When the Container Begins to Grow

“Sometimes the most important growth happens underground, long before anything breaks the surface.”

Hi, it’s been a minute since I wrote a newsletter.

I never meant to disappear for so long, but there has been some root growth happening that needed to stay in the darkness beneath the soil for a while before I could grow up into the light and share again.

I have been busy since we last connected, but there has also been a deep resistance to social media. Even my YouTube and weekly card readings have stopped. After years of consistency—showing up and proving (to who, I wonder?) that I am reliable and can be trusted—I took a short break in August when my sister came to visit, and I just haven’t managed to remobilize myself in this area.

I have brainstormed, popped up the odd post, and had newsletter themes flutter through like butterflies that just wouldn’t stay. Every attempt has felt forced.

Normally I find a flow, hit my stride, feel connected to source—to you.

But I just couldn’t share. After a few months I decided this is obviously exactly what it needs to be right now.

Still, there have been moments—fits and starts of trying to get back to it.

Then patiently reminding myself: it’s okay.

Give yourself grace, time, and space.

And so, for the most part, I have.

Then we had a total lunar eclipse at 12° Virgo on the 3rd of the 3rd, 2026.

For those who know astrology, it happened in my first house, conjunct my North Node and Saturn.

For those who don’t, suffice it to say it was a very personally activating eclipse, and it feels like my sabbatical may be done.

Something was shifting

A theme began to emerge.

One that, like dandelion seeds, had blown in and out of my awareness several times over the past three years.

Each time I would jump to catch the little seed and think, oooh how interesting, before a gust of wind carried it away again.

But this time it began to take root.

I realized that in fact it had been taking root all along, but I was not yet able to see the growth—nor ready to recognize

the beautiful lesson unfolding for me.

The theme is about expansion, growth, and manifestation.

To tell you there have been a million little things occurring is probably not an understatement.

Some are obvious: the many physical changes in my life over the last five years—separation, divorce, house moves, single parenting lessons, children going into boarding school, clearing physical clutter, and so much more.

Some have been deeply emotional and unseen by many: deep grieving and loss, the emptying of millions of tears to make space. Shedding and shedding and shedding old patterns, traumas, and versions of myself that will always be part of me, but can no longer be in the driver’s seat.

Clearing my emotional clutter—and those who only add to it—has been exceptionally hard and painful. Finding the courage to let go of relationships where two people are not each taking accountability for their side of the street and working toward repair.

Others have been a bit of a mind game: recognizing that my thinking has helped create the reality I am experiencing, and that I need to change my mind in order to change my reality.

Let’s be honest—I have been doing this kind of work for years. The concept itself was not new. But in conjunction with the ruthless emptying out I was doing, it became harder and harder for my shadow parts to hide.

So I lit some candles in the basement of myself, threw down beautiful coloured throws and scatter cushions, made some tea and snacks, and invited all the unseen parts of me to join the others.

We had a talking circle where everyone had a chance to speak, and everyone else the opportunity to listen.

We began to see how silly and pointless some of our thoughts were. We also realized that many of them didn’t even originate with us, but with our conditioning.

Slowly and steadily, we have all toed the line in supporting one another as we—I—change my mind.

And so, although it at first seemed like a sudden first-house eclipse insight, the eclipse really brought it all together.

It reminded me of my karmic desire to serve humanity by sharing helpful tools and wisdom.

And that it was time to come back.

We need to practice expanding our container—not when a delivery is coming, but before.

The theme had been running quietly in the background while all this other work was ongoing (as it still is and always will be, because that’s what it is to do the deep work).

Eight hundred words in and finally we get to the point.

We need to practice expanding our container—not when a delivery is coming, but before.

We are so contracted around our own expansion.

This is normal.

Expansion takes us out of our comfort zone, and that means it can be scary.

When things feel scary, the default is to pull away or contract—making ourselves smaller rather than bigger, which expansion requires.

Oh, the dichotomy we now have to explore.

If we default to contraction when we are afraid of the new, what can we do?

I will pull out my old favourites:

Get comfortable with the uncomfortable.

And

There is no growth in the comfort zone and no comfort in the growth zone.

