For a long time, I measured my life in milestones.
What I achieved.
What I completed.
What I moved past.
But life kept reminding me: nothing truly ends, it cycles.
Cycle taught me to stop living as if life should move forward in a straight line.
Instead, life moves in spirals—return, deepen, refine, integrate.
When old themes resurfaced, I used to judge myself. Not this again. Haven’t I already worked through this?
Now I recognise : I’m not going backwards. I’m meeting the same lesson from a higher level of consciousness, a refinement is here calling me.
The spiral brought me back to familiar territory, but I was no longer the same woman standing there.
Endings Are Part of the Design
Cycle gave me permission to rest inside change.
I learned that contraction prepares expansion.
Rest fertilises creation.
Surrender restores harmony.
When I stopped resisting endings, grief moved faster. Clarity arrived sooner. Trust deepened.
I began to see completion not as loss, but as the exhale before the next breath.
Honouring My Own Life Cycles
This principle invited me to honour seasons of visibility and seasons of retreat. Seasons of building and seasons of integration.
Not all cycles are meant to be productive. Some are meant to be digestive.
I learned to release the urgency to always be in bloom, to trust that winter’s dormancy was preparing spring’s emergence, even when I couldn’t see the growth happening beneath the surface.
When I trusted cycles, I stopped forcing outcomes.
Peace arrived not because life became predictable, but because I trusted the intelligence moving through it.
I stopped needing to know when things would shift. I stopped trying to rush the harvest or extend the bloom beyond its natural time.
I surrendered to life’s timing and found a peace I could never plan.
A Lived Inquiry
Instead of asking: Why is this happening now?
Try asking: What cycle am I currently in—and how can I honour it.
Embodied Integration
Living in harmony with cycles means trusting timing, allowing completion, releasing urgency.
Life always knows when to turn the wheel.
Our work is not to control the turning, but to move with it—to let ourselves be held by rhythms larger and wiser than our individual will.
Closing Reflection
I no longer rush life to bloom.
I trust the season I’m in.
And in that trust, I find myself exactly where I need to be.