Learning to trust in the unknown when everything falls apart.

2024 has been a rough year to say the least. It has been a year of loss as I grieve for many close family members and friends who have journeyed to the other side of the veil. Most notably, my mom passed from complications due to Alzheimer’s and Dementia after a rapid decline over two years. Then, my boyfriend’s dad suddenly passed from a heart attack. To add fuel to the already stoked fire, I am in the midst of perimenopause hell and have said goodbye to a 25 year career in healthcare.

I currently find myself living between two realities: grieving for the familiar, comfortable past while wanting to reject that which lies ahead of me. I have found it necessary to practice ways of staying grounded each day, as I navigate the unknown. If like myself, you find yourself in the depths of the unknown, you know how uncomfortable this can be.

I typically live for summer—it's my favourite season, filled with flip-flops, tank tops, and days at the beach. However, this past summer, I plunged into the cold void of uncertainty instead of relishing the warmth and expansiveness of the season. I normally have energy for days and won’t stop on those long Summer nights. Instead, I found myself wanting to retreat into the vastness of my inner landscape.

I share all of this because for too many years, I pushed myself to exhaustion. I kept ‘busy’ as a means to distract myself from that which was bubbling within. Our hustle & grind culture only perpetuates this toxic cycle. After all, hustle culture can fuck right off.

There are certain moments in life that have us questioning everything and will leave us reconfiguring our way of being in the world. We each have personal and collective events that will have us shedding the skin of the old so that we can be born again.

I know I’m not alone. 2024, especially this past summer, has ushered in significant change for many. Whether that change is good or bad, it often ignites fear in us all. I share this because I have consistently questioned my mental health, feeling overly sensitive and weak. I had to leave a 20-year career in healthcare because I could no longer cope with the work environment. I found it impossible to continue even for a single day. I also paused teaching yoga—something that nourished my soul—leaving me to doubt my strength while watching others continue on social media. Yet, with age comes wisdom, and as the fog begins to clear, I realize the importance of this retreat.

I spent time dancing to release pent-up emotions, I did gentle stretches to move the grief out of my body. I cried many tears and also screamed into a pillow. Most importantly, I prioritized sleep and rest, recognizing that some days, getting out of bed was a colossal task. There was a difference to this retreat, I wasn’t hiding, I was communing within. The significant lesson in feeling exhausted by life is realizing how precious your time truly is. This clarity sharpens your understanding, allowing you to act in alignment with your true self and your path forward.

I hope you have a practice or two—or even three—that offers support during your journey through the unknown. In these times of personal and collective upheaval, may this serve as a space to share insights and practices to help navigate these challenging times.

All my relations.

This article is for educational and informational purposes only. It is not, nor is it intended to be, a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment and should never be relied upon for specific medical advice.

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