Being Lost Is The Point

Photo by Rosa Rafael on Unsplash

I had to step away from writing online.

I stepped away, not because I stopped loving it but actually because I began to love it too much. I love reading and being able to engage with so many voices that inspire, comfort and remind me that I am not alone with a lot of the thoughts that I have. But the more I engaged, the more I consumed. And as a therapist, my mind already runs without pause so constant consumption, even the beautiful things can add a layer of overwhelm.

When I opened the app and saw my last post was in early June, it really just shows how much this time was necessary. Sometimes we think we have to blow up our world or stop everything in it’s tracks in order for us to make mind shifts or release in ways that are necessary and monumental but sometimes it takes just finding a balance in the midst of it. Finding small ways to anchor myself lead me to recognizing how much I needed to take time to tune in and hear myself.

For me, that meant letting the grounded part of me lead, so that I can hear the more quieter, gentler part that was asking for space. It also meant moving the energy of my emotions through real action, not just spinning them in my head. Our thoughts can run wild and chain us mentally to the cycle of preparation and protection.

Anxiety loves to disguise itself but it really pushes us into action in ways that may be super limited, controlled and designed only to protect. Rumination is the mind’s attempt at doing something about situations that really call for us to practice acceptance. Before you know it, you are living in your mind and just existing in your body until something happens and jolts you back to the present. And, it’s often the very discomfort that you’ve been running from all along.

I was running this race in my mind for years, coached through my inner criticism. Every time I’d get to the finish line, I’d find ways to start again, trying to out-run the pain I experienced and the parts of myself that I believed failed me. And in the process, I grew more disconnected from myself and my body.

Anxiety has always been this undercurrent in my life, but lately I’ve been leaning into how much power the present really holds. Fear tells us the same story every time, and it’s up to me to hear it and decide what’s real. Readiness isn’t the product of preparation. It’s the choice we have to make despite it, fueled by the willingness to embrace the process before we see the ending.

Fear would always sound like the whispers of finite failure, helplessness and inevitable exposure. Trauma taught me that slowing down could possibly mean being blindsided or harmed and passivity is a sign of allowing missed opportunities. So I stayed in motion which brought me further away from flowing into myself. Chasing the next thing, even if it doesn’t align only brings you closer to the next thing my fear creates that I don’t want to manifest. I was missing the beauty of where I was at every chance.

Credit: Civana Wellness Resort & Spa

For my anniversary this year, I recently visited Civana Wellness Resort & Spa in Carefree, Arizona and I felt like I was reunited with the part of myself that I’ve been working towards integrating. From the moment I arrived, I knew what I was seeking: presence. Presence with myself, presence with my husband and focusing on allowing myself to be where my feet were. I realized how much of life is spent consuming, information, energy, inspiration, stimulation from all angles and it’s really quietly draining me and pushing me farther away from where I really am.

At Civana, I made a quiet commitment to myself: to reduce the noise, to be okay with where I am, and to remember that stillness is not stuckness. Presence is power — a pathway back to myself.

One of the moments I truly cherish, is my guided labyrinth walk. I did it once alongside others, and later, alone. Almost immediately, after focusing on my breath and allowing myself to be present in my body, a thought surfaced: No matter where you are on your path back to yourself, your breath is the one constant.

Breath is always here, no matter how much we run from ourselves and our mind takes us away.

The labyrinth reminded me that to return to yourself, you don’t need to prepare or know where you are going you just have to pace yourself and take one small step forward. As I continued to walk, I remembered my first and only tattoo: “Not all those who wander are lost.” Sometimes I really forget it’s there because it’s on my spine. I remember getting this tattoo in a season where I was all about leaning into self-exploration and discovery. Somehow I ended up in the same place being reminded that sometimes being lost is the point.

We’re not lost because we’ve failed. And the perception of not having a clear destination is what being a human is all about. We find ourselves lost because we always feel like we have to find our way. Anxiety pushes us to feel like we always have to have a solution, find our way and figure it out. Finding our way, over and over again, is the process to embrace.

Being lost is the point. It helps us find our way back to ourselves and back to our humanness.

In the labyrinth, there was always someone ahead of me and someone behind me. It mirrored life, how our minds invent pressure about being “ahead” or “behind” when, in reality, it’s not reality and we’re all doing the same thing: taking one step at a time back to ourselves.

When we live in our heads, anxiety fuels the need to compare and it ultimately disconnects us through keeping us in mental loops in our minds.

Gentle Reminder:

Focus on being present in your body. Take one step at a time and you’ll get back to who and where you are meant to be. Connect with yourself and don’t be afraid to evolve. Balancing the inner work with all the beautiful things that exist within us and around us is what life is all about. Beauty that can only be felt when we are truly here.