Soul Wisdom is a weekly newsletter. Please feel free to share parts of this letter that connect with you, or send to someone you love. A special shout out to all the new subscribers who joined since the last newsletter. Thank you for valuing my work when there are so many things that can take your attention online. I appreciate you. It means everything. 🖤
Each morning, I’ve been starting my day with a simple ritual: a list of thank yous to life.
Thank you, life, for this beautiful apartment.
Thank you, life, for another chance to live.
Thank you, life, for the love around me.
Thank you, life, for the community in my world.
Thank you, life, for this moment.
The list goes on.
Recently, I stepped into a new role with an organisation called Matchr as a Senior Recruiter helping to grow one of their clients, Engine. After over a year of yearning for more stability and purpose, life connected me to an opportunity that aligns with who I am in this chapter. It’s a privilege to do work that reflects my spirit and values.
Ten years ago, I had no idea I’d be doing what I’m doing now.
I’ve come to realise: it’s not my job to decide what the container for growth looks like. Life is doing its work through me.
My role is to be available. Present. Empty.
When I’m coaching someone, my old instinct used to be wanting to give them a breakthrough—to be the one who changes their life. But that is my ego in the driver’s seat. That’s my hero complex, masked as good intention. The need to solve the problem. But that gets in the way of the process unfolding as it needs to.
The truth is, I have no idea what someone else’s journey is meant to look like—or even my own. I might just be a seed planted along their path. I may never see the fruit. And that’s okay. I don’t need to be their whole journey.
If I truly want to serve, I have to get out of the way. To trust that what’s needed will come through—not from me, but through me. Sometimes impact doesn’t look like joy or resolution. Sometimes the client walks away unsettled. Sometimes they’re not in a good place when they leave. That doesn’t mean I haven’t served their highest good. I’ve stirred something in them.
A humble servant of life.
To show up each day and place myself at the feet of life.
To see each person as God in disguise.
To be used in whatever way is needed to help elevate collective consciousness—even if I never see the outcome.
So I choose not to see this as just “another job” that’s separate from my creative endeavours or simply a way to pay the bills (though I’m grateful it does). I choose to see it as God’s work. My judgment about how I should be serving is all ego.
Starting this new chapter has brought up some old fears quietly lingering beneath the surface.
Responsibility.
I’ve not had the best relationship with that word. It’s always felt heavy and hard. Maybe because I felt the pressure early on to grow up quickly and figure things out. To be perfect. To keep up in school and in society. And to resolve situations in my family home.
Being the eldest of three sons, I naturally felt I had to sort out all the emotional turmoil, especially since I felt so deeply and was acutely aware of everyone’s emotional needs.
On one hand, I know the pressure from responsibility isn’t real. It’s a projection from the ego, which is part of the body.
“You don’t have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body.” - C.S. Lewis.
There is nothing to fear, because I am exactly where I’m meant to be. As Hafiz said: “Where you are now, God circled on a map for you.”
On the other hand, the pressure feels real, and I recognise the old story that says I can’t handle it, that I’m not good enough, and that I need to prove myself.
So, I choose to reframe responsibility as Sacred Duty.
Dharma.
Ownership.
I choose to see it as an experience I’ve been gifted to nurture into fruition.
Another fear that’s surfaced? Power.
I know there’s a shadow in me. A part that longs for power and control, born from the powerlessness I once felt growing up. There’s a part of me that would find satisfaction in dominance. That could be seduced by the illusion of control.
The line from Spider-Man stays with me:
“With great power comes great responsibility.”
I recognise that my desire for power isn’t just about status though—it’s a longing to feel safe. To feel seen. To help. But even that desire must be held gently. Consciously. It must be checked.
And so I ask:
Please, life, keep me humble as I continue to evolve and grow.
Let me remember: every act of service is sacred.
Every conversation, a thread in the web of awakening.
I am an instrument—beautiful, but easily replaced.
For a long time, I lived in the in-between—leaving behind an old identity, unsure of the new one. Now, I’m beginning to see: this is it. The work. The service. The daily devotion.
“Let no devotee miss his daily appointment with God.” - Paramahansa Yogananda
Each morning is my personal appointment with God. That quiet time to reflect. To sit with gratitude, regardless of what’s happening around me. To be with whatever I’m feeling, without judgment.
Each day, I move with as much intention as I can. Each role I play—coach, recruiter, brother, friend, boyfriend—is another opportunity to be of service.
Thank you, life.
May I continue to be a humble servant.
May I remember to leave my ego at the door each morning before walking into a new day.
To surrender to that which is guiding me.
To take my seat with radical faith—not in the driver’s seat, but the passenger’s.
With love,
V
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Working with me
If you’re wanting to do any of the following then reach out to me:
live with more courage,
discover and speak your truth confidently,
understand your emotions and your patterns,
set boundaries with family members and others,
deepen your relationship to yourself and your partner.
Your daily life is a beautiful prayer.