When we can accept that uncomfortable does not necessarily mean bad or wrong (although sometimes it does, obviously—but not in the context of self-growth), and we increase our capacity to sit with uncomfortable thoughts, feelings, and ideas, we begin to make progress.

A comfort zone has an edge or a boundary.

I have spent the last five years getting better at setting boundaries, and we absolutely need them.

They are wonderful—until they become a prison.

We need discernment and flexibility.

Boundaries keep us safe. Obviously we want to be safe. But if we never leave our safe space, we never get to learn new things, explore new ideas or feelings, or have new experiences.

All that adventure beyond the edge of our comfort zone can be both scary and thrilling.

Expanding the container does not mean breaking down the boundary walls.

It means stretching them.

Think of a young maiden pregnant with her first child. Her abdominal muscles have always been tight, yet within weeks of conception everything begins to soften and loosen.

The baby is only the size of a pea, but her body’s wisdom knows that if it waits to expand only when forced by the growing child, the stress will cause distress for both mother and baby.

And so, months before it is necessary, her body—the container—begins to expand in preparation.

Is that not amazing?

We see these lessons in nature all the time, but our bodies are nature too.

Our bodies store information and hold wisdom beyond any supercomputer.

My suggestion is that we begin to consciously and intentionally expand our container.

“How?” I hear you ask.

First, recognize that you are your greatest teacher.

Whatever resonates most deeply for you is likely the best place to begin.

Notice I did not say what is most comfortable or cozy or safe.

I said what resonates.

You will have an innate knowing of what is right for you, but this is often uncomfortable work.

We can view our container in parts, or as a whole.

There are limitless ways to do this.

The body lens.

During movement, begin to think about expansion. From a yogic perspective, for example, somatic yoga invites you to listen to how your body wants to move and open, rather than forcing yourself into the exact “should” of a pose.

Through practices like fascial flossing, imagine teasing out the sticky, resistant places. Feel your pelvis widening, your spine extending, your shoulders opening back and down.

Get curious. Where in your body is the energy getting stuck, and how could you create more flow?

Your body will know.

The heart lens.

Our heart’s electromagnetic field is far larger than that of our brain. It acts as the central bridge between the brain in our head and the brain in our gut.

This field forms the shape of a torus—a flowing, donut-like loop of energy.

Begin to visualize your heart torus expanding to contain your whole body, and then growing outward as far as you can imagine.

Work with this in meditation.

Build your capacity gradually.

Don’t rush or force it.

The mind lens.

Remember, the mind has been deeply conditioned—by culture, religion, gender expectations, and more.

I do love an affirmation, but it can take a very long time to believe something if we don’t yet believe what we are saying.

“What if” questions are wonderful because they open curiosity rather than forcing a belief.

For example:

What if I have fun?

What if I can do it?

What if it’s not true that women are the weaker sex?

What if I loved my body now, not only when I reach the “perfect” weight?

What if I stopped waiting to be happy and started now?

The holistic lens.

What if we did all of it?

When we live with curiosity, presence, intention, and mindfulness, we expand our container a little every day.

Sometimes expansion means rest and integration—turning down the volume on the inner critic who is constantly “should-ing” us.

Other times it means getting onto the yoga mat (or run, or gym—you do you) even when it feels hard.

Perhaps it means gently pushing yourself out the door for dinner with friends when part of you would rather hide under the covers where it feels “safe.”

I can now see—and more importantly feel—that I have been practicing growing my container for quite some time.

I am in another growth spurt now.

It feels scary.

And thrilling.

Reflecting on how far this expansion has already taken me, I am reminded how resilient and courageous I am.

I am falling even more in love with myself—my wild heart and willing soul.

I deserve to stretch.

Some things may not work, but I will learn something.

What I do know is that this little journey called life is one exhilarating ride—and I want to experience it fully.

I want that kind of expansion for you too.

Thank you for walking this reflection with me all the way to the end.

If this stirred something in you and you feel curious about expanding your own container, you are always welcome to explore this work with me.

I offer somatic yoga, energy work, intuitive guidance and astrology sessions, and I’m currently working from the Kenton Wellness Hub on Thursday afternoons.

I also work from home in Port Alfred and work virtually no matter where in the world you are.

You can reach me on 083 593 8543 if you feel called.