“There is a wilderness inside me, a thousand selves I’ve yet to meet.”
— Nikita Gill
There are multitudes living within me.
Some rise with the sun, hopeful and golden. Others linger in the hollows, cloaked in the hush of twilight.
I am not one self, but a gathering.
A carved cathedral of voices,
layered in bone and breath.
There is a child within me who still believes in magic,
who speaks to the stars without shame.
A warrior who guards what is sacred.
A dreamer who keeps planting light in the dark.
A skeptic, a sage, a wanderer, a witness.
Each has their own language. Their own longing.
They rise in turn, in seasons, in cycles.
I do not silence them.
I listen. I host. I hold.
Understanding that a person is never singular.
They are a collective.
A sacred community, housed in skin.
And I wonder—
what if we honored ourselves that way?
Not as puzzles to solve,
but as temples of complexity.
Not as failures for contradiction,
but as constellations of becoming.
What if healing meant not eliminating parts of ourselves,
but gathering them into communion?
Letting the fierce and the fragile sit side by side.
Letting the ancient and the tender meet.
Letting all that we are
Be seen,
without asking to be simplified.
I am a myth of many.
A parliament of pasts and possible futures.
I am a host of hidden altars,
each lit with the soft flame of presence.
And in that,
I am whole.
We Are a Community Within Ourselves
There’s a quietly revolutionary idea found in ancient philosophy, psychology, and even science fiction: that a single human being is not a singular, unified entity—but a community of inner selves. Each one with its own voice, its own needs, its own perspective.
This belief was beautifully symbolized in the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode “The Chase,” when Captain Picard receives a gift called a Kurlan naiskos—an ancient figurine from a civilization that believed an individual was made up of many distinct selves. Nestled within the larger statue are dozens of smaller ones, each representing a facet of the whole. The symbolism is profound: wholeness is not about uniformity, but about honoring inner multiplicity.
Modern psychology echoes this idea. Internal Family Systems (IFS) therapy, for instance, teaches that we all have “parts”—aspects of ourselves formed through experiences, memories, traumas, and roles. There is the inner child, the inner critic, the protector, the rebel, the nurturer. None are wrong or broken. Each has something to teach us.
We’re taught to strive for consistency, to be one thing—rational, strong, stable, certain. But what if true inner peace comes from embracing contradiction? From understanding that different parts of us may want different things—and that this is normal, even beautiful?
You might feel joy and grief at the same time. You might long for change and fear it simultaneously. This doesn’t mean you’re confused or weak. It means you’re human.
When we learn to listen to the many voices within—with compassion rather than judgment—we move toward integration. Not a collapse of the self into one dominant identity, but a harmony between parts. A kind of inner democracy. A sacred chorus.
You are not fragmented.
You are many.
And in that, you are whole.
~Morgan~
Need a daily dose of Positivity and Empowerment? Want to join a growing community of people committed to uplifting, not hating? Join Positivity Pathfinders, my new group on Facebook dedicated to Hope and Love.
If you’d like to keep up with everything I’m doing, sign up for my monthly newsletter by visiting my author website
If you’d like to see more of my artwork, please visit my DeviantArt page
BooknVolume 