The Magician is Always at Work: A Journey Through Darkness and Light

The Magician is Always at Work: A Journey Through Darkness and Light

February 11-12 2025

The Blackout and the Need for Control

On the night of February 11, I was in the middle of writing when suddenly, everything went dark. The power at Santhika had gone out, leaving me sitting in silence, without WiFi, without distraction. Rationally, I didn’t need the power—I was working on an offline document, and my iPad was fully charged. But that gnawing need to control crept in.

My appointment with Liz would have to be rescheduled, and uncertainty took hold.

Instead of leaning into the moment, into the stillness, I reached for my phone. I opened Reddit and Instagram, not because I wanted to, but because I knew I shouldn’t. It was like I was rebelling against myself, falling into an old pattern of mindless scrolling. That spiraled into mindless eating—fruit at first, then sugar-free candies—until I was up late again with an upset stomach. Why am I doing this to myself? A form of self-sabotage that sometimes feels out of my control.

When I woke up the next morning, the air felt heavy. The full moon was high, my period was teasing its arrival but hadn’t fully come. The residue of the night before clung to me as I forced myself to get ready for the day’s activity—an Aroma Psychology workshop with Anita. I had no idea what to expect.

Aroma Psychology and Resistance to the Process

As soon as I entered the shala, I noticed three chairs. This would be a group activity, meaning Athi would be part of it. I wasn’t thrilled, but I was okay. I tried to keep an open mind.

Anita explained that we would be using dice, cards, and essential oils in a process that would help us better understand ourselves. But as I flipped through the workbook, I noticed QR codes linking to memberships—a clear connection to an MLM. I don’t love MLMs of any kind. They feel predatory and manipulative, masking themselves as empowerment while capitalizing on vulnerability. My walls immediately went up.

Athi was eager to go first, talking too much, cutting into Anita’s explanations. My irritation started to build. I calculated my Number of Consciousness—mine was one, signifying a natural-born leader, someone meant to run their own business and take center stage but also prone to getting burned. I was curious, but the frustration in my body was louder than my curiosity. We then calculated our Gift Number—mine was three, but I don’t even remember us going over it. I was too restless, too closed off.

The first stage was birthing. I landed on spaces that held messages that echoed what Ana had told me in my archetype reading the day before—messages about boundaries, trusting myself, and not seeing things in duality. The duality I pulled was tension and relaxation, talkativeness and silence. I could relate to both.

I could feel my chronic pain as the physical manifestation of emotional stress. I knew this was true. I knew my body was holding onto years of overwhelm, self-criticism, and unresolved tension. But instead of sitting with that realization, I became even more irritated—not at myself, but at Athi’s incessant interruptions.

At the Maturity stage, I was given the affirmation:

“I am a calm and friendly person.”

I felt anything but calm and friendly as Athi continued to talk over me. I wanted to leave. Every minute I stayed, I grew more resentful. I told Anita I didn’t want to continue. She questioned me, asking why. I hesitated—I didn’t want to be mean. I was supposed to “display friendliness.” But if I was honest, I would have said, “I don’t have space to hold. I don’t want to be here.”

She asked if I wanted my custom oil blend, which was the supposed purpose of the game. I refused and grabbed the two oils I had already received—Clove and Basil.

            •          Clove bridges the material and spiritual, feminine and masculine, giving and receiving. It protects clairvoyance and can bring business success.

            •          Basil develops the third eye, strengthens intuition, and helps with self-esteem, confidence, and optimism while attracting money.

I should have felt connected to them. Instead, nothing clicked. I stormed down the stairs in the rain, stuffing my backpack angrily. I wanted to leave. The noise, the bugs, the people, the pain—nothing felt okay.

Breaking Point: The Explosion of Everything

I stormed out in the rain. I wanted out of that place, out of my body, out of my mind. I called my mom even though it was 1 AM in New York. I cried and complained about everything.

“I hate it here.”

“I feel fat, ugly, like a failure.”

“I want my money back.”

“I want to go to Ubud.”

She was upset because I was upset, and she told me not to worry about the money—just leave. But I didn’t even know how to do that. There were no taxis, no Grabs, no way out. I would have to pay for another Airbnb before even getting refunded for this place.

I was losing it.

I stuffed my lunch down so fast I felt sick. I wasn’t even hungry. I needed someone to blame for what I was feeling. Anita. It was her fault. She wasn’t mentoring me right. This program was a joke. I sent my mom messages, ranting about how no one cared. It reaffirmed the old narrative:

I am awful, and everyone hates me.

