#1 Before the Breakthrough

Life in Extremes

For as long as I can remember, I've lived life in extremes. My highs soared beyond the clouds, while my lows plunged into bottomless darkness. Moments of immense happiness, success, and hope punctuated my life, but they were fleeting. No matter how desperately I clung to them, happiness always slipped through my fingers, leaving me  feeling powerless. Inevitably, the darkness would return.

I first encountered this inner darkness at a young age that would persist throughout my youth and early adulthood. At the age eleven, I confided in my teachers that I wanted to die. They were baffled; why would a child harbor such thoughts? I was equally perplexed. An inexplicable, excruciating pain and sense of unworthiness consumed me despite having a quality life and a loving family. Death seemed to be the only escape. Yet, being so young, I still had hope. There had to be reasons for my suffering and ways to overcome it.

I searched relentlessly for answers and escape routes from my suffering. In high school, I turned to what seemed like an easy solution- alcohol.  It provided a quick escape from my pain, but I also quickly plunged into the depths of its abuse. At the age of sixteen, sobriety seemed like my only true salvation.  While it certainly improved my life, the darkness persisted. Depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts continued to plague me. I was baffled.

Then, I learned from the western science of psychiatry that my darkness was a result of my clinical depression. Medication appeared to be the answer – surely antidepressants would cure me! Yet, after a decade of using medication, my suffering remained the same. The pain endured, only now masked by an ever-increasing dose of pills. My life became a series of ups and downs, punctuated by moments of hope that kept me going.  Yet, somehow, I always found myself in profound dissatisfaction and disappointment.

Searching for Answers

2022 epitomized this pattern of highs and lows. Periods of happiness and optimism alternated with episodes of depression, anxiety, and an overwhelming sense of emptiness. I buried myself in work, then retreated home to lose myself in Netflix. My ability to deeply feel others' emotions allowed me to merge with fictional characters, living vicariously through their experiences. But as each series ended, I faced the daunting task of returning to my own life and facing the void within which I didn’t know how to fill.

Little did I know at the time that restoring my sanity wasn’t about filling the void, but rather about accepting the void, leaning into it, embracing and becoming one with it.

My emotional turmoil eventually manifested physically. My digestive system rebelled, leaving me unable to eat without severe discomfort. I lost significant weight and sought help from numerous doctors, most of whom dismissed my concerns with ineffective prescriptions. One physician, however, took the time to understand. He discovered my stomach wasn't producing digestive enzymes, leaving my body starved of nutrients. The prognosis was grim: potential infertility and early-onset Alzheimer's if left untreated. I was only thirty years old.

I adhered to a strict diet and enzyme supplements, which  did help initially. But the stress of overwork soon negated any progress, culminating in the form of internal stomach bleeding. My doctor, alarmed and puzzled, warned that without vigilance, this could become a chronic, debilitating condition – a horrifying prospect for someone so young.

The Madness of Modern Life

The internal bleeding was a stark wake-up call. For the first time in years, I looked myself in the eye and confronted the brutal truth I'd been avoiding. At the age thirty, I was grappling with depression and illness, feeling aged beyond my years and dead inside. Despite loving my colleagues like family, I found no meaning or purpose in my work. The modern, capitalist way of life felt alien to me. I despised the business world with its hollow titles, ego-driven conversations, and obsession with profit and growth. None of it made sense.

As I observed the modern human existence, I saw mostly madness. We rush to offices at dawn, sacrificing self-care. We spend our days sedentary, staring at screens, desperately trying to feel important while knowing deep down that much of what we do is meaningless. We sacrifice our essence to excel at things that don't truly matter to us, to nature, or to life itself. And for what? It brings no joy. We're unhappy, dissatisfied, and physically ill.

Human beings weren't designed for this lifestyle. We're meant to move, to be in nature, to connect with each other, and to engage in meaningful pursuits. How did society reach this point? We base our self-worth on titles printed on paper, enduring years of agony to be called “manager" or any other label – a word devoid of intrinsic value. We measure ourselves by our branded possessions, using these artificial markers to separate ourselves from others in a misguided attempt to feel special. In the end, we're left disconnected, lonely, depressed, and hollow.

This way of living breeds negative thoughts and beliefs that make us sick. We rush to doctors and consume medications, but they don't address the root cause. It's not our bodies that are broken; it's our way of life, our way of thinking. I couldn't make sense of it.  Yet, there I was, mired in the madness.  Desperate to escape, but lacking the courage to do so.

A Moment of Stillness

Amidst my chaotic life, I often recalled a Vipassana meditation retreat I attended at a Buddhist temple in northern Thailand four years prior. Despite my privileged background of luxurious travels, this simple experience stands out as the most impactful of my life.

The temple welcomed guests free of charge, providing only a thin mat, pillow, and blanket for sleeping on the floor. Days began at four in the morning with chores, rituals, meditation, and simple meals. I chose to maintain complete silence for five days, abstaining from speech, technology, reading, or any form of external stimulation. I was entirely alone with myself in nature.

