Using Human Design to create a life of ease and flow
On leaning into my true nature to create a life I love by Sarah Lynas
I look back and I wonder, when did I stop trusting myself and hide the brightest part of me?
Like my dad, I was a creative free spirit and, ever since I can remember, all I wanted was to do things differently.
I wanted to be a tomboy when all my friends were being girly. I wanted to ride my BMX and climb trees instead of going shopping. I wanted to invent and design and rebel, and if there was a standard way of doing things I always chose the alternative. I was funny and cheeky and good at all sorts of things, from drawing to dancing to helping out with DIY.
There was a voice deep inside me that promised “you are going to be quite something one day.” I trusted that voice and, although it felt a bit scary, I felt sure of myself and I really wanted to shine.
And then, I stopped.
It started with small things.
Mum asking what I wanted for dinner. “I don’t mind” became my answer, when in fact I knew exactly what I wanted.
My friend asking me if I was ok when I looked fed up. “I don’t know, I’m fine” I’d reply, when I knew that what I wanted was to be somewhere else, having a different conversation.
Teachers praising my work endlessly. From the top of the class I’d wave away that praise, I wasn’t doing anything special, it was easy, I didn’t deserve or want to be singled out.
The pivotal moment was choosing engineering-focused A-levels based on what my boyfriend was doing. I followed his lead because he seemed so very sure of his choices and I “didn’t know” what I wanted to do.
Except I did know.
Knowing, but not saying
I wanted to study art and photography, pottery and writing, not knowing where that journey might take me, but feeling the right-ness of it in my bones. Feeling how it would light me up, make me feel alive in a way that the sensible route of science and maths never would. Yet I couldn’t say it out loud.
Somehow, in a last minute moment of clarity, I added art to my list of options, not knowing then that the art room would become my haven for the next two years, somewhere I could still feel like myself.
Because slowly but surely, outside of that creative space, I’d lost track of who I was here to be. I felt bland and dull. I had nothing to share, who would be interested in talking to me, hanging out with me?
And yet, the bright part of me was still there. She was rebellious, confident, and still felt she could be something special. Only now she was hidden deep inside someone who sounded unsure, self-effacing, easily influenced; my power given away, my voice not my own, my self-worth gone.
You might wonder how this played out over the next few decades, or perhaps you can easily imagine? I’d love to tell you that I threw off that protective outer shell, stood up for what I wanted and lived that bright shiny life I’d promised myself.
Here’s what happened instead.
I bailed out of university after a few short weeks. I couldn’t make friends because I didn’t know who I was and, no surprise, engineering was not for me. I had no confidence and no sense of direction.
I fell into a series of dead-end jobs until, by chance, I landed in a tiny but fast growing entrepreneurial business which could have been, at last, my chance to break out and be the real me, successful and happy!
It still hurts to look back on those years; brimming with opportunities that I either hid from or lashed out at. I look back with such compassion. I want to reach back and hold 24-year-old me tight and tell her she was safe, in that place, to come out of her shell and be entirely herself. To be that creative free spirit she was born to be.
The turning point; a map of me
Two years ago 46-year-old me found a map that started to make sense of the journey; the hiding, the uncertainty, the battle between my head and my body.
That map was my human design chart. Maybe you’ve seen yours already, maybe it’s all new? Like me, perhaps you’ll look at yours and wonder how on earth you can untangle its mysteries… I’d been looking at mine on and off for three whole years before I let myself know it held the answers.
So, what is it? Well, human design is an energetic profile, and an experiment. Yes, there’s some learning; finding out what’s what, but mostly the magic is in living it - what does this mean for me? what of this feels true for me? It’s fast, and slow and, although a guide is useful to show you the path, it’s not an experiment that anyone else can do for you.
Trusting my body
The first thing I learned is that, yes, my body really does know. She was trying her best to guide me through college and into a fulfilling job, to the right places to be and into nurturing relationships.
So that first time I got married, when my whole body was telling me something was wrong? She was right. Those jobs, friends, opportunities that weren’t right for me? She knew every time, pulling me backwards not quite as fast as my desperate-not-to-miss-out ego was hauling me forwards.
It turns out my body has a reliable built-in way of telling me what to do, where to go, and I’d been ignoring her for all these years, conditioned to listen to my mind-chatter instead of my inner knowing. This inner ‘authority’, for me, is my sacral centre, offering me clear yes or no signals to everything around me; it couldn’t be simpler. Do I listen now? Hell yes!
Trusting my worth
Then I learned that when work feels easeful for me, when I’m lit up and in flow, that’s when I’m actually doing the most valuable work. I’m a generator type, I’m literally designed to be lit up at work; in fact most (70%) of us are like this too.
But I’d been taught that work had to be hard. So I thought that if I was praised for doing something I found enjoyable I should ignore it “what? oh that was no big deal, don’t mention it” and I should just work harder until it wasn’t fun anymore.
When, in my early 40’s I project-managed a four year design and build project in my spare time, I couldn’t understand why people were so impressed; surely anyone could do this standing on their head?
My self worth was at rock bottom because I was so conditioned to try and prove myself all the time through ‘hard work’ instead of flow. This shadow behaviour of my undefined heart centre is what stopped me from accepting praise for anything I found easy or enjoyable.
My mantra now is “I have nothing to prove”.
It’s deceptively powerful. If you’ve lived a life of trying to fit in, to please others or make yourself heard, say it out loud with me… ” I have nothing to prove.” How light and freeing does it feel to sink into that knowledge?
Trusting my flexible nature
I’ll wrap up with one of the most intriguing learnings I found in my map. I’m not designed to have a fixed identity or direction, to find the one thing that’s right for me. I’m designed with an open G centre, meaning I’m here to be flexible and fluid, to be at ease in a variety of places with different people, and let my body guide me, following the breadcrumbs to unknown adventures.
Looking back, I can see how strongly I felt this as a child, how I was drawn to doing things my own way, feeling independent and totally ok with not conforming… until I let myself be conditioned by the idea of finding the ‘right’ career, fitting in with the ‘right’ people. Seeing others so certain of their direction was enticing; I wanted that. But since I couldn’t find that surety in me, I simply gave my power to them instead “I don’t know, you decide”.
Now two full years into my human design experiment I’ve created the life I’m here to live, doing work I adore, and which lights me up. I’ve healed relationships with my parents and my partner, and I’m trusting my body wholeheartedly to guide me to each next, right step.
What a gift it would have been, in my teens, to have this map. To have learned how to be myself. How to listen to my body, knowing I had nothing to prove, that I could simply be me; flexible, creative, entirely unique.
Could this be the ultimate freedom? I think it just might.
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