The Strange Art of Starting Again

At some point, we all become strangers to our own life for a little while.

Not dramatically. Certainly Not “standing in the rain while cinematic music plays” dramatically. It's a tad more subtly than that.

One day you just realise the version of yourself that once fit so neatly into a certain chapter… doesn’t anymore. 

The relationship changed and the future you quietly built in your head dissolved without asking permission. The things you once tolerated suddenly feel heavier than they used to.

And for a while, everything feels slightly haunted. You still do normal things like the responsible adult. Still gotta reply to emails, still have to get groceries.

But underneath it all, your nervous system is treating a delayed text message like a developing geopolitical situation.

We’ve all been there. I know I have.

I could be wrong but I think most relationships fail because two people meet before either of them has met themselves. 

Maybe heartbreak is just the universe violently removing people who were blocking your evolution.

Okay wait, that sounded like I own three tarot decks and a pet raven.
What I mean is, sometimes things ending turns out to be good for you later.

What I really mean is the rubble is actually compost for the version of you who blooms into something intoxicating and a little dangerous to anyone allergic to audacity.

You cant write a love story if you dont know who the author is. 
The future you were mentally living inside suddenly feels like somebody else’s Pinterest board. 

Maybe it's time to cancel the subscriptions that we accidentally started with everyones approval. 

Also, while we are are, we should probably acknowledge the tripod.
It has done irreversible damage to modern spirituality. 
I’ve seen people embody peace, softness and higher consciousness for exactly the duration of a recording, then immediately return to being annoyed by the waiter bringing oat milk.

What I can say is it is NOT turning yourself into a motivational podcast with beige captions about healing journeys.

It’s admitting and softening.

Dont tell me you trust your “gut” when you ignore your own breath because in my opinion, “intuition” is just inflammation screaming like a smoke alarm because you haven’t opened a window in years.

There’s trust in that. Human trust.

Maybe it's just the poet in me, but clearly articulating your truth without swinging it at my throat is one helluva aphrodisiac

And maybe that’s what healing actually is.

Not becoming untouchable. Not “winning” the breakup. Not emerging from hardship as some glowing enlightened monk floating six inches above the earth.

Healing is just slowly becoming someone who no longer needs to abandon themselves to keep somebody else comfortable.

It's learning that peace is more valuable than being chosen. (Read that again)

It’s understanding that some chapters only existed to introduce you to the next version of yourself.

Because eventually, almost annoyingly, life begins again. The new chapter arrives quietly and  usually disguised as ordinary life.

A calmer nervous system. Better instincts. A deeper trust in yourself.
Slightly fewer emotional hostage negotiations happening internally before your boiled egg.

Because the truth is, none of us really know what we’re doing.

This is partly why we make the oils. Not to fix heartbreak or unlock enlightenment. Mostly just to soften the static a little while people go through the deeply bizarre experience of being alive.

And honestly? That’s enough.