Journal from the Path — A Season of Reweaving

Finding Meaning in the Undoing

I’m sharing this not as an update, but as a page from my living journal —a glimpse into the season I find myself in now.

The path of healing is rarely linear. Sometimes the body, the home, and the heart unravel together so that something more honest can take their place.

This is where I am: in the midst of reweaving.

A Season of Reweaving

The undoing has moved beyond my inner world.

My kitchen, the place where I prepare nourishment, is torn open. Water seeped behind the walls and softened what once felt solid. The ceiling in my studio — my sanctuary for creating — is leaking too. Both spaces, the hearth and the altar, are under demolition at once.

I can feel the symbolism of it all. The places that have always offered safety and grounding are breaking apart just as I am learning to release my own structures of control. The noise, the dust, the intrusion — they mirror what’s happening in my body and spirit.

There’s a lesson here about nourishment and creation, about how even sacred spaces must sometimes fall apart to breathe again. Perhaps this is what the loom looks like when it reweaves the physical world — not tidy, not quiet, but profoundly alive.

I am challenged to find calm amid the hammering. To remember that this, too, is part of the weaving — the sound of old beams giving way so that light can find its way in.

I don’t know yet what will emerge when the repairs are done, or when I am. But I trust the rhythm beneath the noise. The temple is cracking open, and somewhere in the rubble, I can already hear the sound of the new loom being built.

If you find yourself in a season of undoing too, may you trust that the unraveling has purpose. The loom never stops moving, even when all you can hear is the sound of things falling apart.

With Blessings on your journey,