For a few years now, I have been writing myself a letter on the evening of Midwinter (which usually falls on the 21st of December here in the north). And then on the next Midwinter, exactly one year later, I read that letter, and write myself a new one. It has been interesting to communicate with myself through time in this way.
This time, I wanted to share this practice with you. If it sounds interesting to you, maybe you can write yourself a letter too? And then set yourself a reminder to read it a year later.
This piece of writing is part of a more overarching goal, where I want to add some (more) spaces for reflection in this newsletter. A bit like a process diary or a behind-the-scenes look into my life. So this piece of writing is intentionally a bit more free, with less editing (not that my newsletters are heavily edited anyway).
So, here it is, a little contemplation around my year of 2025. (Note that this is quite a long newsletter, so if you’re reading through email it may appear cut off but there should be a link where you can access the rest.)
In the early months of 2025, I was in a kind of isolation mode, focused on my baby, my child, and my family. I allowed myself a total break from all projects, including writing and posting here, and I think this helped to make it more fun to get back to it later, when it was time.
In March some kind of energy burst got activated. After many months of isolation I started to experiment with posting on my platforms again, just for my own sense of fun. Mostly pictures from my stroller walks with some thoughts to accompany them.
In the spring I also started sharing old sketches of “Galactic guardians” that I’d been nervous to share before because they’re weird, might seem scary to some, and are not particularly “well-drawn”. And together with the drawings, I wrote a description based on the energy I felt connected to the guardian. You can see an example below, The Guardian of Insecurity.
Insecurity appears every now and then. It is a poor little being that feels very sorry for itself and for it’s perceived inadequacy.
Insecurity has trouble expressing itself, because it doesn’t feel safe enough to do so. It doesn’t even have a mouth.
But it has big eyes that are worriedly peering outwards. It can only see the magnificence in others, and keeps comparing itself with them. In comparing itself with others, it will only feel more insecure.
Actually, these comparisons can be used as a fuel for creativity, when seen as inspirations. But insecurity doesn’t know that. It can only see them as threats, because it is looking at them through fear.
Some days insecurity is with me, and I would just like to hide under the blanket. Or maybe even hide under the bed. Those days, I don’t want to be seen or heard by anyone.
I feel ashamed for my insecurity, because in our culture it seems we are encouraged to be out and proud and loud all the time.
But I’ve learned to appreciate the hidden wisdom of my insecurity. It reminds me about the way my energy works, in cycles. Sometimes it’s the time to be out. Sometimes it’s the time to stay in.
The challenge is letting myself embrace all the different stages, remembering that the energies shift and change.
Insecurity is an invitation to look inwards.
There’s nothing to prove. Not even anything to show (unless you want to).
It’s enough to be. Sometimes under the blanket (or under the bed.)
Today’s insecurity could just be tomorrow’s inspiration. The way my insecurity inspired me to share these words with you.
These Guardians came to function as symbols for the small but important steps in my striving to dare to open my more strange sides: the beings and energies I connect with through visions and active imagining. And letting myself write about what I was feeling in the moment, more as a free flow.
It was also an important step in sharing something just because of some strange inner need, and keeping doing so even with a “low amount” of likes. This helped me to disengage from the whole game of hunting likes. I was almost looking forward to seeing a post with zero likes, but strangely enough, that didn’t happen! So my whole view of “high” vs. “low” likes kind of evaporated. I focused more on noticing who engaged, the person behind the number. And this shift felt awesome, and made it more fun to be on those platforms again.
While I was going through this process of sharing my strange little drawings, I was sick almost all the time during spring, with some flu or the other. But deep inside, emotionally and mentally, I felt stronger than ever. I believe our illnesses are often connected to something that’s going on in our emotional, mental, or even spiritual landscapes, (at least I’ve observed that happening for me) and so, these illnesses actually felt symbologically aligned with the changes I experienced inside of me at the time.
Sometime in the spring I cut my hair shorter, which meant most of my (colored) blond hair got cut and with my original brown color left, my head suddenly looked much darker. I was shocked by the change and strongly felt that it symbolized something deeper. For a while, I missed my long blond hair, but to be honest, it had turned rough and was painful to brush, after all the coloring I had done the last few years. With the new short hair, I felt more exposed, but also lighter. Like there was space to create something new and more authenthic after the artificial coloring was cut off (though don’t take this as critique against coloring, it can look awesome! it’s just that I’m personally moving through a different stage right now.)
I feel that in this stage of nurturing and being so strongly tied to my baby, I have a looser hold of my own identity. I’m meant to be open to their signals first and foremost. It’s clear that this is some kind of an inbetween time. And I’m noticing that as my hair grows out, so my being is finding a new place for itself in this new world. And I can see how this year has largely been a process of deconstruction, to pave the way for that new Self to have space to step out, when it’s time.
