after the breaking: what clarity asks of us
Clarity began the moment every story I was holding onto stopped protecting me.
the beginning
For the past few years, I have been taking apart almost everything in my life.
The real beginning was my diagnosis in 2020. It forced me to stop. It forced me to listen. My body had been telling the truth long before I was willing to hear it.
I was also trying to have children and could feel how hostile my environment was to the kind of creation I wanted. I was working constantly. Leading trainings. Speaking. Running workshops. That kind of work demands physical stamina and emotional presence. My body was done. My spirit was done. I needed rest. I needed slowness.
I did not know what came next. The path ahead felt blurry. Friendships felt unstable. Work felt hollow. I was helping people inside organizations while watching those same organizations create the harm they were trying to solve.
So I stopped pretending. I stopped performing strength. I started telling the truth.
I stopped taking on work that did not match what I believed in. I stepped away from people who only wanted the appearance of change. I refused to act like companies were benevolent when their structures were built to extract.
Little by little, things became clearer.
It was not gentle. It was like walking out of a fog and having to squint because the world was brighter than I remembered. And once my eyes adjusted, I started noticing everything. Where I was overgiving. Where I was staying out of loyalty instead of truth. Where I was hoping someone or something would finally become what it never was.
Clarity came from facing the truth I did not want to face.
From seeing people and systems exactly as they are.
When the noise finally lifted, I could see what was mine to do. My path was not inside the old systems. My work was to help people wake up from them. To help them untangle the illusions that block clear vision.
the collective mirror
What happened inside me is happening everywhere.
It might look like chaos. It is not. It is awakening.
People are waking up from the belief that community can exist inside systems designed for competition. They are waking up from the belief that language, politeness, and branding can heal racism or xenophobia. They are waking up from the belief that civility means goodness.
It feels disorienting because it is disillusionment.
We are seeing the gap between the stories we inherited and the realities that have always been true.
The surface is cracking, but the truth underneath it has been steady this whole time.
When enough people see through illusion at the same time, it looks like collapse.
What is collapsing is the lie.
the practice of facing
If you are in that in-between space, where the old story is gone and the new one has not formed yet, begin here.
Clarity comes from facing, not fixing.
1. name the illusion
What story did you cling to because it helped you feel safe?
Examples:
“My job is secure.”
“This friendship is mutual.”
“If I am kind enough, they will see me.”
2. count the cost
What has it cost you to keep that story alive?
3. tell the truth
Write what is actually true.
Do not overthink it. Put it on paper.
4. feel it
Truth hurts because it is clean.
Let it land, then breathe.
5. act from what is real
Choose one small action that honors what you now see.
A boundary. A decision. A pause.
That is all it takes to begin again.
To help you practice this work, I created the clarity check, a guided ritual for people who are done performing clarity and ready to live it.
Become a paid subscriber to access the full practice.
what clarity really is
Clarity is not a reward.
It is what remains when you stop lying to yourself.
It is the quiet that follows the collapse.
It is the strength that grows when your inner world and outer world finally match.
Maybe this moment is calling all of us to stop pretending everything is fine and start seeing what is actually there.
The world is not falling apart.
The mask is falling away.
What is breaking is the illusion of civility and control.
What is emerging is truth.
Clarity does not come from looking harder.
It comes from no longer looking away.
This is the place I write from now.
The space between what was and what is becoming.
The space where you can hold love and disappointment at the same time.
Where you can see reality clearly without losing faith in possibility.
If you feel disoriented, you are not lost.
You are finally seeing clearly.