How the Lost Find Their Way

During the dark nights of the soul, I kept asking:

How does a lost person find their way?

I moved.

Not straight.

Spiral.

Sometimes up.

Sometimes down.

Sometimes toward what glittered, and away from what mattered.

I circled the center.

Writing was there.

It always was.

I learned to hold uncertainty.

To sit in the doubt until it thinned.

Not to rush.

Not to decide too soon.

A spider spins from the design inside itself.

We don’t.

We have to find the shape first.

We have to learn the edges of our own terrain.

Around and around.

From hope to hopelessness.

From dark to light.

Each turn brought me closer.

Closer to the essence of the Self, I always know it's there.

Some days, I wrote without a point.

Walked without a destination.

Read without seeking the lesson.

And still, ideas rose.

The world shifts constantly.

You shift with it.

When the pattern wove itself into me, I felt the energy change.

I was not the same.

I will never be the same.

The spiral turns again.

But I won't lose my way, as long as I am orbiting around the Self—my inner compass.

Individuation does not follow a straight line, but instead spirals, cycles, and returns—often appearing chaotic or regressive, while actually deepening over time.

You revisit similar wounds at deeper levels.

It feels like setbacks, but they are actually an integration.

You feel worse before better; clarity comes after confusion.

Dreams, archetypes, and synchronicities guide you more than plans.

Healing happens when safety and spaciousness allow it—not when pushed.

Spontaneous awakenings, downloads, and dissolutions of identity may occur.

A single insight may collapse years of believing.

And then you are free.

Read the full essay here.