

It was a big decision.

A very big decision.

And even as I made it, I knew that the week after would probably bring the “what have I done?” moment.

But in the week of Anicca, the decision itself was change.

A line crossed.

A new identity beginning to form.

Not just someone who dreams about expansion.

Someone who invests in becoming able to hold it.

The Living Years

On the Sunday morning, I drove from the Stayokay to the training location.

In the car, the song The Living Years by Mike + The Mechanics came on.

Immediately, I remembered that this song had been part of the Millionaire Mind Intensive when I attended six years earlier. And because it came on that morning, I had the strong sense that it would probably appear in the programme again that day.

It did.

And it was Father’s Day.

That hit me.

The song is about regret. About what is not said while someone is still alive. About fathers, sons, distance, love, timing and the pain of leaving things too late.

When it played in the room, I felt it deeply.

I cried.

Not only for my father, but also for my children, myself, the family line, and the ways love can get blocked, delayed, distorted or swallowed.

Afterwards, I posted something on Facebook and named the people who mattered in that moment. My father. My parents. My siblings. My children. René.

Whether they saw it or not was not the point.

The point was that I had said it.

On Father’s Day, in the energy of that song, I wanted to give that offering while people are still here.

That too was Anicca.

Because people change. Time changes. Relationships change. And one day, the option to say the thing may no longer be there.

How You Do One Thing

There were many moments at Millionaire Mind Intensive that stayed with me.

One phrase was:

How you do one thing is how you do everything.

I know this is one I may need to sit with for a while.

Because I can see how it connects to my irritation around not completing the blogs, my desire to follow through, my money awareness, my business structure, my home, my body and even my relationships.

Then there was the arrow-breaking exercise.

On the arrow, I wrote:

Not following through.

That was the block.

That was the thing I was tired of carrying.

And seeing the broken pieces again now, I realise this was not only about finishing tasks. It was about breaking the identity of the woman who keeps carrying her own unfinished promises.

Perhaps that is why these blogs have mattered so much to me. Not because anyone is standing over me demanding them. But because something in me wants to become a woman who completes what she says matters.

At the same time, Anicca also taught me that follow-through may not always happen in the original timeline.

Sometimes follow-through is slower.

Sometimes it has to pass through fatigue, migraines, family pain, home renovation, intimacy, training rooms, bookkeeping, fear and recovery before it becomes visible.

But it still counts.

A Different Charger

There was also a small, funny, symbolic thing that happened with my charger.

Before the arrow-breaking exercise, people could choose not to participate and leave the room. Earlier, I had lent my heavy power bank to someone whose phone battery had died. He was one of the people who left, and he did not seem to come back.

So there I was, about to stay in the room for an exercise that represented breaking through my block, while also realising my charger had left the room with someone else.

I could not chase after him without leaving the exercise myself.

So I stayed.

But I was upset. I asked the team if they knew who he was, whether they could track him down, what could be done.

Eventually, one of the team members gave me his charger.

And it was lighter.

More useful.

Better suited to different devices.

I lost one charger and received an improved version.

Small thing.

But also not small.

Because in a week called Change, even that felt symbolic.

Sometimes we panic because something leaves with someone else.

And then life hands us a lighter version.

What Anicca Asked of Me

When I look back at this third week after Vipassana, I can see that change was everywhere.

It was in my relationship with René, where love asked for more honesty and less protection. It was in the school library, where reliability showed itself as a value. It was in Goddess Creations, where structure, pricing, customer journey and legacy started asking for a new level of clarity.

It was also in René’s rebranding, where a creative experiment became a fifteen-year business shift. It was in my home, where storage had to be emptied, paint had to be surrendered and the building around me kept changing. It was in Millionaire Mind Intensive, where I returned to an old training in a new unit of time and made a decision that would affect the next season of my life.

And it was in The Living Years, where Father’s Day and family truth met each other in my body. It was in the arrow that carried the words Not following through. It was even in a charger that disappeared and came back in a better form.

So no, Anicca was not theoretical.

It was not a peaceful word on a meditation retreat.

It was life saying: everything is moving.

The question is not whether things will change.

They will.

The question is whether I can stay awake while they do.

Whether I can stop clinging to an old identity just because it is familiar.

Whether I can let love become more honest, service become more structured, money become more conscious, and follow-through become part of who I am.

Not perfectly.

But steadily.

And maybe that is the real integration of these three weeks.

Equanimity did not ask me to be untouched. Wholesomeness did not ask me to become perfect. Anicca did not ask me to control the change.

It asked me to stop pretending that the old shape could hold the new life.

This is Part 3 of my Vipassana Integration series.
Part 1: Equanimity
Part 2: Wholesomeness

If this reflection touches something in you — especially around change, commitment, follow-through, old protection patterns or the feeling that your life is asking you to become more honest — my free 5 Human Clouds guide may help you recognise what is moving underneath.

And if you feel ready to look at your own pattern with support, you are welcome to explore a Discovery Call.