Between who I was and who I am becoming
If you’ve read my recent blogs, you already know I’ve been experiencing some strange and profound inner healing moments. A rising kundalini has taken place, and since then, I’ve gone through the deepest releases so far. All the lower chakras, the heart chakra, and the throat chakra have had their turn for healing, and slowly but surely, the energy is rising more and more to my third eye and crown chakra. This blog, however, is not about the journey itself, but about the place I find myself in right now, and have been in for the past two weeks, a place where so many stored traumas, emotions, and patterns have been released that it feels almost empty inside. And this is the strangest feeling…
The most uncomfortable days
The days of healing were, obviously, intense. So many emotions; sadness, anger, and everything in between, rose to the surface to be felt and healed, and I found myself looking forward to the moment it would all be behind me. And now it is, for a big part. But, funnily enough, the most uncomfortable days have been the ones where I felt… nothing. After weeks upon weeks of intense healing, I finally got a break, and yet it didn’t feel great. I noticed I had no idea what to do with my time. My ego felt completely lost in the space created by so much healing. I’m talking about months and months of extreme purging, every single day. And now, the space that opened up isn’t yet filled with new manifestations that align with the new me.
No identity
“Who am I?” This question has always been both fascinating and challenging. But these days, I literally felt like I had no identity left. The kundalini had released everything that was no longer in alignment with my authentic self. And now, there was nothing. The dreams I once had no longer felt right. It felt as though my entire life up until now had been built on patterns and beliefs I had created, not on my true self. But at the same time, I couldn’t yet clearly sense what the new me truly wants. All I could feel was my ego, struggling to exist in this space of nothingness.
Nothing felt good
I tried different things to see what might feel right, like making music or eating certain foods I used to enjoy. But could fill the space inside. In my growing desperation, I decided to have a beer to cope with it all, even though I rarely drink. After just two sips, my body felt sick, it didn’t want alcohol anymore. Even the foods I used to enjoy didn’t feel satisfying. Nothing, absolutely nothing, felt good or right, and it left me in a place of despair. I cried my eyes out because there was nothing else I could do. This went on for hours, maybe even an entire day. But after that big release, I started to let go and surrender to this place of nothingness.
The new me has begun to emerge
In the past few days, slowly but surely, the new me has begun to emerge. I’ve felt moments of deep trust in my future. I’ve had visions of what it might look like, and a new sense of purpose is arising. Never in my life did I think writing would feel so natural, so healing, so… me. To be honest, I’ve never really written before, and I even believed I wasn’t capable of it after my high school teacher told me I wasn’t good at it. I’m not saying I’m good at it now, but I am saying it feels natural, freeing, and incredibly empowering. Who knows? Maybe this is just temporary, or maybe it will evolve into something greater than I can imagine right now.
Things will fall into place
Why am I writing all this? Because I know I’m not the only one experiencing immense healing, or even a kundalini awakening. I know others might also reach a point where they’ve healed so much that they feel completely empty, as if their identity has fallen away. From my own experience, I can say this isn’t an easy feeling, because the ego tries to protect you, desperately clinging on, unsure of where all of this is leading. But for anyone going through this: it’s temporary. Things will fall into place once you surrender to this deeply uncomfortable place, the in-between.
x, Maura
Written by Maura ten Hoopen, founder and music producer at Restful Mind.