The other day, someone asked me what it means to be enlightened.
The first image that came to mind was the one we’ve all seen. Someone sitting alone in nature, very still and peaceful, with light around them. And I caught myself, because on the surface, of course, that feels like enlightenment. Nothing is pulling at you. No one needs anything from you. It’s quiet, and it’s controlled.
It’s easier to feel at peace when nothing is bothering you, when there are no demands, no interruptions.
But then I started thinking about real life, about the times when you’re in a relationship, in a home, in a body that’s tired. When people depend on you. When there’s work, family, and responsibilities that never pause. In those moments, you can’t just go sit and figure yourself out.
Is it still possible then?
For me, enlightenment shouldn’t live somewhere far removed from daily life.
Instead, it shows up right in the middle of everything.
What came to me was mothering. The real, messy version of it. When it feels repetitive and exhausting. Often invisible. The kind where you give and give, even when you feel empty. When you’re needed again before you’ve had a moment to reset.
Something spills. Someone is crying. You’re late. You feel the reaction and emotions rising in your body. The urge to rush, to snap, or to shut down. And right there, in a split second, a story begins to form. “They’re not listening.” “I can’t handle this.” “This is too much.”
And yet, there is this small space where we can hold onto and pause. Perhaps not every time, and maybe not perfectly, but you notice it. You get to see what’s happening before the reaction takes over.
Enlightenment in other traditions is waking up from the illusion, or in other words, seeing what’s not true. To see our stories, to catch ourselves before we lose ourselves again in our own thoughts. From a Toltec lens, this is awareness. Seeing what’s not true and not believing it right away. It is in this exact moment that we get to choose.
That feels closer to enlightenment than sitting alone somewhere. Because when you’re alone, there’s nothing there to trigger you. Life shows you where you are; it becomes a mirror that reflects every single aspect of you.
So instead of trying to get away from your emotions, you start to feel them. You listen, and you stop treating them like a problem and start seeing them as information. Building more space for them. And from there, you choose how you respond.
That’s the practice. Being in your life and feeling everything. Learning to bring your thoughts, your words, and your actions into the same place.
So if you’re showing up for someone, if you’re holding things together in ways no one sees, if you’re catching yourself even a little bit more than you used to, that counts.
Happy Mother’s Day to all of you who care for someone, in all the ways that aren’t seen.
This is the work. 🧡
