lost and unlost

“You will be lost and unlost, over and over again. Relax, love the unfolding.” — Nayyirah Waheed

If you’re new here, paid subscribers receive Story Work exercises every Sunday night at 8 pm et. Story Work: Field Notes on Self-Discovery and Reclaiming Your Narrative is the name of my new book (which is currently available for preorder!) The term describes my signature process of reflecting, reclaiming, and reimagining the stories of our lives. It involves looking at your life experiences as creative material that you have the power to shape. For the next few weeks, our story work theme is Life in Transition. All subscribers can read the free preview below.

Before we get into the new story work theme, I have some reminders and updates for you:

July 2. Life as a Creative Process — Mid-Year Check-In. From 6 - 7:30 pm et this Wednesday on Zoom, we’ll revisit the intentions you set at the beginning of the year and reflect on how you've navigated the challenges and discoveries you’ve experienced so far. We’ll work on reflection prompts together to support your creative intentions for the rest of the year. This is open to paid subscribers and Inner Story members.

July 3. Registration for the Creative Courage Writing Intensive will close on Thursday, July 3, and we get started on July 10. (If you’re new here, this intensive is a 12-week workshop that leads to a fresh perspective on writing and the role it can play in your life.)

July 5. Write with us! Join us for our free Writing the Layers monthly workshop this Saturday (instead of our usual Friday) from 7 - 8 pm et. You can register here. This is open to all subscribers.

weekly story work exercise

This is the third post of our current theme, Life in Transition. You can find other recent themes here. You can find all the archives here.

Photo by Nadzeya Matskevich on Unsplash

Lately, I’ve been asking for help.

Having some honest, vulnerable conversations about where I am, where I want to be, and the gap between the two. I’m between chapters, a liminal space between no longer and not yet. And I don’t think I can get out of it alone.

Even as someone known for vulnerability, one of the biggest things I’m working through right now is the fear of being seen—like really seen.

I’m learning that when you never ask for help, the people who could support you don’t know you need it. They assume you’re good.

But the truth is: we all get lost sometimes.

I don’t feel lost when it comes to my purpose—what fuels me, what I believe in, and how I want to serve.

But change is calling. And I’m questioning the way forward, you know? How do I want to continue this work in the next season of my life?

In this series, we are exploring how life’s transitions—both chosen and unexpected—ask us to soften into uncertainty, release old stories, and listen more deeply to ourselves.

Why is it so scary to get lost, even when we know that it’s an inevitable part of life?

Anytime you’ve fallen in love, taken a leap of faith, followed a creative or professional calling, broken a cycle or pattern, taken an adventure to a new place, or dared to explore the deeper mysteries within—you’ve stepped into the unknown and embraced the risk of getting lost.

Because to live deeply is to lose your way every now and then.

In Rebecca Solnit’s A Field Guide to Getting Lost, she says:

“...to be lost is to be fully present, and to be fully present is to be capable of being in uncertainty and mystery. And one does not get lost but loses oneself, with the implication that it is a conscious choice, a chosen surrender...”

In the world of Story Work, I see life as a creative process—where our lived experiences are the raw materials we shape, reflect on, and give meaning to. And getting lost is some of the richest material we’ll ever encounter.

It forces us to sit with uncertainty, longing, and the ache of not knowing. And from that ache, something profound and transformative can emerge.

Getting lost carries a wisdom that no other experience offers.

We often think of it as an inconvenience. Something that wastes time. Something to be embarrassed about and avoid.

The fear of getting lost is a big part of why so many of us don’t pursue our creative callings:

What if I lose my way and can’t find my way back?
What if I find myself and lose everything else?
What if I pour myself into this and it doesn’t work?
What if I start and then change my mind?
What if I fail?

Despite these fears, our creative callings persist, uncertainty wrapped around them.

We crave clarity, but the only way to find it is to extend ourselves beyond what we know and step into unfamiliar territory.