Navigating Self-Discovery: Lessons from the River

Let’s honor the truth of the in-between—the sacred liminality of choosing yourself while still unlearning the reflex to abandon yourself. For the one who used to call it devotion when it was really self-erasure.

Mid-River Mercy: Choosing Myself While Still Unlearning the Drowning

There are days I still feel it—that tug in my bones, the echo of an old vow:
If I just love hard enough, give enough, bleed enough… maybe I’ll finally be safe.
Maybe they’ll stay. Maybe I’ll be worthy. Maybe I’ll matter.

It’s an ache so familiar, I almost mistake it for love.
But I’m learning not to.

I’m not drowning anymore.
But I’m still in the water.

Up to my knees in it—sacred, murky, memory-soaked.
This is the river where I first learned to disappear inside other people’s needs.
And this is also the river where I now learn to stay with myself.

I am not yet to shore.
But I’m no longer being pulled under.

A Jungian Lens: The Emergence of the Self

Carl Jung spoke of the individuation process—the sacred task of becoming who we truly are by integrating what we have disowned or projected. For many of us raised in systems where martyrdom was mistaken for virtue, individuation begins with terrifying questions like:

What if I’m not here to save them?
Who am I without the suffering?
Can I still be loved when I choose me?

This is the encounter with the Mother Complex—not just our personal mother, but the archetypal wound of caretaking as identity. For me, this shows up in dreams, in fatigue, in the guilt that coils around my throat at times when I choose rest.

But this is also where the Phoenix rises: from the ashes of over-identification with the Martyr. In Jungian language, I am integrating the shadow of the Sacrificed Self and reclaiming the archetype of the Sovereign Healer—the one who gives from wholeness, not depletion.

Through My Stars: A Map of Sacred Process

Astrology doesn’t force our hand, but it does illuminate the tides. In my chart:

Chiron in Taurus in the 8th house speaks of deep wounds around worth, especially when entangled in shared resources, debts, and power imbalances. This placement often signals ancestral patterns of over-giving as a survival mechanism. Healing comes through cultivating embodied self-worth that isn’t contingent on being needed.
Pluto conjunct the North Node in Libra (1st/2nd houses) calls me to transform my identity from co-dependent peacekeeper to sovereign co-creator. This isn’t about isolation—it’s about reciprocal relationships rooted in mutual liberation.
Moon in Aquarius in the 5th reminds me that my emotional fulfillment is tied to authentic self-expression. That joy isn’t frivolous—it’s medicinal. That my creativity is how I mother myself.
And Mercury in Virgo in the 1st house? It gives me the language to name these thresholds, to write my way through the shame, to tell the truth in sacred precision.

What This Looks Like in Real Time

I still sometimes overextend.
I still sometimes brace when I say “no.”
I still catch myself trying to fix what isn’t mine to hold.

But I also now:

Light a candle before I light myself on fire.
Ask, “What do I need right now?” before checking on everyone else.
Let dishes wait and grief speak.
Let joy in, even before I think I’ve earned it.

I am re-parenting the part of me who thought love had to hurt to be holy.
I am learning that devotion does not require self-abandonment.
I am remembering that my presence is powerful—and it doesn’t have to come at the cost of myself.

To You, If You’re Also Mid-River

You don’t have to be fully healed to be holy.
You don’t have to be at the shore to deserve rest.
You are not behind. You are not failing.

You are re-weaving lifetimes of sacrifice into a single golden truth:
You matter. Even when you’re not rescuing. Even when you’re simply resting.

So if you’re still in the water, I see you.
Knees deep. Heart open.
Becoming.

Not drowned.
Becoming.

And this season of my life?
It’s about rooting into me—not in reaction to someone else’s need, but in devotion to my own becoming.

Because when I am full, when I am nourished, when I am steady and sovereign, I offer from abundance—not depletion.

And that is a holy offering.

So if you, too, are walking the trembling path back to yourself, let this be a witness:

You are allowed to choose you.
You are allowed to rest.
You are allowed to not answer, not fix, not explain.
You are allowed to be the soft center of your own life.

Not because you’ve earned it,
but because you’re already worthy.

You’ve always been.

And maybe, just maybe, this choosing?
This sacred selfishness?
Is how we heal the lineage of souls who only knew how to love from self-abandonment.

And yes, I’m may still be in the river, at times,
But I’ve stopped calling it drowning.
I’m calling it learning to belong to myself.
One sacred splash at a time!

Now let’s brew a boundary-blessed blend with a quick ritual to stir in your sovereignty. Here’s your official “Not My Problem” Tea recipe, complete with a small, potent ritual to reclaim your energy every time you sip:

🫖 Not My Problem Tea

A Nervine Blend for Boundaries, Clarity & Calm Detachment

🌿 Herbal Ingredients:

Lemon Balm (1 tsp) – calms anxious nerves, clears emotional static
Holy Basil (Tulsi) (1 tsp) – restores balance, uplifts the spirit, dissolves guilt
Skullcap (½ tsp) – soothes overactive caretaking loops, quiets the “fixer” impulse
Rose Petals (½ tsp) – softens your heart, without surrendering your power
Licorice Root (¼ tsp) – harmonizes the blend, adds sweetness without codependence
(Optional) Blue Cornflower or Butterfly Pea Flower (a pinch) – for color and magic

Yields: 1 large mug.
Steep: 7–10 minutes, covered, while you prepare your energy.

🌿 Disclaimer:
The herbal blend and ritual shared here are intended for spiritual and personal empowerment purposes. I am not a medical professional, and this content is not meant to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any medical condition. Please consult with a qualified healthcare provider before using herbs—especially if you are pregnant, nursing, taking medication, or have a medical condition. Your well-being is sacred—please honor your unique body with discernment and care.

🔮 Small Sovereignty Ritual: “Return to Self”

Use whenever:

You’re tempted to say yes when your gut says no
You’re emotionally flooded by other people’s chaos
You need a sacred pause before re-engaging

🌕 Steps:

When you’ve finished, pour out the last few drops of tea on the earth or in your sink as an offering. “Let what is not mine be released. I reclaim my peace.”

Hold your herbs in your palm and whisper:
“I brew not to carry the weight, but to call myself home.”

As the water boils, light a small white or blue candle.
Say aloud or silently: “I am the keeper of the flame,
not the firefighter for every blaze.
Let what is mine return to me.
Let what is not dissolve.”

While steeping the tea, trace a sigil in the steam.
(You may use a simple bindrune or spiral—the intention matters most.)

As you sip, repeat: “With every sip, I soften. With every breath, I return.”
“I do not dissolve to be digestible. I steep in my own truth.”

We stir our tea, not to solve the world, but to soften back into our own self.
To sip clarity instead of chaos.
To breathe before bleeding.
To remember that sacred does not mean sacrificial.

This isn’t about building walls.
It’s about weaving boundaries that let the light in—ours first.

If you, too, are wading through the river of everyone else’s expectations, here’s your invitation:

Steep your herbs.
Speak your name back into your body.
And with every sip, remind yourself:

I am not the problem-solver.
I am the spell.

Until Next Time,

With root and ritual,
From the river to the flame—
May your boundaries be blessed, and your tea always warm.

The Inspired Imaginative

thedevotedmystic.com

A Jungian Lens: The Emergence of the Self