By Kimberly Dawkins, Ener-Ki
There’s a truth I’ve learned over years of walking this path as a healer, death doula, and student of energy medicine: clarity and compassion must work together.
When I set an intention, I don’t just think about what I want. I get specific. I decide how I want it to feel, what values it must honor, and what my non-negotiables are. Then, I release it. I don’t cling. I don’t try to force every step. I let it go, trusting that Source, God, the ancestors—the whole spiritual network—will arrange the timing and the form.
That part sounds beautiful and clean, right?
But life doesn’t stop being life just because you’ve set a vision.
Even with the clearest intention, there are days I don’t feel like a shaman. Or a healer. Or even the best version of myself. There are days my humanity is loud—fearful, tired, frustrated. And if I’m being honest, there was a time I thought those emotions meant I was failing at my spiritual work.
Now I see them differently.
We’ve been conditioned to believe that people in “healing work” should somehow be immune to doubt, anger, sadness, or fear. But here’s the truth: the healer is still human. The difference is that I understand what emotions really are—energy moving through. I don’t let them define me, but I also don’t skip over them.
In my own practice, there’s a rhythm that’s emerged: set the intention, release the outcome, and allow myself to feel everythingin the process. When I do this, something incredible happens—I meet myself with compassion first, which allows me to meet my clients with even more empathy.
I’ve had days where frustration came in like a wave. On those days, I remind myself: you can still hold your vision while making room for the truth of the moment. That truth might be that you need rest. Or space. Or a conversation that helps you see things from a new angle.
The beauty is that sometimes, the very thing you’ve been trusting for finally arrives—maybe not in the package you imagined, but in a form that’s even more aligned than you could have designed. And when that happens, you realize that the journey wasn’t just about the “thing” at the end. It was about who you became while waiting for it.
This is the real work:
To be deeply committed to your vision while allowing yourself to be fully, unapologetically human along the way.
Because when intention meets humanity, you don’t just manifest an outcome—you grow into the person who can hold it.
Reflection:
Where could you give yourself more room to be human while still holding on to your vision?
