Transformation requires a cocoon.

Photo Credit: Anas Qtiesh | Published in “Change Your Mind, Change Your Life“

Burnout caused my career to crash and crumble. Then, I discovered narcissism in my birth family and began healing from decades of abuse. Then, my meditation-based community home turned out to be a cult. 

Sprinkle that recipe with sexual abuse plus purity culture recovery, and you have one intense “Dark Nights of the Soul.” It’s a phrase traced back to the 16th century that mostly means a spiritual crisis. The life you knew has collapsed, and darkness results. 

“What are you doing now?” 

I’d written about leaving my successful UX career in 2021, and while most people resonated with my insights on the tech industry, a few asked that ugly question. 

The question terrified me. I don’t know. Crying. Basically, that’s what I was doing. I didn’t know what was next. I just knew that my overwhelming tech job was not it. 

Up to that point, I’d spent most of my life seeking and achieving various milestones. I got straight A’s, created an ideal resume, and built credibility in my field, for example. 

I’d been a super-planner. Seriously. I not only knew my answer to, “Where do you see yourself in five years?” I’d created a blueprint. In a polished infographic, I spelled out quarterly milestones, metrics, and my “Why” for each one. I even shared it with very impressed friends. 

Looking back, I wouldn’t be where I am now if it weren’t for the utter chaos that ensued this full life breakdown. My outer world, the metaphorical skyline I’d created, needed to disintegrate so that I’d have no choice but to make massive shifts. I was a spiritual caterpillar, and I needed to crawl into a mysterious cocoon before emerging as the beautiful butterfly I’ve become. 

Approaches like shadow work tools and my reignited creative process gave me stepping stones to move forward, one step at a time. See, dark nights offer seriously valuable rewards. Through great resistance, I’ve grown to love what I’ve been through. 

***

Transformation requires chaos and uncertainty.

As I was leaving the job, I started engaging in shadow work. A dear friend introduced me to the concept, and we began working through an online course together, which feels kind of hilarious in retrospect. Like, what an organized, structured, studious approach to such a chaotic, mystical inner process like traversing your unconscious landscape. 

Unsurprisingly, I quickly felt overwhelmed by our adventure and found a Jungian depth therapist to help me sort through the seemingly endless layers of buried anger, rage, and harmful beliefs. The great thing about shadow work is that you’ll also find hidden gems or strengths you repressed. For example, I discovered serious leadership qualities that hadn’t aligned with my toxic sexist upbringing. 

Like my other life projects, I spent months pushing to do healing work efficiently, in a calculated and methodical way. However, as you may already know, trauma healing and emotions don’t work that way. The unraveling occurs in a less linear and more spiral fashion. 

Should I have a plan? Maybe. Isn’t that what people do when they take work sabbaticals? Since I’d also been burning out in my personal life with the cult situation, I just really didn’t know. I told my therapist that I was sick and tired of feeling small and lonely. It’s a statement that seemed to speak from somewhere deep within, like a soft voice eager to feel heard. 

Let’s be clear, I had done some planning before I quit my job. After paying off the loans I’d taken to do the UX boot camp, I’d started saving nearly half my income. I’d also been tracking monthly expenses for years and consistently aligning my spending with my core values. With hefty savings and low monthly costs, I knew I could afford the not knowing for well over a year. 

***

So, I made healing work my primary focus, and the second I opened the door, so many skeletons came pouring out from the closet of my unconscious mind. Despite my extroverted personality, I became mostly reclusive, and not just because of the global pandemic. 

I didn’t know it was okay to hang out in a cocoon without knowing what would happen next. I felt shame, embarrassed that I couldn’t answer such a simple question like “What are you doing now?” without having an emotional breakdown. 

Thankfully, my therapist recommended Thomas Moore’s “Dark Nights of the Soul” book, which made so much sense. Apparently, extended periods of uncertainty and inner chaos are quite common, even beautiful, like a rite of passage. One of my favorite feminist authors, Elizabeth Lesser, also covers the topic in depth in “Broken Open.” 

Maybe what our culture deems a “major depressive episode” more often suggests a spiritual crisis, a stony path towards a deeper life purpose. 

“During the dark night there is no choice but to surrender control, give in to unknowing, and stop and listen to whatever signals of wisdom might come along. It’s a time of enforced retreat and perhaps unwilling withdrawal. The dark night is more than a learning experience; it’s a profound initiation into a realm that nothing in the culture, so preoccupied with external concerns and material success, prepares you for,” wrote Moore.

