A Felt Sense of Abundance

Goddess Lakshmi at BAPS Swaminarayan Akshardham in New Jersey, one of the largest Hindu temples outside of India.

There are moments when an image feels less like something to look at and more like something to remember.

Goddess Lakshmi, traditionally associated with abundance and steadiness, stopped me in that way.

I loved seeing how settled she is in her body. One foot grounded, the other relaxed. Her posture isn’t rigid. It’s stable. There’s no urgency in her stance, no sense of striving. Just presence.

What I notice first is her nervous system.

She is calm. Regulated. Rooted.

From a wellness perspective, that matters. The body communicates safety before the mind ever does. Her shoulders are soft. Her gaze is steady. Her hands hold, not clench. This is the body of someone who trusts the ground beneath her.

The lotus she carries feels important, but not in a dramatic way. It’s not lifted high or displayed. It’s held gently, almost like a reminder. The lotus grows through murky water, through pressure and density, yet opens clean and intact. It doesn’t rush. It doesn’t force itself open.

That feels deeply aligned with the work I return to again and again, especially when thinking about the inner child.

So much of our early learning happens in the body. Before we have language, we learn how to brace, how to soften, how to survive. When we slow down enough, those early patterns show themselves. Sometimes as tension. Sometimes as fatigue. Sometimes as a quiet longing for ease.

This goddess doesn’t offer answers. She offers a felt sense.

She reminds me that care is not something we earn after exhaustion. That steadiness is a form of abundance. That being held is foundational to healing.

In seasons like winter, or during moments of transition, I find myself returning to this energy. Not to do more, but to listen more closely. To come back into the body. To offer myself the kind of safety that allows things to unfold naturally. She invites alignment.

She is a reminder that softness and strength are not opposites. That healing doesn’t always look like effort. And that sometimes, the most powerful thing we can do is stand rooted and let ourselves be supported.