The quote came through in a conversation—unplanned, unfiltered, quietly thunderous:
“You have to go into the darkness to meet your becoming.”
It landed in my body before my mind caught up.
Because I’ve lived it.
Because I’m still living it.
We talk about transformation like it’s a sunrise.
But it’s not.
It’s more like a cave.
It doesn’t arrive in golden beams and clarity.
It begins in the void.
A space of unknowing. Of undoing. Of sitting still long enough for the noise to quiet and the truth to begin whispering its way through.
The darkness I’m talking about isn’t suffering.
It’s not chaos.
It’s not punishment.
It’s the quiet, sacred space within you.
It’s where the rich soil of becoming lives.
It’s where everything you thought you were begins to dissolve, not in violence, but in devotion.
The world doesn’t teach us to do this.
It teaches us to keep moving.
To distract.
To fix.
To numb.
To scroll.
To perform.
To optimize.
But real transformation can’t be optimized.
It has to be lived.
Felt.
Trusted.
Going into the darkness is your consent to be changed.
It is the pause before the rebirth.
The deep inhale before you begin again.
To sit in stillness—without a plan, without a timeline—is one of the bravest acts I know.
Because when you strip away the doing, what’s left is just you.
Your breath.
Your longing.
Your ache.
Your essence.
The quiet hum of a self that wants to be met.
You must receive yourself into the void as the fertilizer for transformation.
You must allow what has been to compost.
To loosen its grip.
To break down so something new can take seed.
This is less about effort and more about invitation.
Less about striving and more about surrender.
It’s intimate.
It’s uncomfortable.
It’s real.
And it is the birthplace of everything worth becoming.
Here’s the part that hurts a little:
Even the purest love, the brightest dream, the most soul-aligned path, requires courage.
Because to accept a gift that big… means risking a wound that deep.
True love? It will ask for your whole heart.
True purpose? It will ask for your whole self.
You don’t get to receive the fullness of life without risking your own fullness in return.
But here’s the gift inside the grief:
The more of yourself you risk…
The more beauty you’re able to hold.
The more you trust…
The more clearly the path reveals itself.
So I’ll ask you what I’ve been asking myself:
Are you willing to go into the darkness to meet your becoming?
To sit with it.
To hold space for it.
To be curious about it.
To wait as it gestates and grows?
This is the altar of creation.
And the you that emerges from this darkness?
That you won’t be the same.
That you will be truer.
Softer.
Wilder.
More whole.
They will be the you who remembers why they came.
P.S. If you’re in the middle of that in-between. If you feel something falling away but don’t know what’s next, and you want support navigating the uncertainty, I have coaching spots open right now.
This is where we slow down.
This is where we listen.
This is where we meet what’s waiting for you.
👉 [Book a session here.]
