The Cartographer of Alchemy: A Newsletter
Mapping the soul work, surrender, and the art of transmutation. Witnessing lifeâs rawness into meaning through light, shadow, and the unknown.
June 2025⨠Iâm Back (With A Lantern In Hand): Returning to My Soul, One Breath at a Time
đżFrom the Inner Shore
A quiet note from where Iâve been, and whatâs been stirring.
Hello Soul Voyagers,
Itâs been a while since I last wrote to you, and in that time, Iâve been doing the quiet workâthe soul workâof coming home to myself.
This month, Iâm returning to this newsletter with a slower heart and clearer purpose, simply to share the path Iâm walking, in case it helps light yours too.
In November last year, we had left Japan, a world of order and smooth surfaces, and landed in chaos held together by string, faith, and ceremonial prayers. It was during what locals called an unusually brutal monsoon, where the rain didnât fallâit roared. Our house flooded. The roof caved in. Nothing worked the way it used to be.
I couldn't help but wonder;
âBali is not paradiseânot in the way Instagram and YouTube promise. But maybe thatâs its real gift.â
And yet⌠somewhere in the mess, something in me softened. I began to see the quiet offerings on doorsteps, the barefoot children laughing, the kindness that asked nothing in return. I stopped trying to fix everything and learned to witness instead.
I didnât expect this landâBaliâto break me open. I came with dreams of beauty and healing. Now I've stayed long enough to feel the weight behind its smiles. The grief here isnât always loud. Sometimes it seeps through stray dogs I see limping on the sidewalk, streets filled with families crammed on motorbikes, and the tourists who take without seeing. And somehow, all of that grief found me, overwhelmed me, even though it wasnât mine.
These past few months were all about radical acceptance. About learning to keep my heart soft in a world that doesnât feel at peace. About letting life shape me without breaking me. And arriving at the point, I surrendered.
That the pain of the world is not mine to carry.
That compassion without boundaries is not strengthâitâs burnout.
And that soul fatigue is real.
Then I stopped trying to save the world, and solve its problems, and focused on the only one thing I can truly save,âmy Soul.
I tuned in to the sound bowls vibrating against my spine.
To my breath in Mountain pose.
To the way light filters through silence when I stop numbing the ache.
And remembered that I am not here to hold it all. I am here to witness, and then let go.
I am here to stay sane in a world that glorifies exhaustion.
And I am hereâtentatively, quietlyâto share my work again.
Not because I have something grand to say.
But because I finally heard my Soul whisper:
âItâs time.â
đď¸This letter is for anyone navigating:
- soul-fatigue and emotional overwhelm, or stuck
- grief in a culture that glorifies productivity
- longing for a safe place in chaotic lands (inside and out)
- the ache of being a stranger in a new place (trying to create something in silence and obscurity?)
- the need to re-root in whatâs true, real, and alive
đżHereâs why Iâm sharing my work again:
- To gather moments and share the journey. Through the in-progress truth and rawness, I hope that its honesty can light the path for others in similar transitions.
- To map the way back to light. Even when the road is dim, this creative lighthouse will guide me to connect with my own inner world. A living archive that tracks my creative and personal growthâto the Self.
- To practice expression as a sacred ritual. Publishing my words to the public will anchor me to the momentum of 'showing up and being seen'â a spiritual practice as much as a craft one.
- To connect with like-minded soul friends. Hopefully, this will be the one honest thing in your inbox that makes you feel less alone in this self-discovery path of lost and found.
- To witness and reflect, not fix or perform. But to practice self-expression, refine my tone, and deepen my voice through the commitment to connect.
- To build a body of work I can look back on and say: âYes, I lived this.â
Thank you for being hereâstill, or again, or maybe for the first time.
With loving kindness,
Kwan.
đP.S. With this newsletter, I canât promise frequency. I can promise honesty.
â Read the full essay here
Introducing the đŞśNow Section:
A section for short essays, reflections, lessons learned, or even failed experiments. Itâs a living archive that tracks my creative and personal growth. A tangible proof of my evolution.
Find them here đ
We All Are the Walking Wounded
â¨Whatâs Unfolding
A truth this particular season is revealing to me. A reflection, affirmation, or statement that rose above the noise and asked to be heard.
âI am here to understand the meaning of sufferingâmy own and the worldâsâso I may transform it into wisdom and compassion. Through writing, I journey inward to reconnect with the Light of my Soul, guided by the ancient teachings of consciousness, the mystical traditions, and my lived experience. My task is to return Home to the Source within, and from this truth, help others find their way through darkness, toward wholeness.â
đď¸Echoes & Offerings
My gentle gifts to you: links, quotes, tiny rituals. Sacred internet finds of whatâs been echoing in my worldâhopefully, it will speak to yours too.
đ Set Energetic Boundaries (to cure the soul fatigue)
- Theme: Compassion doesnât mean taking on every wound.
- Morning Grounding: Morning walk on the grass, sun gazing, then visualize a soft, golden shield around your body.
Say:
âMy love is infinite, but my energy is sacred. I give whatâs mine to give, no more.â - Reflection Prompt:
âWhere do I give too much? Where can I lovingly pull back without guilt?â - Evening Release:
Journal or whisper:
âI did enough. I am enough. It is not all mine to carry.â
đ 10 prompts in my Journal from April to June (three very cruel months)
1.âŻWhat grief am I witnessing that isnât mineâand how can I honor it without carrying it?
2.âŻWhen did I first feel culturally ungroundedâand what did that feel like in my body?
3.âŻWhere in this new life do I feel unhurriedâand what does my pulse feel like next to it?
4.âŻWhat small act of kindness have I received recently that I realize was radical acceptance?
5.âŻHow have I redefined âparadiseâ this monthâand what does that shape tell me about myself?
6.âŻIn what moments did I feel my heart hardenâand how did I bring it back to softness?
7.âŻWhat one practice helped me reconnect with my soulâand what barriers tried to stop me?
8.âŻIf I met myself in that torrential rain in November, what would I say to that person?
9.âŻWhat lie about perfection am I still grievingâand how can I reframe it as grace?
10.âŻWhatâs one offering I can make to myself daily to cultivate peace and love this month?
đIn the Quiet Hours
An update, transitions, tech shifts, and what I am working on. A little note on the background rhythm of things.
I started the process of migrating to this web host last year. You may find the navigation confusing, and missing pages, links, and tags. Please bear with me, it is still a work in progress (of moving what was and integrating what will be).
I've been testing my ground on Medium since April 2024. I have migrated (and will do, in the future) posts from there to here. You can find them all in the Diarist âđź
â¤ď¸To my new subscribers, thank you and welcome, this one is for you đ"Ten Days, No Talking: Uncovering the Noble Truth in Silence"
đ¤ If Youâre Walking This Path TooâŚ
đťAnd if something stirred in youâ a thought or a question, quiet reflection, Iâd love to hear from you.
Just my humble invitation to connect đ¤
Thank you for spending time with me today.