Finding Purpose Through Shamanic Divination: A Journey of Self-Discovery

Winding roads through misty vegetation toward a pastel sunset

There’s a version of me who would have laughed if you’d told her where she’d end up.

Not because it’s a bad place to be. Because I couldn’t have imagined it. There was no straight line from where I started to where I am now — no five-year plan that worked out, no moment where I pointed at a map and said “there, that’s where I’m going.” Just a series of chapters where I genuinely didn’t know what came next.

I’ve changed countries. Changed careers. Started over more times than I ever expected to. I’ve lost things I once thought were load-bearing — the kind of things you build an identity on, and then one day they’re gone and you have to find out who you are without them.

And there were long stretches where the question wasn’t “what do I want to achieve?”

It was simpler, and harder, than that. It was just:

“What now?”

If you’ve ever asked yourself that question — quietly, maybe at 2am, maybe while everyone around you thought you had it together — I want you to know something before you read any further.

You’re not behind. You’re not lost. You’re in a chapter, not a verdict.

Here’s the strange thing about looking back.

The things that felt like detours weren’t detours. Not really. They were the road — I just couldn’t recognise it while I was standing on it.

The experiences I wanted to forget, the ones I would have deleted from my story if I’d had the choice? They became part of how I understand everything that came after. Not because pain is noble or suffering is required — but because those experiences cracked something open in me that needed cracking. They taught me things that comfort never would have.

The questions I couldn’t answer — about who I was, what I was doing, why things had fallen apart — didn’t get answered the way I expected. I didn’t wake up one day with clarity. Instead, I learned to sit with the questions. To let them stay open. To stop demanding that life resolve itself on my timeline.

And somewhere in the middle of all that unlearning, something shifted in me.

Purpose isn’t always a destination.

Sometimes it’s not a place you arrive at all. Sometimes it’s a thread — quiet, constant, running underneath every version of you you’ve ever been. Through the version who had it all figured out and the version who had nothing figured out. Through the moves, the losses, the reinventions.

You usually can’t see the thread while you’re inside the story. You can only see it looking back.

But here’s what I’ve learned, and what I now spend my work helping others discover:

You don’t have to wait for hindsight to feel it.

This is part of why I work the way I do now.

Not to tell people who they should become. I’m not interested in handing anyone a script for their life — partly because it wouldn’t work, and partly because it isn’t mine to give.

What I am interested in is creating a space. A space where you can slow down enough to meet the deeper story that’s been running underneath the obvious one all along — the one that gets drowned out by deadlines, by other people’s expectations, by the sheer noise of trying to keep everything moving.

Because here’s something I’ve come to believe deeply:

Sometimes you don’t need someone to hand you an answer. You need help seeing the question differently.

That reframe changes everything. It did for me.

Let’s clear up a few things, because the word “divination” comes loaded with assumptions.

It’s not fortune-telling. I’m not going to tell you what Tuesday looks like, or predict your next relationship, or hand you a script for the next ten years.

It’s not someone deciding your future for you. If anything, it’s the opposite — it’s a practice that hands the power back to you, not away from you.

And it’s not about creating a dependency where you need someone else to interpret your life for you, session after session, forever. If that’s what it became, I’d have failed at the actual point of the work.

Shamanic divination is a way of seeking insight through an intuitive, symbolic, spiritual framework — one that human beings have leaned on for thousands of years, long before we decided that logic and analysis were the only legitimate ways to know something.

Instead of asking “what should I do?” — which tends to just loop you back into the same anxious thinking that got you stuck in the first place — we sit with different questions. Ones like:

  • What is asking to be understood right now?
  • What is quietly shaping the path I’m already walking?
  • Where might I be disconnected from myself?
  • What wants my attention, that I’ve been too busy or too afraid to give it to?

These aren’t questions your logical mind is built to answer. They live somewhere else — somewhere quieter, older, less concerned with being efficient and more concerned with being true.

Ancient traditions understood something that modern life has mostly forgotten: not every answer arrives through thinking harder.

Sometimes the answer only arrives once you’re quiet enough to hear what’s been underneath the noise the entire time.

Maybe you’re in a “what now?” chapter of your own right now. Maybe you’ve been carrying a question for months — or years — that you haven’t been able to answer, no matter how many pros-and-cons lists you’ve made or how many people you’ve asked for advice.

Maybe you don’t need more advice.

Maybe what you need is space. Space to explore what’s actually going on beneath the surface question. Space to see your own story from a different angle — the way I eventually learned to see mine.

I’d love to hold that space for you.

If something in this stirred anything — a recognition, a curiosity, even just a quiet “huh, maybe” — I’d genuinely love to hear from you. You don’t need to have the right words for what you’re looking for. You don’t even need to know exactly what your question is yet. That’s often exactly where this work begins.

Send me a message, drop a comment, or reach out directly. Tell me a little about where you are right now, and let’s explore what’s asking to be understood.

The thread is already there, running through your story. Sometimes it just helps to have someone sit with you while you find it. 🌿

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