Uncovering The Real, Beautiful You
Underneath all your layers is the most beautiful creature you’ve never seen

Onions have layers, and so do we.
Not just the layers of our bodies — but the layers of our energies. That, and the layers of our emotions.
The layers of all our experiences, piled on top of one another. The layers of the beliefs we see through.
17 years ago, I was sitting in a yoga teacher training. It was San Francisco, in the summer. That day, we had a special guest.
He sat down at the front of the room with a clear bowl of water. Into the water, he dropped a clear marble. “Do you see that?” he said. “This is your true self.”
He then took out several little bottles. Food coloring.
In went a drop of red. The water turned pink.
Drop of yellow.
Drop of blue.
Drip…drip…drip….
And before you know it, you couldn’t see the marble inside. The water was clouded with color.
“But!!!” he said, “Is the marble still in there? Are you still in there?”
We are all “in there.” In our “seat of self,” as Michael Singer calls it. But we often can’t connect to that self because it’s clouded over.
Our layers cover it up.
Some of us have very pretty onion skins.
Others…
When you peel an onion, you tear up. When you peel your own layers, you tear up too. Old emotions and hurts come up. Some feel amazing. Others, not so much.
On my evening walks, I often meditate. I don’t actually know what a “walking meditation” is. No one’s ever taught me, and I’ve never read about it.
But I do what I’d do in any meditation — I focus on the present. On the now. And I allow thoughts and emotions to rise up and release.
I feel things. My feet on the ground. My breathing. The sweat on my chest and forehead.
I see things. The gorgeous purple flowers that have come out. The birds in the creek. The beetles scurrying across the sidewalk in front of me. The snails, inching along on wet ground. The dogs, walking their owners.
All the while, I remember that what I see is a minute section of what’s out there in the world. I can only see what I focus on, and it’s a tiny beam. So I enjoy it.
And as thoughts and emotions rise, I listen to them. I ask them if they need help. I love on them. When the hurts come up, I tell them, “Thank you for coming out today.”
And that way, the pain feels wonderful and freeing. It feels amazing to feel.
Right now, I imagine that some people reading this are probably a bit lost, or confused. Maybe you’ve never experienced how good pain can feel when it comes up.
Maybe you’ve never really loved yourself.
You’ve only ever loved the onion, with all its layers.
But inside those layers is the real you. And that ‘you’ is beautiful beyond words.