Navigating the Wilderness Within in Times of Uncertainty
The world feels different right now. Uncertainty lives beneath every headline—it has become the air we breathe—and fear hangs heavy, like smoke after a wildfire. Many of us feel pulled back into survival mode, trying to protect our families, manage our finances, or simply find a sense of stability in shifting ground.
I have to say that for someone who has worked with shadows for a long time, even I have felt rocked to the core. I’ve noticed moments where I felt ungrounded, swirling in anxiety, losing my center. After talking with a friend, I realized I needed to return to what I know to be true: that the wilderness within—though dark and daunting at times—is always where my compass is found.
It is as though we are collectively standing at a trailhead, staring into a dark and tangled wilderness. The path ahead is unclear. We are being asked not only to endure, but to remember who we truly are and to summon the courage to stand firmly in truth.
This heightened climate is more than just external chaos. It reflects the terrain of our collective shadow—the suppressed truths, denied fears, and unhealed wounds of humanity rising to the surface. We see it everywhere: in division, in projections of blame, in the weaponization of difference. The shadows we once kept hidden are now cast across the walls of our societies for all to see.
The Collective Shadow at Play
We are not just living through a crisis of politics, economics, or health. We are living through a crisis of the soul. The shadows we’ve ignored for centuries—racism, inequality, disconnection from the earth, addiction to power—are erupting into the light.
I’ve felt this most acutely when scrolling social media. One minute I’d be pulled into outrage, the next into despair. It was easier to judge “them”—whoever they were—than to ask myself what was being stirred in me. That’s how the shadow works: when we don’t face what’s within us, we project it outward.
Think of how division shows up in everyday life:
Families torn apart over political differences at the dinner table.
Social media feeds filled with blame, outrage, and scapegoating.
Fear of “the other”—whether that’s immigrants, neighbors, or people with different beliefs—projected outward as hostility.
These are not random outbursts. They are the collective shadow made visible. And unless we recognize it in ourselves, we keep feeding the same fire.
The Wilderness Within
The paradox is that the wilderness we fear most is not outside of us—it’s within us. Each of us carries unhealed wounds and suppressed emotions. If we don’t tend to them, they grow louder, and we end up joining the chorus of projection rather than contributing to healing.
I’ve seen this in myself. When I’m tired or stretched thin, my inner critic gets louder. I want to snap, to judge, to blame. But when I stop, breathe, and walk outside—when I listen to the trees or feel the earth under my feet—I remember: my reaction is mine to own. That pause is where the healing begins.
Navigating the wilderness within asks us to:
Face fear directly: Instead of numbing out with endless scrolling or overworking, I’ve had to sit with the knot in my chest and ask, What is this fear pointing me toward? Is it real, or is it a story I’m telling myself?
Reclaim sovereignty: When systems or leaders fail, I return to the truth that my worth and dignity are not granted by external approval. Sometimes I write this in my journal as a reminder.
Speak truth to power: For me, this has looked like having hard but necessary conversations—with compassion, not hatred. Whether with loved ones or in my work, I’ve learned that speaking truth isn’t about being loud, it’s about being clear and aligned.
Break the cycle of projection: The next time I feel triggered by a post or a comment, I ask: Where is this in me? What part of me feels unseen or threatened? That practice has saved me from adding more noise to an already divided world.
What It Takes to Walk This Path
Navigating the wilderness within is not easy—it is the most courageous journey we can take. It requires:
Radical self-honesty: I’ve had to admit when fear or ego is driving my choices. Sometimes my “need to be right” has really been a fear of being unseen.
Compassion: I’m practicing holding space, even when I want to rush in with advice. Recently, a friend shared her grief, and instead of trying to fix it, I simply sat with her. That moment of presence was enough.
Resilience: I’ve built rituals that ground me. Breathwork in the morning. Walks in nature after long days. And yes—turning off the news when my nervous system is overloaded.
Community: None of us are meant to do this alone. The conversations that anchor me most are the ones where I can share what’s really happening inside, and others do the same. That shared honesty feels like oxygen.
A Call to Walk Together
These times are not simply about surviving chaos—they are initiations. Like standing before a mountain trail, we are being invited to journey into the unknown, to face our shadows, and to remember our wholeness.
If you pause long enough to listen, you might notice the wilderness within is not only a place of darkness. It is also where the rivers of creativity flow, where the voice of your intuition lives, where the seeds of compassion are waiting to take root.
I’ve had to remind myself of this again and again—that no matter how chaotic the world becomes, there is a compass within me that never fails when I trust it.
The trail is before us. The question is: will you walk it?
My book Navigating the Wilderness Within is coming out in November.
Learn more here.