Befriending the Void – Becoming her Mistress.

THE STORY – How I went from being a control freak to embracing the potential of nothingness.

With THE STORY I’m sharing words from my soul, stories from my life, and the myth of my experience. This is a vulnerable story of how loss catapulted me into the Void, and how I learned that the dark nothingness is not as cold and unruly as we are raised to believe.

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Old me was a control freak.

Sure, blame some of that on autism and a heightened need for routine and planning – but the roots grow deeper than that.

As a spiritually disconnected teen, I used to feel as though it was hardly possible to breathe freely without losing some sense of control. My muscles tight from head to toe, I was pushing and pulling at life, terrified of what I actually knew: that I didn’t know. What I longed for in life. What I wanted to do, or become. Who I was.

Fast forward 15 or so years, and you find me sitting on my armchair, a cat at my feet and the laptop propped up on a cushion on my legs. My right shin is throbbing slightly – that’s where the cat landed, claws out, when she attempted to jump from the coach over to my legs, only to slide off the woollen blanket I am wrapped up in. Ouch.

Cycle 40-something of trying to invite in our baby has just come to a close, and with my moon time I enter again into what I used to dread so much in my teens and throughout my twenties: the Void.

Trying to conceive began in the very same month when I started my second business. Still hooked on the idea that I was to be in control of my life to the very second, I meticulously planned for success in both endeavours.

Supplements, herbs, temping, visualisation.

Content plans, marketing strategy, analytics, vision boards.

Fired up by the need for momentum, with an enormous pressure to succeed built up inside of my body, I constantly felt like a balloon about to pop, but I pushed on.

Another Tarot reading here, another marketing course there. Trying yet another fertility diet, and yet another list building challenge.

My business took a few bumpy steps forward, and after 9 months of waiting that felt like an eternity, I also fell pregnant. I was burning for this child, and the desperation with which I wanted all of this to work out – in fact – needed it to work out, felt downright scary.

I had to be in control, stay in control.

It felt like if I slipped just once, everything would fall apart. I was trying to keep everything together, grasping at all threads that I could see, holding on for dear life.

And then I fell.

It was precisely 23:59 when I was wheeled into the operating theatre. I woke up again in the early hours of the morning, surrounded by women and newborns, fathers meeting their offspring for the first time.

And I had nothing left.

There was no more control. There was a gaping black hole in my heart, and yet I tried to fight the Void for a little longer. First I tried not to feel, then I raged, eventually I faltered.

The Void stayed.

She stared at me at night, and I stared into her nothingness at daytime, all the while trying to dig out a creative spark from somewhere inside. But there was only silence.

Eventually, she and I got closer.

I learned that she was not going to leave my side, not while I pretended she didn’t exist, and while I desperately tried to shake her off by trying out doctor after doctor, healer after healer, and diving again into rabbit hole after rabbit hole of learning, certifications and trainings.

I was seeking the flaw in myself, trying to find the error that needed fixing to get back on track, and to get results. I refused to listen to the Void, who kept whispering, it’s not your fault, you are complete, you are whole – be patient.

What surprisingly nice words from the very thing I feared the most – and so I began to edge a little closer.

Slowly, I allowed her to reveal herself to me more fully. I realised that she was not a small creature by my side, but that she was the very cosmos I existed within.

Suddenly I could see how the control I had clung onto was nothing but an illusion.

It felt cold and scary at first to figure this out, but then it began to feel warmer, and safer. The Void was not the frozen nothingness I had presumed.

She is, in fact, life.

It is from her dark womb that all potential is born. It is from her emptiness that everything can come into form. She is not my enemy, but my ally. Within her, I am safe, I am held.

And from her creative core, I began to come alive again.

In her silence I found the songs that make me dance, and the words that touch my soul. Her empty page is the one that welcomes my words with a warm smile, and in the not knowing of what life will bring me next, I am fortified, refined, and attuned to what my soul, what God wants for me.

Of course, I still slip into control mode.

I still track my cycles, and I still dwell on post analytics. But I can step out now. Return to the Void. Remember her words, and her wisdom. Feel into her vast potential. Find the truth of who I came here to be within her remembrance – the threshold keeper, the mystic, the one who resides at the border of knowing and not knowing.

The Void has become my guardian. And I have become her mistress. We cycle back to each other whenever the moment is right, and I fall into her embrace when the time calls for surrender.

I don’t know when I will become the mother I so deeply long to be.

I don’t know when my business will hit the next level.

I don’t know who I will be called to become tomorrow.

But I know that the safest, most rewarding, and most fulfilling thing I can do is to surrender to trust, to let myself be carried by the Void herself, and letting the magic of her potential become fulfilled as I take one step after the other, breath after breath, day after day, alive in the here and now and devoted to my destiny path on this wild journey called life.

I’d love to hear from you – what are your experiences with the Void? How is your relationship with her?

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How to work with Klara

Klara is a soul-led brand creator, vision doula and mystic living mentor.

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