Self-Inclusion at Work: Risky, Vital, Worth It
For the first time, my whole being is included in what I do.
Not just my mind. Not just my skills. But all of me.
What I do now fills me. It feeds my intellect, moves my body, stirs my soul. I find myself writing without effort. Sharing without hesitation. Creating from a place of presence and purpose that feels — finally — deeply, soulfully aligned.
That thing is called Eagle’s Nest. It’s a space I built not as a service, but as a response — to a longing I’d carried for years. A longing for a place where people are welcomed fully, where safety is created through connection, and where we grow not by pushing past our limits, but by including all of who we are. It’s an online community for Transformational Connection, and also — for me — the place where everything I am gets to exist at once: brain, body, soul. Thought, sensation, essence.
But before that clarity came, I lived many years split across layers — fragments of a self trying to find wholeness in systems that rarely welcomed it.
Let me show you what I mean.
Poker: A Life in the Mind
From 18 to 27, I was a professional poker player. I played with the best in the world, won a lot, and at my peak was considered one of the top players in Bulgaria. My mind loved it — the strategy, the complexity, the edge. My ego was well-fed: I was respected, I was successful, I was winning.
But looking back, I can say this clearly now: I was lost.
My body was mostly numb. My intuition — quiet or unreachable. I lived in a hypermental world, solving intellectual puzzles while barely touching my inner emotional landscape. For two years I stayed in a relationship that wasn’t working, unable to act on my needs. I wasn’t connected enough to myself to make real-life decisions with clarity. Beneath the surface, I was anxious, sad, angry — but I had no language or awareness to meet any of that.
And somewhere in that numbness, I was searching — without knowing it — for something else. Something beyond winning or being admired. Something that felt generative, not zero-sum. Something with more purpose, more connection, more real satisfaction. I didn’t have the words yet. But the hunger was already there.
Programming: Body at the Table, Soul Still Missing
Later, I began working as a programmer — and by then, I had started exploring embodiment. I didn’t want to live only in my mind anymore. I was actively trying to bring my full self into the workplace: emotions, breath, movement, rest, intuition. But I learned quickly that “bringing yourself” into a traditional work environment could be dangerous.
At my first job, I showed up as I was — open, inspired, maybe a little naive. I led a training session in a way that felt fresh and joyful to me, and the students applauded. But my manager didn’t like it. I don’t know exactly what hurt was touched in her, but a few weeks later, I was let go. It was a shock. I loved that job and my colleagues, and I couldn’t quite understand how showing up in my full expression could result in rejection.
Later, in another company, I met a similar pattern. No matter how much I tried to connect, a colleague didn't seem to like me. And again, I noticed the subtle (and not-so-subtle) consequences of being “different”: taking more breaks, moving my body, laughing more, resting when needed. These things that kept me regulated and aligned were perceived as laziness or disengagement.
Still, I kept trying.
Eventually, I landed in a team where more of me was welcomed. I was even told later that one of my managers initially thought I was lazy — but gave me a chance. What he saw, in time, was that my way of working actually made me more productive, not less. I was efficient, committed, and deeply engaged — because I was taking care of all of me.
And yet, something was still missing.
The work itself — while useful to society — felt dry. I was far from the people I was impacting. Far from any sense of soul-level connection to purpose, to wholeness, to life. I tried to bridge that gap: I helped form a new team, brought in a shared vision, and created more meaning inside our collaboration. And it helped — for a while. But even then, something deeper remained untouched.
What I was really craving wasn’t just meaningful work. It was to be in service to something bigger — something that included all of us. A sense of interconnection with humanity, with nature, with the universe. A soul purpose.
Eagle’s Nest: When It All Came Together
The turning point came when I finally let myself feel what I truly wanted to create — not another drop-in session, not one-off coaching, but a living community. A space with shared values. Where people meet regularly. Where love, safety, support, and truth are practiced together. Where trembling is welcomed. Where the work of becoming whole is done together.
When I connected to that longing — to the soul of the thing — everything began to flow.
I stopped feeling tired.
Work stopped feeling like work.
Writing and sharing became effortless.
Presence was simply… there.
It feels like being carried by something much larger than myself.
This is how I know it’s soul-aligned.
The Three Frequencies of Being
What I’ve come to see is that mind, body, and soul each operate at different frequencies — and living in wholeness means learning to honor and include all of them.
Mind is fast. It races at the speed of thought — analyzing, predicting, solving. It excels at abstraction, logic, and getting things done. It can move at lightning speed, skipping past the moment in pursuit of the next outcome.
