On Taking the Higher Ground
Written from the higher ground I had to climb to reach.
When a family situation resurfaced these past weeks, potentially throwing me off my center at times, a dear friend — someone who knows my heart and my work — reminded me that generosity without balance is not noble, because even those we love can overlook the weight we carry. Her message made something inside me move and make space for a reality check. It revealed how easily our dignity can be mistaken for pliancy, how quickly “taking the high ground” can be interpreted as yielding our power. And it led me to reflect on what higher ground truly is — first, what it is NOT and should be not: a retreat, but a reclamation of sight, strength, and truth.
The truth is, some of us were not destined for the easy path.
We were shaped by fire — and by the responsibility of returning with wisdom from its other side.
We aren’t merely survivors.
We are alchemists, transforming what was meant to break us into something that strengthens us.
But to do that, we must rise.
We often hear that “taking the higher ground” means walking away, staying quiet, or plain absorbing what wounds us.
But this is only half the truth — and a half-truth can be dangerous.
Higher ground must not passive.
It is not weakness disguised as virtue.
Higher ground is elevation — literal and spiritual.
It means three things:
a) Gaining a clearer view of the situation.
From above, the battlefield changes.
What felt chaotic becomes legible.
What felt personal becomes structural.
What once loomed large reveals itself as small — persistent, yes, but no longer powerful.
b) Reaching upward, toward God, and tuning into the Divine antenna.
Elevation is not only distance.
It is connection.
When you rise, the noise dwindles and guidance becomes sharp.
You hear what is always there:
You are supported. You are guided. You are meant to be complete.
c) Creating distance from enemies — external or internal.
Not out of fear, but out of discernment.
When you climb higher, those who wish you harm cannot keep pace.
Their reach shortens.
Their influence thins.
Their judgments lose their grip.
And once you stand on that height,
once your lungs fill with new air and your perspective widens,
you finally see how to address what has been draining you.
Not from fear.
Not from exhaustion.
But from knowledge, confidence, and inner authority.
Higher ground does not ask you to erase yourself.
It asks you to rise long enough to remember who you are.
Take the height you need.
Let the fire you’ve survived become the gold you now carry.
And then choose — with steadiness and sovereignty —
what must be resolved, released, or confronted.
That is higher ground.
Not escape.
Elevation. Transformation. Alchemy.
If this resonates with you — if you too are learning to rise, to see clearly, and to reclaim your strength — I’d love to hear from you.
What does “higher ground” mean in your life right now?
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Love and Blessings,
Irenne
Your Embodied Vision Coach
Work with me to release Limiting Beliefs and what no longer fits with the person you are becoming.



Beautiful writing, and a timely message. You offer a description of "higher ground" in a way that is poetic, clear, and strong. Thank you. I needed to read this today.