As I wrote in Shedding Skins and Meandering Along, I deleted many Instagram accounts this year. I deleted my Patreon and shifted focus back to here, to my newsletter on Substack. This created a deepening motivation to write again, to share my stories in written form. At least for a while.
Coinciding with this shift towards writing more I also started to look into a system called the Gene Keys. I did their free three-day course and it was such an eye-opening experience that I decided to buy the whole Golden Path program, consisting of three courses, each focused on different aspects of life: purpose, relationships, prosperity. This program was my birthday gift for myself for this year. And as of writing this, I have completed the program, but I am still integrating the shifts.
I won’t go all too deeply into that system here (but might share more in a future post), but suffice to say, The Gene Keys presents a way of observing how your different qualities can be expressed in different ways, corresponding to three different frequency bands: shadow, gift, and siddhi (the highest, transcendental frequency). When we are existing in fear-based states, our qualities will most often be expressed through shadow frequencies, while we all have the potential to turn those shadows into gifts, as we become aware of them. But what’s more relevant for my own situation, as being on parental leave this year, the Gene Keys helped me really embrace this time period as something meaningful, because it speaks to people who are awakened into awareness as an integrated part of their everyday existence, as opposed to isolating away from life, in an attempt to reach a higher vantage point somewhere “over there”. And while I do need to spend time alone sometime, I’ve come to realize, that it is in the thick of things, in the messiness of everyday life, and most often with other people, that I most grow and learn.
Through the newfound awareness I had in the everyday, I have been able to observe when those destructive shadow expressions come up, and through observing them, I now see how my shadow behaviors serve a purpose, I see them as fertile soil from which I have learned so much about myself, about earlier childhood wounds, about the state of my nervous system, and been able to transmute my pain and the destructive expressions into a more compassionate approach to myself and to others.
In obserwing my own shadow expressions, suddenly I am made aware of how most of humanity are also acting out of fear and pain. How many adults are still wounded children, deep inside. And seeing them that way makes it hard not to be compassionate. Through these revelations, I can see how the “shadow work” I’ve done through this course has proven immensely valuable already. But it’s also been tough going. Painful processes. And of course, as with everything, it is a work in progress.
But I said I wouldn’t go deeply into that and have already written three paragraphs about the Gene Keys, so let’s shift into something different. Into play!
Over this year, (same as the previous years) there have been so much playing, through so many Lego constructions and train tracks! And paintings and artworks! I get so much of my creativity expressed through playing with my child (and now, baby/toddler too). And it can be really fun. In the process of embracing my inner child and being able to hold space for its pain, I have found that I have been able to hold space for its joy, too. And in doing so, I have actually, truly, been able to enjoy playing with my kids, in a way that I don’t think I fully had access to before. Below are some examples of what I learned in playing with them.
As for my “own” creations, I finally went back to making a few digital collages in June, because the writing has inspired me to look into my photo archives again. And it was Fun! But it also brings back so much memories to look at photos from my teenage years and 20’s. It’s glaringly obvious that I have gone through many transformations in my life. And that this year is actually simply the latest installment in a life that is colored by an experimental attitude an multiple strange and sudden shifts.
In making collages again, I noticed that my collage editing process is much faster. More intuitive and less analytical. When I only had half an hour here and there of my own time and on some evenings, inbetween of my baby waking up and needing to be comforted I don’t have time to over-think. The collages are a result of a faster, instinctive process.
It felt like my life turned upside down over the summer. But actually it was just the supportive structures I was clinging to in the form of outdated, distorted inner beliefs that were exposed. It felt like a rug was pulled from under my feet and I had to build it all up again, but with my support structures now centered on myself and on an awareness of what I actually hold true (or rather, what I choose to prioritize). This whole sequence of events coincided with a deeper surrendering into the shadow work process of the Gene keys, and now I’m actually grateful for it all. It almost felt like a divine orchestration was taking place. Just as I had embarked on that shadow work journey, I was presented with such ruptures in my way of seeing myself and my life that I could put my newfound introspective approaches to good use.
Sudden shifts are openings and opportunities, though it can hurt like hell to travel through that portal. And so, I feel all red and raw but also exhilarated to be standing on new ground with myself and my life overall.
It felt like I was pushed to clarify my values and what I stand for, and now that is the foundation from which a new way of life can grow. Throughout this process, the practice of contemplation has been like a lighthouse showing me the way through a storm. It has helped me stay sane, as I have been able to get back to center, calm enough to get back to looking for the grace and understanding, instead of staying in petty squabbles. And most importantly, all these processes have showed me a way to stand up for the child inside of me, because I’m now aware that a lot of my behaviors were coming from that child’s pain. And the only way to evolve beyond behaving like a wounded child is to start caring for that child. But this whole aspect of the story warrants its own post, so I won’t go deeper into that here.
