Light at the end of the hallway
This work is anything but linear. Some days I feel like I'm breaking through to new understanding, others I'm back in that dark hallway, suffocating as the walls close in. But the vision reminds me that light exists beyond what I can currently see.
Today I had a vision that reminded me: breakthrough is possible, even in the most suffocating moments.
If you've been reading my previous posts, you might be aware I have been sitting with a lot of heaviness lately. This heaviness has existed for as long as I can remember, yet it is only now where I feel strong enough to address it.
I have decided to work with the plant spirit of hapé in a daily capacity to support my healing process. Hapé has been a wonderful teacher — meditating with it evokes this deep reminder of how loved I am and how deserving I am of love.
Today's abstract doodle recreates the vision I received during my practice.
I found myself in these cloudy, smoky walls — like I was trapped in a hallway of darkness. I knew I had to keep moving forward, yet somehow the shadowy corridor kept closing in around me. I had to squeeze my way through, the walls pressing closer with each step. The space grew tighter and tighter until I could barely move.
Something deep within told me that stopping meant being swallowed whole by this darkness. I didn't know if I'd survive the passage, but I knew I had to try. So I kept pushing through.
Eventually, I saw a light at the end of this dark passage. It was shimmering and vibrating as if it was inhaling and exhaling. When I finally reached it, I burst through into vast, open space — relief flooding through me like cool water.
I was reassured that recovery is possible — sometimes healing requires moving through constriction to reach expansion. And believe me when I say this: I've grown incredibly tired of being constricted.
Each day of intentionally sitting with this pain has been both devastating and miraculous. I'm learning to be grateful for the full spectrum of what arises — honoring the present sensations that ask for witnessing and gentle company.
As frustrating as it is, this work isn't linear. Some days I feel like I'm breaking through to new understanding, others I'm back in that dark hallway, suffocating as the walls close in. But the vision reminds me that light exists beyond what I can currently see.
I have trust and faith in that light always being present — if out of sight, it is just around the corner.
Tomorrow will be another day to honor what arises.
Thanks for being here,
Nadine of the New Moon ♥