The first two days were challenging. My back ached from sitting on the floor, and I craved stimulation, feeling irritable and restless. But, on the third day, something profound shifted. I awoke to a quiet mind, free from the usual cacophony of thoughts. All that existed was the present moment. I experienced an unprecedented inner peace.

I felt the sun's warmth with my entire being, not just sensing it, but becoming one with it. My ego dissolved, and I experienced a divine oneness with everything around me. There was no separation between myself and the world; we were one. All that remained was life, light, and love.

This rare, precious moment inspired a profound change within me. For the first time, I felt whole. I understood viscerally that all we need exists within us. Peace, power, joy, and happiness are internal states, not external acquisitions. I had discovered a superpower – the ability to find contentment regardless of external circumstances.

I left the temple transformed. Having been on antidepressants for a decade, with psychiatrists believing I'd need medication for life, I stopped taking them after just five days of silence and meditation. My psychiatrist was astonished by my improvement and joy, achieved simply through nightly meditation and mindful presence. This experience eroded my faith in Western approaches to mental health, which often reduce complex human experiences to labels and medication without addressing root causes. The temple retreat proved that there were alternative paths to healing, beyond the temporary numbing effect of pills.

Watering the Garden

For a while, I maintained my inner joy through meditation and self-care. However, upon re-entering the business world, I slowly lost touch with my true self, allowing modern life's madness to consume me once again. This taught me the importance of regular practice.

Many of us seek big, life changing experiences when we’ve been struggling for so long. We want to meet a shaman, a healer or attend a ceremony and emerge as a new person, completely transformed. Yet when it comes to daily, regular practice we fall short. We don’t want to put in the daily work. We don’t want slow change. We want a big breakthrough. I had this big breakthrough and did come out of a single experience completely transformed. Yet I went back to my old ways and old thinking because I stopped my daily practice. I learned that even when you have life-changing experiences or big transformations, the only way to sustain these changes is through regular practice.

Miracles can happen in our inner garden, but we need to tend to and water our garden to keep the miracles alive.

Unfortunately I fell short and abandoned my garden. Depression and anxiety crept back, but I clung to the memory of my temple experience, dreaming of one day leaving everything behind to become a monk. Since my transformative experience at the Buddhist temple, I felt an undeniable calling towards the spiritual world, but fear held me back. What would people say if I, a highly educated, successful, career-driven woman, abandoned everything to pursue this path? I had long defined myself by my resume and achievements. I prided myself on being a woman of science and logic. The prospect of leaving it all behind to become "no one" was terrifying. To fill my life with what I once dismissed as nonsensical talk of energy and spirits seemed absurd.

I grappled with the potential judgment from others. How would they perceive me if I traded my carefully cultivated professional identity for a life devoted to spirituality? Despite being blessed with the resources and privileges to make this leap, finding the courage to do so seemed insurmountable. In hindsight, I realized that my fear of others' opinions was really a fear of losing my own carefully constructed identity. The labels I had accumulated – successful, logical, career-driven – had become a comfortable prison, shielding me from the vulnerability of true self-discovery. The prospect of shedding these labels was both liberating and terrifying. Yet, the memory of that moment of pure existence in the temple continued to call to me.

Breaking Free

Ironically, it was the internal bleeding that finally gave me the courage to change. I'm eternally grateful for this health crisis; it propelled me towards the life I'd always dreamed of. Standing before the mirror, I made a vow to myself: "I refuse to continue living a life that makes me sick and unhappy just because it's comfortable. I choose to live authentically, aligned with my values. I reject the lie of powerlessness and the notion that I'm obligated to live a certain way just because that’s how the world or society is. I am not powerless; I am full of potential, and I will make my dreams come true.”

With newfound resolve, I decided to sell my house and embark on a journey around the world, seeking to explore what my dream life looked like. Solo travel had always provided me with the space for introspection and self-discovery. Each journey to a foreign land yielded profound insights about myself. I listed my house for sale, anticipating a 2-3 month selling period given the price. Realtors deemed these expectations unrealistic. The house sold within two weeks— as if the universe was endorsing my decision and urging me forward.

The sudden sale caught me off guard. Still grappling with illness, I questioned my ability to travel. As the reality of my decision set in, I began experiencing anxiety attacks. Doubts flooded my mind: Was I crazy? Where would I live? I had no destination, no plans. How could I have made such a radical decision? Was I sure? Had I thought it through? Was I losing my mind?

As a lifelong controlling workaholic, the prospect of venturing into the unknown terrified me. In the midst of this turmoil of sickness and anxiety, a trusted friend suggested I consult a spiritual advisor she knew. "You're going through major changes," she said. "This advisor might be able to help guide you through this process." Desperate for help, I agreed enthusiastically. And this is how my path led me to Roko- someone who would become an integral part of my spiritual journey.

Urala