🏹 Don’t Look Back

There’s a moment in the Orpheus myth that stays with me. He goes to the underworld to bring back his beloved. He sings with such truthfulness that even the dead soften. Not only that, but he gets her back—on one condition: He must not look back.

That line lands. Not because it’s cruel, but because it touches something deep in the soul’s work—especially when building something meaningful in a world focused on performance.

Moving forward without looking back shows intent. It says: I trust the song I sang. I trust the path I’m on. I won’t ask the mystery to prove itself before I arrive.

Once loosed, an arrow knows only its flight. It carries intention, not reassurance. This project—the container I’m building—is like that. It’s a therapist’s assistant, yes. But also: a vessel for depth, complexity, and insight.

It’s not meant to go viral. It’s meant to go down—into psyche, systems, and story. If it finds you there, I’m glad.

And if it doesn’t—I’ll still keep walking. Because I’ve heard the music. And I believe it matters.