“We do not see things as they are, we see them as we are.” — Anaïs Nin

As we step into the work, we start slowly, hesitant, as if learning to walk for the first time. With practice, we gain confidence. It never becomes as automatic as walking, but it does get easier. We push deeper, working through the ego, and confidence swells—until, at some point, we proclaim:

“I’ve done the work! I know the way now! I can show you too!”

And that’s when we get smacked down.

This is what I call the spiritual ego—attachment to the process, mistaking proficiency for authority. I’ve done the work. I know what I’m doing. I’ve already worked through most of it, I tell myself. The irony? I had only just begun. And I was about to learn the ultimate truth.

The truth is this: I had only just begun. Step through one door, cross one threshold, and a thousand more appear. But even this is not the ultimate truth. That truth is far simpler, far more profound:

Life is a series of contractions and expansions, of little deaths and little births, of returning to where we once started.

Let me give you an example.

I was remembering today how I got angry at my son for wasting food last night. He took too much cheese, and I snapped, irrationally upset. But then I asked myself a simple question:

How am I wasting food?

The answer hit immediately—I had just thrown away a perfectly usable loaf of bread. Oh crap.

Then the mirror widened:

• How do I look for trouble?
• How do I cause trouble?
• How do I provoke fights?
• How am I disorganized?
• How am I careless?
• How do I spread rumors, lie, betray trust, undermine, or act in passive aggression?

Oh crap.

Here’s the secret: If you think you’ve transcended something, get ready—life will hand you the next opportunity to prove yourself wrong.

This is the real work. The shadow work. The work of uncovering what we’d rather not see. And make no mistake—it will show you parts of yourself that you would swear didn’t exist.

But here’s where we have to be careful. The spiritual path has no final destination. It is an endless unfolding—a pattern of beginnings and closings, of opening and opening again. The only tools we have are awareness, curiosity, and transformation. Not mastery. Not completion.

Because the moment we think we’ve conquered the lesson, we are only just now being called to explore the full depth of our being. The work is never done. And that is what makes it beautiful.

You’ve gone full circle. You’ve done the work. And now, it’s time to be more open than ever.

Look closely. What mirrors are showing up in your life? Where are you being asked to be honest with yourself?

Completion does not mean ending—it means readiness to begin again, with new eyes.