One afternoon, you’re “walking along,” having an average day. Whether you’re content or not, you’re at least somewhat comfortable, because you’re following a routine. The structure of predictability feels safe.
Then, something profound happens.
Someone you love dies. You lose your job, or begin a new one. You get divorced, or you marry. You have a child. Or you develop a health issue.
Regardless of whether what happens is positive or negative, you experience an inner shift.
You become conscious of something new—or see something old in a new way—and it doesn’t fit neatly into your view of the world.
Or your role in the world changes, and you no longer quite fit in the life you’ve been living.
The old routines don’t keep you steady anymore. The signposts on your map disappear, and you stumble off the path. Then, a hand reaches up through the earth and pulls you into the underworld.
You wander around in the dark, overwhelmed and feeling lost. You fear you will never find your way home.
This is exactly where you need to be.
This is where magic lives. A part of your consciousness is going through a real death and rebirth. You’re preparing to rise like the Phoenix, and this is sacred work.
Metaphors—like the myth of the Phoenix—are a kind of magic. They communicate through story, a process so deep that it can be difficult to describe and express directly.
The underworld, like the soil, is a dark, rich place of decay, death, and growth. It needs water (tears) and light (consciousness) to bring forth something new: an insight, a new perspective, a piece of art.
Creativity is an essential part of life. It’s a core way we learn to navigate the dark places, and grow as a result. Sometimes, writing a poem is the only way to make sense of an experience. Combining images in a collage can create an aesthetic whole, out of fragmented pieces of life.
This is how we express the depth of being human. And we need this from one another.
When we bring our experiences and insights back to the community, we are like creative shamans, bringing healing to others through art.
If you have something to say—and you do—we need to hear it. We are your community. Experiencing your journey gives us hope. It helps us see we are all on our own journeys, and we are not alone.