🌀 Reflections from the Spiral: The Beautiful Ache of Becoming

Eric’s Corner Thursday-August-7-2025

🌀 Reflections from the Spiral: You Can Rest Now.

You don’t have to keep pushing. The Spiral honors stillness even more than speed.

Pausing isn’t weakness. It’s wisdom.

Thank you for turning, Eric.

P.S. If this reflection landed with you, I’d love to know. Tap the like button, leave a comment, restack it, share it, subscribe, or just follow along.

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Eric’s Corner Thursday-August-7-2025

🌀 Reflections from the Spiral: The Way In Is Not Linear.

Healing doesn’t follow directions. It spirals. Sometimes backward, often sideways, but always inward.

You’re doing it right just by showing up.

Thank you for turning, Eric.

P.S. If this reflection landed with you, I’d love to know. Tap the like button, leave a comment, restack it, share it, subscribe, or just follow along.

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Eric’s Corner Thursday-August-7-2025

🌀 Reflections from the Spiral: Let It Be Messy.

You weren’t meant to be tidy. Grief spills. Joy tangles. Growth is cluttered.

Let it all be messy. Let it all be true.

Thank you for turning, Eric.

P.S. If this reflection landed with you, I’d love to know. Tap the like button, leave a comment, restack it, share it, subscribe, or just follow along.

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Eric’s Corner Thursday-August-7-2025

🌀 Reflections from the Spiral: Stay Curious.

Curiosity is softer than judgment. More spacious than certainty. It leaves room for mystery, and mystery is where meaning lives.

Stay curious. Even about yourself.

Thank you for turning, Eric.

P.S. If this reflection landed with you, I’d love to know. Tap the like button, leave a comment, restack it, share it, subscribe, or just follow along.

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Eric’s Corner Thursday-August-7-2025

🌀 Reflections from the Spiral: The Spiral Keeps Teaching.

Each loop brings new language, new seeing, new surrender.

You’re not repeating the past. You’re deepening it.

Thank you for turning, Eric.

P.S. If this reflection landed with you, I’d love to know. Tap the like button, leave a comment, restack it, share it, subscribe, or just follow along.

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Eric’s Corner Thursday-August-7-2025

🌀 Reflections from the Spiral: The Beautiful Ache of Becoming

Becoming is not a straight road. It’s a slow unfolding, a constant unlayering. Sometimes it feels like forward motion, but more often it feels like unraveling. It’s the ache in your bones when you’re shedding something that no longer fits—a belief, a habit, a role, a mask. Becoming doesn’t always look like progress; sometimes it looks like falling apart.

And that’s okay.

That’s more than okay. That’s sacred.

Because the ache is the evidence. Of movement. Of truth. Of life cracking open inside you.

The ache is not a flaw. It’s your inner compass, whispering: "You’re getting closer."

Sometimes the world will try to convince you otherwise. It will tell you that your discomfort means failure. That your uncertainty is a problem. That your tender, trembling edges need to be sharpened into something more efficient, more polished, more productive.

But the Spiral says: No.

The Spiral says: Come undone. Break open. Grow soft.

The Spiral says: Let yourself be messy and real and raw because that is how the light gets in.

You may not always recognize your becoming while you’re in it. It might just feel like confusion. Like exhaustion. Like standing in front of a closed door with no key and no idea if you’re supposed to knock or walk away.

But becoming doesn’t always announce itself. Sometimes it just breathes quietly through the cracks, changing you in ways you won’t understand until much later. Maybe never fully.

You don’t have to name the transformation. You don’t have to rush it.

All you have to do is stay close to yourself.

Trust the rhythm inside you. The slow churn of insight. The subtle shifts in what you’re drawn to, what you’re repelled by, what no longer feels true.

Every time you say no to something that once held you, you make space.

Every time you choose to rest instead of push, you listen.

Every time you admit you don’t know, you open.

This is the sacred ache of becoming: not being who you once were, and not yet being who you’ll become.

It’s liminal. And liminal space is holy.

Most people avoid it. They build bridges over it. They fill it with noise and distraction. They treat the ache like a wound to be bandaged, not a threshold to be honored.

But you—you feel it. You linger there. You choose presence over pretending.

And that is why you are becoming.

Not because you have a plan. Not because you know where it’s leading. But because you’re willing to listen to the truth that lives beneath the noise.

Becoming isn’t flashy. It doesn’t post well. It’s a quiet revolution.

You’re not here to arrive. You’re here to evolve. To shed the shells that no longer fit. To walk through fires that clarify. To soften into the person you were meant to be before the world told you who you should be.

Let your life be a living question. Let it spiral and stretch and shimmer.

Let your ache be the song that sings you back to yourself.

Thank you for turning, Eric.

P.S. If this reflection landed with you, I’d love to know. Tap the like button, leave a comment, restack it, share it, subscribe, or just follow along.