Fiercely Committed (Even Though You Don't Know Where You're Going Yet)

Last week I woke up and I didn't know how to function.

I had my to-do list. I had my plans. I had the version of my life that, on paper, was still fully intact. And I couldn't move through any of it. I remember sitting on the edge of my bed thinking, I don't even know how to get through today, and having no idea what to do with that thought except let it sit there.

So I got in my car. I didn't have a destination. I just drove. Two hours later I ended up in a nearby town, New Paltz, and I got out and I walked. I walked and walked and walked, aimlessly. I just put one foot in front of the other and breathed, because that was the only message I could follow. I treated myself to a quiet meal. And somewhere in that walking, something in me got very clear and very quiet at the same time, and I went home and ended a relationship that no longer fit with who I'm becoming.

I'm grieving. I'm grieving an old life I can't go back to, even though I don't yet know what the new one fully looks like.

I know who I'm becoming. I can feel her, I can feel the shape of that identity, but I don't always know how to show up as her yet.

The old paradigm, the old way I moved through my days and my relationships and my leadership, is crumbling. And the systems I've built, the foundation that's actually solid, are still there  but the way I've been inhabiting them isn't possible anymore. It's just not there.

I keep finding my way back to pure joy in meditation, in my embodiment practices. Eyes closed, I'm home. And then I open my eyes and I don't recognize myself. I don't recognize my life or this world.

I've felt, if I'm completely honest, pretty lost.

And here's what I want to say to you as someone who guides others, because I've never believed a guide has to have it all figured out.

I've never needed to be ten steps ahead of the people I'm walking with. I only ever need to be a couple of steps ahead, close enough to reach back a hand. That's why I call myself a guide and not an expert. So this isn't me pretending I'm not in it.

I am fully, currently, in it. This is me writing to you from the disorientation...

The Turn

There is a part of me whispering I don't have the capacity right now, this isn't the right time, let me wait until things feel more settled. 

I started hearing that exact same voice everywhere. In the objections. In the hesitation. In the "I know the value of this, but..." In the slow-walking and the stalling and the almost-yeses that never quite become yeses.

And something in me got fierce. Because I recognized it. That voice is not wisdom. That voice is fear wearing the costume of readiness.

I'll go first and be honest: I'm pulling back in places too. I tell myself I don't have the capacity. But look at what I'm actually doing. I am getting up every single morning, meditating, and moving my body even when it hurts because it hurts. I am showing up, consistent, dedicated, even on the days it's hard, even on the days I don't recognize my own life when I open my eyes. I am expanding my capacity daily, in the middle of the disorientation, not after it resolves. I am fiercely committed even though I don't know exactly where I'm going yet.

That's the whole teaching, if there is one this month:

You don't wait for clarity to practice discipline. The discipline is what walks you toward the clarity.

To the healers, the guides, the space-holders (myself included)

We have got to step this up.

The world is getting louder. More chaotic, more fractured, more people reaching for something steady and not finding it.

If we are the ones who claim to hold space for transformation, who claim to be healers and leaders of whatever this new paradigm actually is then we do not get to play small right now. We do not get to hide behind "I'm not ready" or "it's not the right time" or "things are just too slow or too busy right now."

This is the right time. This disorientation you're feeling is not a sign to wait. It is the invitation.

We have to invest in ourselves.

We have to come together in community instead of white-knuckling it alone.

We have to use every tool and every resource we have, because people are going to come to us with nothing; no community, no resources, no compass of their own, and we cannot hold space for them out of an empty well.

We have to be visible.

We have to be the ones who say hell yes, I've got this, not because we have it all figured out, but because we're done hiding while we wait to.

This isn't only for the healers, though I needed to name you specifically, because you carry more than most and you deserve to hear this directly.

This is for anyone who is ready to be the leader of their own life.

Taking responsibility doesn't mean you have to know the whole path. It means you stop waiting for the fog to clear before you take the next step.

This is when you take action

Not when it feels easy. Not when you feel ready. Not when the ground stops shifting. Now. Disoriented, mid-grief, unsure, walking a path you've never been to with no destination in mind. This is when you take it.

Lean into community. It doesn't have to be ours, though ours is here; the Seekers Membership, the Alchemist Circle, the New Leaders and the Sage Guides, the land itself. We've built an ecosystem of support precisely for moments like this one, whether you're a leader who needs to be held so you can hold others, or a person in the middle of your own transformation who needs somewhere real to land. But wherever you lean, lean into something. Do not do this alone. None of us were meant to.

I don't know exactly where I'm going yet. I know who I'm becoming, and I'm walking toward her one committed, authentically disoriented step at a time.

Hell yes. I've got this.

With grace,

If this is landing in a tender place, or you're in your own season of recalibration and craving real community around you, this is your invitation. Come find us — the Seekers Membership, the Alchemist, the New Leaders and the Sage Guides,  and the spaces we hold  are here for exactly this.