In life, we play many roles. For each of these roles, we create a certain personality. Many of them were formed as a response to life situations, when we needed a specific part of ourselves to face what we were going through. Just like stones lie along a river, different parts exist within us. Some are large, others small. Some are strong, stable, and useful—we feel proud of them. Others are wounded, softer, more fragile. And when certain parts become very dominant, they can even slow down or block the flow of the river.

I can clearly recognize this within myself. In different countries, in different circumstances, I have built different parts of who I am. And sometimes, in a certain environment, I can spontaneously become one of these personalities. And yet, no matter how valuable it is to have a wide range of different parts, none of these personalities is the totality of our True Self. No matter which personality we identify with the most, it is still not who we truly are.

Our True Self is what exists beyond the collection of all our personalities. It is the part within us that we can feel and perceive when the voices of our inner roles become quiet. It is silence. A feeling. A subtle awareness. It is the Space where we enter into a real encounter with what we are.

When the Stone Drops and the River Flows

Water always finds a way. It moves around every stone, curves around it, and continues to flow. And sometimes, it is precisely because of these stones that a new current is formed. When we speak about “taking a break from ourselves,” we are speaking about a shift in consciousness. A movement from identifying with the stone—a specific part of ourselves—into a state where we become the river. The river is soft, gentle, flowing, and alive. The stone, on the other hand, remains in place. It holds its form and its function, but it is not flexible.

The soul, however, is capable of movement, growth, evolution. When we consciously connect with our true essence, we begin to experience expansion, flow, and softness. From this perspective, it becomes easier to see what supports us and what does not—and to gently begin releasing what holds us back.

The Parts Within Us That Long to Be Met

Often, we carry parts within us that have never truly been seen, heard, or expressed. It is as if there are small cracks within our inner world, through which certain situations, words, or emotional charges can quickly pull us out of a state of peace and connection. And yet, within each of us lives a deep longing for connection—with ourselves and with everything around us. A longing to feel, to be seen, to be in unity with ourselves, with others, and with life. Just as we needed this in childhood, we need it as adults. Perhaps one of the most important questions is: where do we find this again? How do we return to it?

The paradox is that it begins to unfold when we shift our state of consciousness. When we move from the identity of the stone into the flow of the river. When we reconnect with the current of life and allow it to guide us.

This is when we begin to listen—to the sound of the river, to the quiet voice of the soul. At the same time, we begin to recognize the activity of the mind—the part that keeps us within limitations—and slowly move beyond it. It is a remembering of who we truly are.

Returning to Connection

Our soul carries within it answers, wisdom, and knowing. When we reconnect with this inner source, we begin to sense our path, our purpose, and our deeper calling. At the same time, something subtle begins to move within us—a gentle current of a loving life force. The parts within us that once felt unseen, the places where we felt emptiness, begin to fill. Not through effort, but through Presence. Through the feeling of being connected again. When we shift from ego into the soul, we realize something very simple: we were never truly separate.

This Presence is no longer just an idea—it becomes an experience. We begin to feel it in nature, in trees, in the earth, in the eyes of those around us. Suddenly, everything becomes alive, and even the space around us feels alive. And in this aliveness, something within us begins to soften, open, and return home. Sometimes, all we need is a Space where we can set down our “stones” for a moment. A place where we don’t have to be anything other than what we are. A Presence that helps us step beyond the consciousness of the stone, and an invitation to surrender into the flow of the river. A quiet where everything slows down and softens—where we can listen to ourselves and meet our essence again.

I wish for you to find a space where you can hear the sound of your own river again—and remember who you truly are.