Dear sisters, matriarchs, and matriarchs in the making,

Today, I want to share a few thoughts on decolonization — not as a concept that lives in books or institutions, but as a living, breathing practice that begins right here, in our daily lives.

Like Riane Eisler reminds us that “peace begins at home,” I believe decolonization does, too. It starts within our own hearts and households, then ripples outward — into our families, our communities, and eventually the systems we touch. For those of us from interrupted or assimilated lineages — especially those of mixed or European descent — this inner work can feel both tender and disorienting.

I’m deeply grateful to the Indigenous elders, aunties, uncles, and ceremonial teachers who’ve helped me navigate this terrain. As someone trained in law, I was taught to analyze, categorize, and stay in my head — to systematize everything. Decolonization, for me, has been about undoing that: remembering how to live and lead from the heart and the body again.

When I first began, I started by looking at the traits of colonial or dominant culture — things like perfectionism, urgency, competition, and binary thinking — and then learning their antidotes.

• Perfectionism’s antidote, for example, is appreciation and a culture of learning.

• Urgency’s antidote is creating realistic timelines and honoring natural rhythms.

• Competition softens into cooperation.

• Either/or thinking expands into possibility.

I quickly realized that these shifts weren’t abstract — they required me to change how I moved through space, especially in mixed cultural environments. My “lawyer energy,” as I lovingly call it, was creating disruption — not out of intention, but out of conditioning. Learning to slow down, listen, and invite multiple truths made my work and relationships infinitely richer.

And this is where the practice continues: if we want to transform the systems around us, we begin by transforming the systems within us. If we want to end perfectionism in our workplaces or families, we start by softening its grip inside ourselves.

The second thread of decolonization for me is spirit. Bringing the sacred back into everything we do — even (and especially) in places that seem far removed from it, like corporate boardrooms or Zoom meetings. When we remember the sacredness of life, governance shifts. Leadership softens. Healing begins.

This part of the journey often leads us to our lineage. To the old stories, songs, and land-based practices that once held our ancestors close to the Earth. Sometimes that knowledge is readily accessible; sometimes it takes patience and care to find. And if we’re learning from traditions outside our own lineage, we must do so with deep respect, acknowledgment, and integrity.

Decolonization isn’t about guilt or blame — it’s about remembering wholeness. It’s a path toward feeling better in our bodies, our relationships, and our communities.

So my invitation to you is this:

Start where you are. Notice where perfectionism or urgency show up. See if you can replace them with appreciation, patience, or presence.

Bring a moment of sacred awareness into your day — even something as simple as lighting a candle before a meeting or stepping outside to feel the ground beneath your feet.

That, too, is decolonization.

With warmth and solidarity,

Maija