A couple of years ago, while scrolling through Pinterest (I’m obsessed with Pinterest), I came across a series of photos that stopped me in my tracks—images of what I can only describe as badass nuns.
In our last session, we spoke about metaphors—how we connect to them, how they shape the way we see ourselves, especially in the context of leadership. My first instinct was to think of the Dalai Lama and his quiet strength. But when I dug deeper, when I really tried to summon and connect with the hero within me, these nuns came to mind.
The Druk Amitabha nuns live in the lush green hills of Druk Amitabha, west of Kathmandu, Nepal. Every day, their training begins at 6 a.m., and they practice Kung Fu in the tradition of China’s Shaolin Temple. They train for two hours daily, tirelessly repeating intricate movements under the guidance of their teacher. When he visits from Vietnam, their sessions increase to three times a day—six hours of disciplined practice. Their lives are a profound mix of discipline, meditation, and inner strength.
As I mentioned in a previous post, I’m on a journey to reclaim and re-envision my inner hero. If I want to become a strong leader for others, I have to first lead myself with compassion and clarity.
In my 20s, I thought I had life figured out. I was creating and sharing my art, exhibiting in Canada and abroad. I collaborated with phenomenal artists, received funding, and won awards for my creative work. From the outside, it looked like success. But the truth is, I was deeply broken.
During those years, I endured violent relationships and the lingering trauma of earlier ones. My life has been shaped by emotional, physical, and psychological violence. And layered on top of that: racism, discrimination, and microaggressions. Some of these challenges still show up in my life today.
Most recently, I finally got away from a violent family member. Healing from that experience has been one of the most painful things I’ve ever had to do. And racism? It’s still alive and well. I don’t think people realize how much is stored in the body of a Black woman—how much is held in my body. All that hurt. All those memories. It’s debilitating. Sometimes overwhelmingly so. And isolating.
These pains have manifested as depression and anxiety. I allowed those experiences to seep deep into my soul. Rage and anger became constant companions, but they took a toll on both my physical and spiritual health.
So here I am, at 44, starting again. Looking inward. Reexamining my choices. Asking myself hard questions. And learning to forgive myself for being exactly where I am.
In class, we talked about metaphors and how they reflect who we are. For me, the Druk Amitabha nuns feel like the perfect metaphor. Not because I want to become a nun, but because I admire what they embody: silent strength, unwavering discipline, resilience, and an unshakable practice.
The world isn’t going to change anytime soon. I know that. Racism, microaggressions, war, corruption—they’re not going away. There will always be betrayal, heartbreak, failure, sadness, and confusion etc..
But through all of it, I want to keep becoming stronger.
My inner hero has kept me alive all these years. She’s motivated me, inspired me, and helped me endure. I want to see this through, I want to se eher through