Body is slower. It moves at the speed of breath. Of a sigh. Of a heartbeat. It responds in real time — sensing, feeling, regulating, expressing. It doesn’t rush; it listens. It grounds us in the now. It offers signals and truths that the mind alone can’t reach.
Soul is slowest. Maybe even timeless. It pulses at the rhythm of the universe — the rhythm of dreams, grief, wonder, mystery. It speaks in symbols, longings, and quiet knowings. It rarely demands. It waits, hums, calls — until we are still enough to hear.
Work That Includes All of You
Most work environments are built almost entirely for the speed of the mind.
They are optimized for productivity, efficiency, clarity, deadlines, and results. Which isn’t inherently wrong — but it often comes at a cost. The speed of thought is valued above all else, and anything slower — feelings, presence, embodiment, intuition, rest — can be perceived as weakness, distraction, or inefficiency.
But here's the paradox:
Slowing down to the speed of the body can make us wiser.
Slowing down to the rhythm of the soul can make our work more meaningful — and in the long run, more sustainable, more creative, more alive.
When we include all of our frequencies, we don’t just "work" — we create. We connect. We build things that matter. We bring life into the systems we're part of.
I believe that by daring to slow down — to include the body and soul alongside the mind — we don’t lose efficiency, we deepen it. We create workspaces that are not just productive, but regenerative.
Wholeness Has Its Own Intelligence
The invitation isn’t to abandon the mind. It’s to let it collaborate — with breath, with intuition, with the deeper knowing that lives below words.
Wholeness is not a speed. It’s a harmony.
What would it take to design our work not just around output, but around being?
Not just around productivity, but around aliveness?
When we include the body and soul at the table, we’re not doing less — we’re doing what matters, more truthfully.
The Cost and Reward of Inclusion
I want to be honest about the difficulty of including myself.
There were moments when my soul felt so starved, I wanted to give up. When including myself felt too risky or painful. When I doubted if it was worth it.
This created a lot of suffering — unconsciousness, going through the motions automatically. I was disconnected, depleted, and sometimes despairing.
I was laid off once, and almost twice — consequences of being different, of trying to be whole in systems not always ready for it.
But every time I was able to include even a small piece of myself, it brought some aliveness, some purpose, some hope.
Inviting More of You, Safely
Including more of yourself in your life and work can feel both exciting and scary. It’s not about rushing or pushing hard — it’s about gently inviting yourself to try new ways of being that feel alive and authentic.
Here are some ideas that have helped me — not as rules, but as invitations you might explore in your own way:
Nurture Your Sovereignty
Feeling safe enough to show up fully starts with having a foundation beneath you. This might mean building some financial cushion or creating boundaries that protect your energy. When you know you have space to take risks, it’s easier to open up more of who you are.Notice Your Dependencies
Sometimes, we hold onto patterns or attachments that keep us playing small, even when we want to grow. Take time to gently explore what might be holding you back — no judgment, just curiosity.Take Radical Ownership of Your Experience
Embrace responsibility for how you engage with your work and environment. This doesn’t mean blaming yourself for everything, but rather recognizing your power to shape your experience, to set boundaries, and to choose how you respond to others and include yourself. Owning your part can deepen your connection to yourself and your work.Take Small, Risk-Free Steps
Inclusion doesn’t have to mean big leaps. It can start with small moments — noticing your breath, acknowledging an emotion, or setting a tiny boundary with kindness. These small acts can ripple out in surprising ways.Invest in What Supports You
Whether it’s building skills that make you feel confident, deepening emotional intelligence, or learning to work alongside new technologies, nurturing your growth can make room for more of your true self to shine.
There’s no one right way to include yourself more fully. Every step you take, no matter how small, is a meaningful part of becoming more alive, more present, more you.
Not an Escape
This is not a call to quit your job or run away from life.
It’s an invitation to include more of yourself where you are, starting with small acts of presence and self-love.
Even the smallest acts of self-inclusion — a breath, a boundary, a moment of truth — can open new space within.
The Mission Beneath It All
Eagle’s Nest exists because I believe that Wholeness and Self Love aren’t luxuries — they are essential for transformation.
There’s no shortcut to evolving as a species, to realigning with nature, to rising in consciousness, without first learning to be radically present, connected, and whole as individuals.
Eagle’s Nest is my offering to that vision — a place where we come as we are, stay as we feel, and soar as we become.
If you’re feeling the hum in your chest, the ache for something deeper — you’re not alone.
That hum is the beginning.
It’s not something to fix. It’s something to follow.
🪶
