06/01/2026
What if the thing you’re most afraid of has already happened?
Most of us carry a quiet, vigilant terror of losing control — of the moment when the inner weather finally spills into the outer world, when grief submerges the workday, when the carefully managed self simply comes apart.
But here is the vertiginous truth that the deepest healing work eventually reveals: you have already lost control. Not in some future session where the ceremony cracks you open. Right now. On an ordinary routine-filled morning.
The voice that narrates your experience before it completes. The part that manages how close people get with such precision you’ve mistaken it for a personality. The one that reaches for the screen, the glass, the project — anything — when a certain feeling begins to surface. None of these were your conscious decision. They are guardians, running the show on your behalf, steering by calculations made so long ago you’ve forgotten there was ever another way.
The parts frightened of losing control are the parts you lost control of a long time ago.
And they are exhausted. Years of managing the mystery, keeping the living moment predictable, damming the river. What breathwork, ceremony, somatic practice, and deep contemplative work can open — when held well — is not the catastrophe these parts have been prophesying. It is something far more interesting.
A return. To something older, wiser, and more capable of meeting what was feared than any management system ever could be.
And there is a peculiar possibility alongside this: some of what felt most urgently personal — the grief, the exhaustion, the inexplicable sorrow settling over a room — may never have been entirely yours to control in the first place. It was weather. Moving through a living field. Touching many beings at once.
You were never as separate as you thought. The practices simply help you remember how to move with it all rather than against it.
Trevor’s full essay — link in bio. 🙏
