Why Getting Blindsided by Your Own Delusion Is the Medicine
(And why it feels like an existential crisis instead of a breakthrough—at first)
It seems that January is kicking off our New Year by ending with dramatic flair!
Before exiting stage left, it punctuates it's close with a Mic Drop by leaving us holding a Good-bye gift that looks and feels more like a live grenade, than well wishes for a great year.
There is nothing gentle about what is happening right now. Bitter as it may seem, the "grenade" serves not only as the challenges we are facing, but also as the medicine.
For many people, January didn’t fade out—it collapsed inward. Plans unraveled. Certainty dissolved. Old strategies stopped working. Even those who are emotionally intelligent, spiritually fluent, and deeply self-aware are finding themselves disoriented.
That matters.
Because this isn’t a personal failure.
It’s a collective threshold.
When something you believed—about who you are, what’s safe, what’s possible, or how life works—can no longer be maintained, the nervous system doesn’t interpret that as growth.
It interprets it as danger.
That’s why existential disruption feels like:
- fog instead of clarity
- emotional volatility without an obvious cause
- the loss of your usual internal “maps”
- the unsettling sense that you can’t go back, but you don’t yet know how to go forward
This is what happens when illusion collapses faster than identity can reorganize.
And here’s the part most people resist: The breakdown isn’t the problem. It’s the crossing point.
When a system is preparing to rewire, it cannot continue running the same programs.
From a physiological perspective, this looks like:
- diminished access to autopilot
- difficulty making decisions that used to feel easy
- increased sensitivity, emotional reactivity, or fatigue
- The instinct is to fix this—to override it with discipline, distraction, or effort.
But if the old exits still worked, you wouldn’t be here.
They’re blocked because continuing to use them would cost you something essential.
This phase doesn’t respond to force. It responds to participation.
Thresholds are not crossed by control.
They are crossed by:
- honesty instead of performance
- presence instead of strategy
- listening instead of pushing
And critically, they require regulated input for a nervous system under strain.
That’s where pleasure and creativity enter—not as indulgence, but as medicine.
Real pleasure—embodied, creative, internally generated pleasure—restores coherence.
- It brings the system out of survival.
- It re-engages intuition.
- It reminds the body that aliveness and safety can coexist.
This is not distraction. This is reconnection.
Creativity, in particular, is sovereignty in motion. It is the capacity to take what is present and alchemize something new—without requiring certainty, permission, or proof.
Inside of a time that can leave us feeling completely untethered, (um, I loved The Matrix, but wasn't really looking for a first-hand "Neo" experience!), there are some questions worth sitting with:
Instead of asking, “How do I get back to normal?”
Try asking:
“What part of me can’t come with me anymore?”
And then:
“What brings me back into my body and into truth—without needing to perform or justify my existence?”
Follow that.
Even if it feels small.
Even if it doesn’t make sense yet.
This isn’t gentle work.......But it is meaningful.
And the discomfort you’re feeling isn’t evidence that something is wrong.
It’s evidence that something false is dissolving.
That’s the medicine:
Bitter going down.
Transformative once integrated.
Sending Much Love and Encouragement!
We are all in this together xo
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