Reclaiming Evolving Identity

Setbacks — whether in the form of psychiatric relapse, bereavement, trauma, or sudden shock — can shake, or even unravel, a person’s sense of identity. In the aftermath, reclaiming a coherent and meaningful sense of self becomes a vital part of recovery.

Identity is not fixed; it evolves in response to what we endure and how we grow. A key aspect of healing lies in recognising this change and embracing who you are now, rather than wrestling to return to who you once were — or to become someone else entirely.

Individual therapy can provide valuable space to explore and reconfigure your sense of self. Creative practices such as writing, art, or storytelling can also support this process, helping you reconnect with your voice and shape a renewed narrative of identity.

Comments

On Loyalty and the Quiet Companionship of Pippen

I have a cosmopolitan friend who, by the mercy of chance — that discreet and impartial arbiter of destinies — was born in Serbia. Industrious beyond measure, he treats work not merely as obligation but as a quiet philosophy, a means of aligning oneself with the silent order of things. And he is a companion of a rare kind: steadfast, discerning, and, above all, loyal. His name is Pippen. We first crossed paths in the now-vanished days of Google+ — that fleeting agora where, for a moment, the world’s geeks entertained the gentle delusion that they might, in time, inherit the Earth. It was an age of bright aspiration, tinged with naïveté, yet marked by a peculiar fellowship that transcended all borders and conventions. Among Pippen’s many virtues, loyalty stands pre-eminent. Not the clamorous, performative loyalty so fashionable in this restless age, but the quieter, unwavering kind — the loyalty of one who stays. It is revealed not in grand gestures but in small, consistent a...

Ten Voices, One Silence

There were ten of them — though at times they spoke as one murmuring voice, and at others, like ten distinct silences, each fractured differently by the strain of being. They were not chosen as idols for a shelf, nor as exhibits in some canonical museum. Rather, they happened to me — each arriving, unbidden, during the long, luminous solitude of study. They were not so much read as endured, not so much admired as absorbed. What they gave me was not knowledge, but permission — to question, to unravel, to dwell within the unsayable. Sophocles carved fate into stone. He gave suffering a chorus and lent blindness a voice. In his tragedies, destiny is not an event but a law — impersonal, inescapable. His characters do not fall because they err, but because they exist. He was the architect of inevitability. Through him, I grasped that form can contain anguish without flinching. Dante Alighieri descended, and rose again. His Divine Comedy traced the arc of the soul with a pilgrim’...

The Light of Goodness

Goodness does not move in secrecy, nor does it weave intricate plans to assert itself. It does not conspire because it does not need to. It does not manipulate, does not calculate, does not seek advantage. It simply exists — and in existing, it transforms. Goodness does not force, does not impose. It does not seek to convince through rhetoric or demand adherence. Instead, it inspires. It is found in the quiet dignity of an honest action, in the clarity of a decision made without expectation of return. It does not need recognition to be real. It moves without urgency, but its presence is undeniable. Yet goodness is not passive. It is not a surrender to complacency or an invitation to be trampled. It does not dissolve into abstraction or hesitate in the face of difficulty. Goodness has weight, presence, substance. It is an active force — a choice, deliberate and renewed, moment by moment. And because it does not conspire, goodness is freedom. It does not bind, does not confin...

The Hyggelig Journey

Search This Blog