A Quiet Revolution

A few years ago, the phrase The Revolution of the Kind People came to me like a whisper—one of those quiet truths that refuse to be ignored. It was not about fighting, but about restoring. Not about overpowering, but about re-centering.

We live in a world dominated by speed, productivity, and expansion—yang energy unchecked. Without the balance of yin—rest, depth, and wisdom—we burn out, disconnect, and deplete the earth as we deplete ourselves. This revolution is about reclaiming that lost balance. It’s about making space for slowness, for cyclical wisdom, for deep listening.

This is not just a personal transformation; it’s a collective one.

The Art of Enough

What if we let go of the idea that more is always better? What if we stopped chasing expansion and started tending to what is already here?

True growth is not about endless accumulation, but about nourishment. The same way a tree does not grow indefinitely, but deepens its roots. The way a river does not force its way forward, but carves its path over time.

Kindness is not weakness. It takes strength to slow down in a world that demands you speed up. It takes courage to say, This is enough.

The Book

I am writing a book about The Revolution of the Kind People—a journey through balance, transformation, and what it means to live in harmony with ourselves and the world.

It is a call to remember what we have forgotten: that softness is powerful, that slowness is necessary, that kindness can be a revolution.

About Me

My name is Tara, and I have spent my life exploring the edges—of culture, psychology, and the human experience. As a Jungian therapist and writer, I am deeply committed to understanding the unseen, the cyclical, the intuitive.

This revolution is not mine alone. It is for all of us who feel that the world is moving too fast, who long for a different way of being. If this resonates with you, welcome.

Let’s create space for what truly matters.

Embracing My Intuition: Letting Go of Control

For so long, I’ve felt a deep desire to make intuition a more accepted part of our world, to see it valued in decision-making across all sectors. Yet, in that struggle, I realized something ironic: while I was championing intuition externally, I wasn’t fully trusting my own. I spoke of being an intuitive person—and I…

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For so long, I’ve felt a deep desire to make intuition a more accepted part of our world, to see it valued in decision-making across all sectors. Yet, in that struggle, I realized something ironic: while I was championing intuition externally, I wasn’t fully trusting my own. I spoke of being an intuitive person—and I am—but leaning on that intuition felt frightening, and in many ways, it still does.

Intuition isn’t visible or easily proven. Unlike our senses, it can’t be verified or measured in the same way. But intuition has its own quiet wisdom. Just as I believe in the value of intuition in society, I’m now realizing that I must give it a place in myself, learning to trust it deeply and fully. “Practice what you preach” has never felt more relevant.

Reflecting on my recent job experiences, I see a pattern. I’ve repeatedly found myself in roles where intuition took a back seat to more observational tasks. And despite my ambitions and skills, I struggled to understand why I ended up in places that left me feeling drained. Now, I understand that I wasn’t fully listening to my intuition; instead, I was driven by fear, impatience, and a desire for control—things that an intuitive life simply doesn’t offer.

Intuition works differently. It’s fluid and asks us to trust its timing. It gives guidance but often steers us away from something that doesn’t serve us, and toward what truly does. Intuition isn’t a promise of certainty, but it does create a sense of safety when we allow it to lead. However, letting go of control is challenging, especially when there’s no example to follow. I’ve always known I was deeply intuitive, connected to the unconscious, and capable of big things if I dared to live intuitively. Yet I was often frustrated by a world that didn’t seem to allow this. Now I see that my inner world held similar resistance.

Lately, my intuition has been telling me to stop searching for the “perfect” role or place where I might finally land, grow, and contribute meaningfully. It’s nudging me to stop doing altogether, to enjoy life, and focus on meaningful connections, rest, and learning to thrive in stillness. But my thoughts—the part of me that fears uncertainty—have pushed back. I suppressed my intuition and leaned on fear and worry instead.

Jungian psychology teaches that we each have a primary and an inferior function: feeling vs. thinking, and sensing vs. intuiting. If you’re primarily intuitive, like me, sensing (dealing with concrete details) will likely be the hardest. And if you’re more of a feeler, thinking may be your biggest challenge. This doesn’t mean we lack these capacities; it just means they’re the hardest to master, and often where our greatest learning lies. When we grow up in a culture that doesn’t nurture our dominant function—if, say, an intuitive is forced to rely only on concrete, sensory experiences—it can distort our self-view, and we may not understand why.

I once couldn’t understand why I wasn’t thriving in scientific roles despite being capable and intelligent. But these functions aren’t about intelligence; they’re about our fundamental way of experiencing the world and making decisions. I made myself into a “thinker” because sensing was overwhelming, even though I’m naturally intuitive. Now, I want to allow myself to fully be an intuitive, trusting that my true path will emerge as I do so. I sense this alignment will bring the peace I’ve longed for.

So, I’m letting go. I’m going to stop pushing, stop searching. I’ll focus on living differently, on connecting, resting, and learning to flow with intuition rather than controlling every step. And while that feels daunting, it’s less frightening than continuing to push myself into roles that don’t serve my true nature. It’s time to release this weight and give my intuition the trust it deserves.