I was the first to stand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It wasn\u2019t brave. It wasn\u2019t planned. It just happened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was my niece\u2019s wedding, and the cue for the bride\u2019s entrance came\u2014soft, melodic, unmistakable. I rose from my chair, expecting the rest of the guests to follow. But no one did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Suddenly, I felt awkward. Exposed. I sat back down, cheeks hot, heart pounding. She walked down the aisle without the honour of her guests rising to greet her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was just a moment. But it stayed with me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Later, I realised: the music wasn\u2019t wrong. I<\/em> wasn\u2019t wrong. What was missing was the courage to be the first.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I thought about all the times I hadn\u2019t spoken up. When I\u2019d dimmed my light to match someone else\u2019s shadow. When I\u2019d waited for permission to be myself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And then, a second thought came: the Earth never waits for permission to be majestic. Trees grow skyward whether we admire them or not. Rivers run their course, unapologetically.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gaia doesn\u2019t ask, \u201cIs this okay?\u201d She just is.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n That night, I made a vow. Next time I feel the cue\u2014spiritual or literal\u2014I will rise. Whether or not others do. Whether or not they understand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Because sometimes, being the first to stand isn\u2019t about weddings or rituals. It\u2019s about reclaiming your alignment with something deeper\u2014your truth, your inner compass, your Earth-rooted soul.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And who knows?<\/p>\n\n\n\n Maybe next time\u2026 when I stand, others will follow.<\/p>\n\n\n\naudio version:<\/h2>\n\n\n\n