TO SOURCE AGAIN
In position 3 of The Mind Map, a brain retraining tool I was introduced to some years ago, one imagines standing between two paths: the familiar track toward “un-wellness” to the left, and its opposite, the path to “wellness,” to the right.
Position 3 is neither. It exists off the map—suspended in timelessness, outside of where you’ve been and where you might someday go.
Position 3 is the core self—infinitely compassionate, eternally loving.
The Mind Map, a profound tool from the Gupta Program, has seven positions. Position 3 represents the core self, free from developmental, generational, and societal conditioning.
To stand in its field is to feel connected, grounded, safe, integrated, and unconditionally loved.
As a meditation, it offers a rare chance to steep in a felt sense of wholeness. The practice asks us to embody the sensations and emotions present when we are most ourselves.
This isn’t always easy. One way to conjure the feeling is to recall a time when we felt appreciated and seen—perhaps with a beloved caregiver or mentor.
I often return to sitting in my grandmother’s lap, playing with her work-worn hands.
Another doorway is remembering a place of ease and beauty—curled with a pet, lost in a book, or immersed in nature.
I recall an afternoon on the beach in my twenties: lying belly-down in the sand, sun on my back, sea in my ears, idly sifting tiny shells through my fingers. I felt seven again—curious, drowsy, unhurried. No agenda, no pressure to “adult.” Free.
On The Map, position 3 is the refuge where our other, more complicated parts can reframe their experience.
She is the loving presence our anxious or frightened selves long to rest in, and the steady foundation from which our future selves—ambitious, hopeful, desirous—take flight.
It is good to become established in position 3. She reminds us not to take ourselves too seriously.
And yet, the world on our doorstep has grown volatile and unstable. We still go to work. We still meet friends for dinner. But beneath that normalcy, strong opinions and quiet fears take root, shaped by heavy things we’ve seen and heard in recent months.
Choosing to orient from position 3 is then an act of re-sourcing.
The word itself means to source again—to return to what sustains us. We don’t fabricate calm or summon love from nowhere; we tap the aquifer beneath the turbulence of daily life. Like shells under the sand, the feeling of being safe, steady, and whole is already there, waiting to be uncovered.
This matters now.
The temptation is to source from the surface—headlines, conflict, adrenaline—but that path leads only to exhaustion.
To re-source is a quiet act of rebellion in a time of unrest. It is to choose feet on the ground, a clear mind, and an open heart.
The call is to hold steady. Root into what runs deeper than the noise. In this way we keep showing up for our people and our work—grounded rather than swept away.
Re-sourced, we will stay engaged without being consumed.
In position 3 we are reminded that we already hold what we need to meet the world as it is.
This is the field I’ll be inviting us into together this October in Baja. The retreat will be a living practice of re-sourcing: time to reset in community, to remember what steadiness feels like in the body, and to return home with clarity and calm for the next chapter.