invisible places

they are the places you return to when you forget yourself and the places you rediscover when you finally come home.

a brief preface: It has been over a month since I stopped interacting with any kind of social media app and apps in general, except for work and a few friendship chats. I had many reasons I knew, and many reasons I didn’t.

When I removed anything that filled the gaps, I stumbled into what I now call invisible places.

When you give yourself room to be bored, triggered, confused, lost, un-entertained, it becomes inevitable to meet the flesh, the mind, and the lived landscape of long-forgotten internal pathways.
In my culture we say: “the new is the long-ago forgotten old.”

Once you have chance to step nowhere but inward you discover internal geographies we move through when the outer world stays still. They are the shadow rooms if you ask Jung, implicit memories in the language of SE or elemental weather in TCM

“What else?” the question I had on repeat when I was empty, paralyzed, scared, silent … only to discover the ache behind irritation, the grief under confidence, the subtle thaw after years of bracing.

Invisible places feel like half-breath before “No”, something is off before I can explain why - the silence of realization, where intuition speaks.

They become visible when time slows enough for your system to catch up to itself. They organize themselves when there is enough room for your breath to widen. As if they are always at work - fermenting, metabolizing, decomposing - the way roots grow in winter and the seed hibernates before the spring

They are the places you return to when you forget yourself and the places you rediscover when you finally come home.

Lightbulb! This is the work I do.

Sitting across from another human, witnessing the implicit material surface - the shadow content, the unfinished emotions, the dormant intuitions. These layers reveal themselves only when internal pressure drops. They seek form when safety is available.

They need non-interference.
The presence without management.
The breath without agenda. Counterculture of letting life self-organize.

The Dao shows itself when you stop trying to name it.

xo Anastasija