The Journey
“Vulnerability is uncertainty, risk and emotional exposure. That unstable feeling we get when we step out of our comfort zone.” Brene Brown
When I reflect on the path I’ve travelled to get to where I am, it feels a fragile and somewhat turbulent journey.
It feels like I’m not anywhere of significance when I do that thing where I compare myself to others. Those others that are successful and knew their journey and walked their path with intention from a young age; whatever young means. That thing of comparison that makes me squirm and get really uncomfortable in my own skin.
You know what they say about comparison. It is the thief of joy.
They are right.
Where is this place of purpose I’m meant to be? I’m here now. I’ve emerged from a bendy, thin, overgrown path full of scratchy brambles and nettles where I was poked uncomfortably and had my exposed skin torn and shredded. Each turn in the path felt like there was supposed to be something just around the corner.
This really excruciating space with no visibility created a tunnel of depth that felt endless at times. Desperate even.
Within that depth, I feel like there was no other place to go but within.
For the last several years I’ve been going “in” as a way to try to escape the discomfort of the path of challenge that I chose for myself. It’s been baby steps, as it always is in this kind of process. Nothing happens overnight.
The first time I considered working on my own soul and digging in for more meaning was just a small deliberation. It was simply to choose a word to guide and direct me in the new year. That word was inner peace. It was a stretch. Impossible actually. Inner peace was the exact opposite of the ball of anger I’d become.
This impossible to imagine word came at a time when we had a baby, I’d been made redundant from my job while on mat leave, we moved to a new country, I left all of my comforts, family, friends, tribe. Everything that had made me me was now thousands of miles away.
My identity shattered. In every single sense. And it took me years of walking that damn scratchy path to rediscover my own sense of Self. I’m not where I thought I’d be at 45. If you’d asked me 20 years ago what my life would be like now, this is not the picture I’d have painted. Not even close. But is that the case for anyone? Maybe in the land of comparison it is.
Following the peanut trail over the past few years has never felt like huge leaps or giant moves toward the “right” path. It’s been more like gentle little shifts but when you turn around and look behind you all you see is a massive pivot. Or many pivots. A vortex is maybe the most accurate.
I’ve read dozens upon dozens of books about purpose and path and that led to a bit more spiritual searching. Then a bit more. Then even more. I’ve studied Feng Shui, learned a bit about energy frequencies, found some nifty tarot cards, read about crystals, had some pretty insightful (and confusing) astrology readings done. And soul plan readings. And hypnotherapy. And breath work sessions. I practice EFT. I meditate daily. I stopped drinking.
All of those are amazing AND they all fused together for me in a space called Human Design.
At no other point in my life have I had so many ah-ha moments, sighs of relief and tears of reassurance. The more I learn about Human Design, the more it’s like the universe is handing me little permission slips to just be myself. As I am. All the shadows and all the light are permitted in this arena. The arena of enoughness. Because actually you can’t totally know the light without a bit of shadow. The more we understand our dark bits, the more we can lean into the light.
That is the human experience. We’re here to feel it all.
My journey has been a prickly one at times. But I’m now sitting in a clearing enjoying a vista and feeling great amounts of gratitude for that jagged path that birthed me out into this fresh space with new perspective and a few scars. I wouldn’t have chosen it, but I’m grateful I experienced it exactly as I have.
This sense of knowing isn’t something that would have come from a float down a lazy river. I had to work for it. Discover it. Metamorphosis into it like a butterfly. I mean who doesn’t want to turn into actual goop and then restructure all of their cells to grow wings and fly?!
If you want to know more about human design, I’m now a family coach and human design specialist working to turn pain into power and connection by discovering the shadows and light that make each human, human.