So all in all, I’m grateful for those summer storms. But man, did it feel rough at times.
In autumn, the energies started calming. After the bright color explosion, as the leaves were falling from the trees, I noticed a sense of wistfulness, or a melancholy mood, deep at the core of my being. But it is a mature kind of melancholy that comes from the paradoxical combination of a loss of naivete + a newly reclaimed sense of childlike wonder that is firmly rooted in reality. And paradoxically, that root is made all the more stronger from the fact that I have an awareness how strange and fluid the concept of reality is.
During this year, I have experienced firsthand how the scenery seems to twist and change depending on my own state of mind. I’m aware that everyone might not agree with me on this (as they shouldn’t, because, that’s exactly the point with such a reality that has space to hold all manner of perspectives and approaches, even if they seem to contradict each other on the surface) but my life is now rooted in a deeper sense of awareness over how powerfully I affect my own reality. And how important it is for me to get my voice out there, exactly because of this differentiation.
I’m me, and I’m meant to share my view, as based on my values, so that those who resonate with it can be encouraged, but also so that those who don’t resonate can get a chance to be challenged or simply find where their own boundaries begin, meaning, they can observe what is not for them and then navigate accordingly.
It felt like these realizations helped to unleash something in me, something that had been lodged very deep. Like a layer of people-pleasing that I was unaware of that got pushed to the surface with those summer storms. And as a result, I was finally able to share some of my most vulnerable pieces of writing so far, like Narrative Mind/Fractal Mind, which is my story about one of the most painful but also strangely illuminating events that I experienced in my life.
In choosing to step up for me, and speak my truth (however strange and paradoxical it may seem), I no longer felt afraid that someone would disagree with me or that I would cause discomfort. I realized that maybe discomfort holds value, because sometimes you just need to experience the discomfort so you can grow to another level.
Because of what I sometimes call my chameleonlike qualities, I had never truly understood the importance and value of disagreeing on something. I have often felt it easy to take on another person’s perspective and so, found it pointless to stand so firmly in my own view. I didn’t even fully know/ believe that I have any view of my own.
It took me a long time to feel like I knew myself at all (and honestly, I might never fully figure it out and am probably not even supposed to do so). But now I can sense/observe that something has shifted, where I feel like there’s something that gets lost if I’m only taking on other people’s perspectives.
I’m ready to embrace the tensions that arise from choosing to live my life. Because, of course, when you choose a path, other paths fall away. When you know your values, you also know what values are in conflict with yours. And yet, even with these tensions and conflicts I can sense how it’s all part of a play of some kind, where we’re each just a small part of a shared whole.
Maybe we’ll all laugh when the play is over, when the curtains fall and the veil is opened. But right now, we’re still in it. And we have our parts to play.
On one level, I am still that chameleon that can see and even understand opposing views.
But on another level, I can recognize that some colors are starting to set, and this chameleon can’t seem to blend in as much as I used to. At least, this chameleon fits better in some scenes than others, and is tired of pretending that this is not so.
And that’s the whole point. I’m supposed to be me. Or, maybe it’s more accurate to say that I’m supposed to be playing this version of “me”, in this life.
Of course this “me” still has a pretty fluid sense of identity. But it’s not all up for grabs. It’s not all changeable. There are some values that I’m firmly rooted in. But what will grow from there, from that soil, we’ll see.
This overview of my year ended up as a contemplation of identity. Which makes sense, since I am experiencing this year, this parental leave period, a bit like a time outside of time. A dissolution of an earlier version of me and of my life so I can step into the next chapter when the scenery has been built.
For now, it feels like I’m hanging around the edges, behind the curtain or maybe just lounging around in the dressing rooms. There’s something that’s very comforting about inhabiting this transitory space. All the while, I can hear the frenetic constructions being done behind that curtain. And in some ways, I’m helping to build it. Cocreating it with the universe (?)
I have arrived to a space where I feel like something is simmering inside of me. There’s so much I want to share, so much to elaborate further. So much that is on its way up to the surface and wants to see the light of day.
But it is not the time to do so, yet. I am in this inbetween space still, in my deep process of centering into myself, into My Life.
I’m finding my way back to the ceremony of life, seeing the miraculous in the mundane.
When going through big shifts, it’s the simplest daily routines that anchor me into the present of everyday existence.
And this is what I want to leave you with. This is the ball I want throw your way, so that if you take away anything from this contemplation, may it be this:
What simple act can you do every day to celebrate your life as the miracle that it is?
Wishing you a mundanely magical midwinter.
With Love,
Minnamari
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