When the Ladder Breaks: Why Healing Moves in Spirals, Not Straight Lines

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There’s a quiet panic happening right now.

Not always loud, not always conscious—but it’s there.

The systems we were taught to trust—the ones that promised stability, progress, success—are starting to crack. And beneath that cracking is a deeper realization:

What if the whole model was wrong to begin with?

Because most of what we’ve been taught about healing, growth, even being human… is built on a ladder.

Start here. Improve. Climb. Arrive.

But if you’ve lived long enough in your own body, you already know:

That’s not how it works.

a person standing in a field looking at the stars
Photo by Evgeni Tcherkasski on Unsplash

The Ladder Was Never Built for You

Patriarchy didn’t just shape our institutions—it shaped our imagination.

It gave us a very specific template for healing:

  • linear progress
  • measurable outcomes
  • authority at the top
  • “success” at the end

You see it everywhere.

In therapy models that quietly prioritize expertise over relationship. In productivity culture that treats healing as a way to get back to work. In the idea that if something comes back—anxiety, grief, old patterns—you’ve somehow failed.

But what if that framework is the problem?

What if the ladder itself is what’s breaking you?

The Spiral Was Always There

In a recent post, I wrote about the sacred spiral—how healing loops, returns, deepens.

This is something different.

This is about what happens when the ladder stops working altogether.

Because spirals don’t just describe healing. They describe life.

Seasons don’t climb—they cycle. Bodies don’t progress—they fluctuate. Relationships don’t resolve once—they evolve.

Even your hardest patterns don’t disappear. They revisit you, asking:

Can you meet me differently this time?

The spiral doesn’t promise arrival.

It offers relationship.

The Industrial Mindset (and Why It’s Failing)

There’s an archetypal force underneath all of this.

Call it patriarchy. Call it capitalism. Call it the industrial complex of the psyche.

It values:

  • control over connection
  • efficiency over aliveness
  • certainty over curiosity

And it’s not just “out there.” It lives in us.

It’s the voice that says:

  • “You should be over this by now.”
  • “Why can’t you just get your shit together?”
  • “Fix it. Optimize it. Move on.”

But something in us is resisting.

Burnout. Disconnection. A quiet refusal to keep performing.

These are not just personal failures.

They are signs that the system is no longer sustainable—for anyone.

Not for women. Not for men.

Not for anyone trying to be human inside something that flattens complexity.

What Matriarchy Actually Points To

When I talk about matriarchy, I’m not talking about flipping the hierarchy. Not women on top instead of men. That’s just the same ladder, painted differently.

What I’m pointing to is something older. Something more relational.

A different pattern entirely:

  • power that is distributed, not concentrated
  • care that is shared, not assigned
  • healing that happens in circles, not steps
  • societal structures that protect the most vulnerable, not the most powerful

We have real-world examples of this.

The Haudenosaunee Confederacy, where Clan Mothers held decision-making power and guide leadership through relationship to land and community.

The Mosuo, where family, caregiving, and inheritance move through communal, matrilineal structures.

These aren’t utopias.

They are proof that other ways of organizing life—and healing—already exist.

a close up of white wildflowers in the sun
Photo by Irina Iriser on Unsplash

Spirals Outlast Ladders

Here’s the thing about ladders: They depend on stability. On a fixed direction. On a clear top and bottom.

And right now? That structure is shaking.

But spirals? Spirals don’t collapse the same way. Because they don’t rely on a single direction.

They bend. They return. They adapt. They hold complexity instead of trying to eliminate it.

This is why spiral-based healing feels more honest.

You don’t graduate from grief. You don’t eliminate your patterns. You don’t become a finished version of yourself.

You deepen.

What This Could Look Like (If We Let It)

If we stopped forcing healing into ladders, things would start to shift.

Therapy might look more like relationship than expertise. Healing might happen in groups, not just private rooms. Care might be shared across communities, not isolated in individuals.

We might measure healing differently: not by productivity, but by capacity, by connection, by aliveness.

We might start asking: Do I feel more like myself?

instead of: Am I functioning better?

Walking the Spiral (Practical Entry Points)

Not as rules. Just invitations.

Notice the return

When something resurfaces, pause before calling it regression. Ask: What’s different about how I’m meeting this now?

Track capacity, not performance

Instead of asking “Did I do enough today?” try: What did my system have space for?

Loosen the timeline

Healing doesn’t happen on schedule. Let things take the time they take.

Share the load

Let care be reciprocal. Let others hold you. Offer to hold them.

Find relational spaces

Whether it’s therapy, community, or friendship—healing deepens in connection, not isolation.

a spiral drawn in the sand
Photo by Yossanunj on Unsplash

We Are Between Worlds

There’s grief in this moment. Because even if the old system wasn’t working, it was familiar.

And spirals? They ask more of us.

They ask us to stay present. To tolerate uncertainty. To let go of the fantasy of arrival.

But they also offer something the ladder never could: A way to belong to your life as it is.

Not when you’ve fixed yourself. Not when you’ve figured it all out.

But right here.

In the returning. In the unfolding. In the quiet knowing that nothing about you is “behind.”

You are just… in the spiral.



If this spoke to something in you, there are a few paths you can follow from here:

Work with Me

Personalized therapy (in Canada) and coaching (worldwide) for deep, relational support.

Foxfire School

Intimate group spaces for learning, unlearning, and becoming—together.

The Wolfskin Project

A growing library of free resources for self-exploration, myth, and everyday magic.

Each door leads somewhere different. It is my hope that all of them lead back to you.

<3 Rachel

What are your thoughts?