Spiral, Integrate and Beyond

We don’t move in straight lines—we spiral.

We don’t move in straight lines.
Not in healing, not in becoming, not in being.

We spiral.
Sometimes gracefully, sometimes messily.
We double back, we sink, we stall, we surge.

To spiral is not to fail.
To spiral is to deepen.

When we spiral, we enter uncertainty.
We descend into the dark, into the unseen.
Not to disappear, but to meet ourselves more honestly.

We meet our edges—the patterns, the stories, the identities we’ve outgrown.
We notice where we’ve clung to what no longer holds us.
Behaviours, beliefs, medications, relationships, roles.
We hold them.
We thank them.
We begin to let them go.

This descent is not collapse.
It is composting.

In the spiral, something ancient stirs.
We breathe into the marrow of our bones, the pulse of our cells,
and feel the quiet return of something true.

We meet the soft walls of our mind, not to break through but to dissolve.
We blur the boundaries that once defined us.
We become what we already are:
a living, breathing possibility.

This path—raw, rhythmic, real—is not linear.
It asks us to feel.
To integrate.
To trust that what’s beyond the mind
is not emptiness, but wholeness.