Candice Kaur was not born a Sikhs but after a journey of discovering her own path she found that Sikhi was her path. This is a very powerful phase where she describes her decision to boldly wear a turban. I looked at myself in the mirror and I remembered myself at 19 years old in […]
Candice Kaur was not born a Sikhs but after a journey of discovering her own path she found that Sikhi was her path. This is a very powerful phase where she describes her decision to boldly wear a turban.
I looked at myself in the mirror and I remembered myself at 19 years old in my long red dress and my tall eric badou style head wrap singing a cappella soul, captivating the crowd with the energy that I radiated. Owning my own presence, standing in both my humility and my power at once. I remembered… taking it off. Feeling that I didn’t have the right to embody that spirit that strength, that it wasn’t mine, that I was somehow imitating something that I could never be, whether that was aesthetically, ethnically, energetically. If only I’d learned then that the soul is beyond all of that. And that actually I not only had every right but I had the responsibility to reflect my higher self.
I looked in my mirror and remembered myself last year in the gurdwara, meditating alone. My hair wrapped on long folds of weighed understanding of myself. The cloth of growth and self-forgiveness wound around my mind, just tightly enough to keep my thoughts contained from running away with themselves, and gently enough to allow all my swallowed ego to settle while the realization of endless spirit set in. My simran.
My hair coiled up on my head as the antennae that tuned me into my truth and made the picture on the screen of my consciousness just that little bit clearer. I felt strength, I felt peace, tears flowed. Like I struck the oil of truth