I vow to stay with myself.
When desire arises, I will not shame it,
and I will not follow it away from my own truth.

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I vow to listen to my body first.
To let it tell me what’s real—what feels safe, what feels nourishing, what feels misaligned.
Even when my mind spins stories. Even when the world pulls.
My body knows, and I will trust it.

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I vow to hold my openness with discernment—
to remain receptive without collapsing into entanglement,
to know that feeling deeply does not require me to lose myself.

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I vow to speak truth, even if it costs me closeness.
To let clear, direct, compassionate communication lead—
even through grief,
even through confusion,
even through anger.

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I vow to give myself permission to remain silent when silence is truest—
when the conversation is complete,
when I sense my energy would only be drained,
when the moment has passed,
and when stillness is the most honest form of communication.

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I vow to honor the truth when it arises,
even if it asks me to walk away.
Even if the part of me that hopes whispers maybe...

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I vow to receive my own offerings.
To pour my light and love onto myself.
To bend the needle of my energy back in my direction.
To give myself the protection and nourishment I need.

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I vow to deepen in the light that I am.
To rest in the love that pervades.
To speak, move, and act from that knowing.

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If guides, visions, altered states, or subtle presences arise—
I will let them arise inside the field of love.
If no guides arise—perfect: the One is here.
I will trust the One beneath all appearances.

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I vow to renounce.
To let go over and over again.
To be in intimacy with how it is in each moment.

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I vow to remain in my center—
to return to it when I stray,
to rest in it when I am uncertain,
to trust it as the compass of my life.

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This is my vow.
I place it in the field of the One.
May I be met, and moved, from the love that pervades.