Rather than shame and embarrassment about my life situation, I could stop feeling like something was wrong with me. Maybe something was very right. Perhaps this excruciating chaos was also beautiful–if only I could alter my perspective. Maybe I was actually pretty brave.

***

The Universe has your back.

Okay, four years ago, I would laugh at myself for writing that statement. After growing up religious, I grew skeptical in college. My early conservative Christian teachings seemed stale, strange when I realized how earnestly others followed completely different beliefs. 

I mean, many church-goers seemed like incredible, loving humans, and they are. Were they wrong to follow Jesus and devote themselves to the church? I didn’t know that they were wrong; I also didn’t know that they were “right,” whatever that means. 

Oh, then there was the time when I got “spiritual” and stayed at a hippy commune right after college. I immersed myself in my yoga practice, “good vibes,” and, of course, a large dose of marijuana. I even began teaching yoga at a local gym, while I was still dabbling in several addictive and destructive behaviors. 

Then I moved to San Francisco, joined chanting circles, and at some point started feeling like all the hippies were weird as hell. I didn’t want to be lazy or live in a tent, so I got into tech work and productivity culture instead. What a pendulum swing. 

As you know, that massive swing led to my devastating career burnout. No amount of planning, preparation, or savings could soothe my mounting anxieties. Believe me, I tried.  

So when I left the job to journey into the unknown, synchronicities began entering my life. Or at least, that’s when I started paying attention.

As my fairy writer friend pointed out, “Faith plays a huge part in getting through the cocoon phase.” I guess I had just enough faith in a more meaningful reality that I began seeing the signs. Like, a certain beautiful red book that showed up randomly–or synchronously–in my life right when I needed it. 

***

Creativity soothes trauma healing.

I’d been on a neighborhood walk, listening to abuse recovery literature, when I saw the red book lying free on the sidewalk. Flipping through the pages, I saw content about anger and jealousy, which seemed relevant. Plus, the author seemed like an accomplished woman, and I’d been eager for more female role models. 

Julia Cameron’s “The Artist’s Way” creative recovery program book continues to be the literary resource I most often recommend to others. I guess I was ready for a new project because I dove right in and worked through all 12 weeks, navigating the assignments quite thoroughly. 

Within the first few weeks, I began writing and publishing again. Like, very hesitantly. Aside from two short-lived blog projects I’d started after college, I’d rarely written in my own voice. I’d published my writing as a journalist for four years, and I’d also worked in content marketing. Reconnecting to my authentic writing voice definitely helped me heal. 

In the dark nights book, Moore encourages creative expression as a path forward. Using metaphors and poetic language to describe your inner experience helps you integrate.

“If you are highly neurotic, or worse, you don’t have to become normal and healthy to live a creative and loving life. You can learn to transform your insanity into eccentricity,” encouraged Moore.

Nearly four years later, my writing and songwriting continue evolving. Feels like I’m blossoming, accessing more gold from the darkness. I’m integrating my inner and outer worlds. I listen for organic expansion opportunities. 

Finding my way to my center through all the pain is how I’m now able to connect far more deeply with others. 

“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it,” said Rumi. 

This quote showed up in my life repeatedly, synchronously. First, through a witch book I’d been reading. Author Mya Spalter opens the chapter on “Attraction Magic” with Rumi’s quote. Then, soon after, my local yoga teacher shared it several times during multiple classes. I heard it. 

Healing ourselves naturally attracts more love into our lives, and really, healing creativity is about nurturing our relationship with God. I now engage in many daily spiritually grounding rituals like meditation, conscious movement, and journaling. Many people have commented on how level and grounded I seem. I keep letting something greater shine through my expression.  

From Cameron’s suggestion, I crafted a beautiful, gaudy artist’s altar (well, multiple), and I keep showing up to create. That’s really the hardest part. 

***

“If you are lost, may you understand that we are all lost, and still we are guided– by Strange Angels and Sleeping Giants, by our better and kinder natures, by the vibrant voice within the beat. May you follow that voice, for This is the way– the hero’s journey, the life worth living, the reason we are here,” wrote Lesser in “Broken Open.” 

Now, more than one dear friend is experiencing a notable Dark Nights of the Soul. Because of my journey, I can hold space and offer a believing mirror through the process. I can show up with acceptance to witness the roller coaster journeys that unfold. 

There’s nothing wrong with you, and so much right. You have everything you need to move forward. It’s safe to surrender to something greater than yourself. Pray and listen for answers. Keep showing up, and everything will make sense.