I’ve done the work… now what?
reflecting,
recalibrating,
resetting,
releasing.
the gift of self-awareness is enlightening, and it can be beautiful.
but what’s often not discussed is what to do with that awareness.
to learn your triggers.
to understand and accept new realities.
to recognize what you love, what you dislike.
to know what you want… and what you can live without.
to become aware of how your actions and words affect others.
to digest the parts of yourself you may not like or wish to grow from.
to see how your past, present, and future actions shape the direction of your life.
unlearning,
learning,
re-establishing.
to be made aware of these things can be profound and freeing…
but now what?
they say healing isn’t linear –
but is there an end to healing?
we are always learning, always digesting and alchemizing the lessons of life.
but once you’ve truly sat in and processed your pain, your trauma,
what now?
isolation can be a key to self-discovery.
to sit with your thoughts, your emotions, your feelings.
to notice what feels good, what feels safe, what feels like home.
that vulnerability itself can be uncomfortable.
so for how long do you “sit in it” before you become immobile?
for how long do you reflect and process before it’s time to move again?
yes, healing isn’t linear.
but how do you know you’ve healed,
until you’re placed back in similar situations that once revealed the need to do so?
or when new experiences arise, stirring the same emotions and echoes of old wounds?
maybe healing isn’t about reaching an end,
but about recognizing that those experiences forever live within you.
and not to confine you, but to inform you.
once you reemerge from solitude,
stepping back into the wild of discomfort,
you carry with you a quiet shield:
the armor of everything you’ve worked through.
wisdom,
discernment,
clarity,
apprehension?
being “healed” doesn’t always mean having all the answers.
it means knowing how to move, think, and feel differently when life tests what you’ve learned.
that’s when the real work begins.
that’s where the true testament of growth takes root…
in your choices, in your pauses, in the way you respond.
it’s okay not to have all the answers,
even when you’ve studied and prepared.
adjustments,
grace,
empathy,
redirection.
let’s take forest regeneration and the jack pine tree, for example:
suffering.
when wildfires rage through the forest, it seems like life is lost.
the trees burn, the earth blackens, and everything familiar disappears.
but sometimes, it takes heat to spark new life.
revision.
the fire’s intensity softens the resin that once sealed the pine’s serotinous cones,
finally freeing the seeds within.
as the flames fade, the soil is left fertile,
cleansed of competition…
rich with possibility.
unfolding.
from what was burned away,
and what looked like destruction —
something new begins to rise.
vibrant,
childlike,
resilient.
the forest renews itself, quietly.
life begins again.
this cycle of death and rebirth reminds us that even the harshest events
lead to self-awareness, healing, and new beginnings.
what once felt like loss becomes the foundation for something stronger, softer,
and full of life and love again.
there are always lessons to be learned,
and God-willing, more life to live.
there’s forever love to pour,
wisdom to nurture, and
grace to extend.
so yes…
make healing a priority,
but remember that living is, too.
you won’t always have it figured out,
none of us do.
but each day you rise, you’re healing still,
just by choosing to live with intention, light, and love.
keep learning,
keep applying,
stay open to evolution.
allow the process to be messy, freeing, unpredictable, cringey, intense, uncomfortable, vulnerable, ever-changing, non-restricting –
a mindful paradox of emotion and becoming.
for it seems that life is a continuous cycle of…
reflecting,
recalibrating,
resetting,
releasing.
slowly and reverently,
Mar B. 🪷