Finally, at 3:30 PM, Anita messaged me. She told me she just finished up and was going to come down so we could talk. We sat across from each other, and I exploded. I poured out everything. The irritation. The pain. The resentment. The self-hatred. The feeling that nothing was right, that I didn’t belong, that I needed to leave.

She sat there, listening, absorbing it all.

She met my emotions with logic.

She met my storm with stillness.

She told me, “You will keep repeating this pattern of running and blaming until you truly look at it.” I cried and cried and cried.

Then she said something that stopped me in my tracks:

“Can’t you see? You are here to remember who you are and God’s love for you. God created you, and that is why you are perfect. You are here to give up control and learn to love yourself because you are a creation of God.”

For a moment, I remembered. I remembered a time when I felt whole. Before the world told me I wasn’t enough. Before I believed them. I asked her, “Why do I have to go through all this pain?” She told me, “Because one day, when you are mentoring someone at your retreat center, you will be able to hold space for them the way I am holding space for you. Her eyes watered as she spoke. And suddenly, I wasn’t alone anymore.

Maybe this was all happening for a reason.

Maybe the Magician was always at work.

Maybe love was never conditional, never external, never earned.

It was within me all along.

The Full Moon Ceremony and Release

That night, I went to a full moon ceremony at Candi Buddha. I was disconnected but went through the motions. The temple had once been submerged underwater—a forgotten place that had risen again. It felt symbolic.

Restorative Yoga and Reflection

As soon as we got back, i retreated back to my room for some solo dinner time. After dinner, I made my way to the yoga shala with some time to spare before my 10:30pm session with Liz. My body ached from the tension of the day, my mind still swirling with emotion. The moon asked for my presence and i asked her for forgiveness.

I laid out my mat and moved into a slow, restorative practice. I folded forward, allowing my breath to deepen. I twisted, stretched, and surrendered into the poses, feeling the tightness start to unravel. The only words that came to me were ones I had written long ago, under another full moon, under another moment of transformation. I let them move through me.

After practice, I sat in silence and preceded to walk upstairs to the top of Dream Hill to watch the moon.

I walked up to the pool deck, my feet silent against the damp wood. The air was thick with humidity, the scent of frangipani and earth mixing with the lingering incense from the full moon ceremony earlier. The water was dark and still, reflecting the moon above. A single towel lay folded neatly at the edge, as if it had been placed there just for me. I stripped down and slipped into the cool water, immersing myself beneath the surface. I let the moon’s rays wash over me, illuminating the parts of me that still ached, still clung, still resisted.

Floating there, weightless, I imagined myself shedding layers—the anger, the fear, the pain, the need for control. Just me and the water. Me and the moon. I climbed out, wrapping the towel around me, and for a moment, I just stood there. Still, quiet, listening. I realized I wasn’t desperate to leave anymore.

As I stepped down from the deck, I noticed Ali sitting at the edge, her feet dangling in the water. She smiled, hesitant, as if she didn’t want to intrude. I realized i hadnt even introduced myself earlier at the temple, still decompressing from the whirlwind of emotions i had experienced not even an hour earlier.

“Do you want to talk?” she asked softly.

I hesitated, guilt creeping in for being so closed off earlier.

“I have a session with my coach soon,” I said, “but maybe later?”

She nodded in understanding, and we sat there for a moment in silence, two strangers sharing space under the same moon. Afterward, I climbed into the moonlit pool, allowing Luna’s rays to wash away the fear, sadness, and exhaustion.

I felt reborn.

Integration and Reflection

I headed back to my room to take a quick shower and then got some fruit and plopped myself down for the session with Liz. I recounted everything. I realized:

This isn’t happening to me. It’s happening for me.

But old patterns still lurked. I scrolled Instagram, feeling left out as my India friends connected without me. I ate more fruit, more candies, more distractions. I called my mom again, lashing out unfairly. I felt guilty. I wondered, “Is the pain great enough yet?”

That night, I lay in bed, my belly aching from too much fruit and sugar free sucking candies, my heart heavy, my mind racing. I couldn’t stop scrolling, couldn’t stop seeking something outside of myself to numb what was inside. The patterns kept repeating. But maybe, just maybe, they were unraveling.

Maybe all of this was just the card the Jester pulled on the full moon morning.

Maybe, just maybe, God was putting me through all of this pain to bring me closer to Him and back to myself.

Because love isn’t conditional. It doesn’t come from a person, a place, or a thing.

It comes from within.

With love, gratitude and some hope for tomorrow,

eve aka Kali Grayce