Of Cycles and Mastery – A Reflection

There’s a strange comfort in cycles, even when they seem to lead us back to the same questions we’ve asked before. For me, this comfort didn’t come easily — it was hard-won, and it came from looking deeply at a pattern that has been with me for years. I’ve often questioned whether the spiritual path I walk, one rooted in Irish traditions, is truly mine. Again and again, I’ve found myself doubting, stepping away, exploring something else… only to be drawn back. Like a tide returning to the shore, like the turning of the seasons, I always come home. And it’s that cycle — doubt and return — that I’ve come to see as not just part of my journey, but an integral part of its meaning.

At first, I viewed my doubt as a failing. Each time I found myself wondering if this practice was the “right” one, I worried that I was being insincere, or that I didn’t belong. I’d branch out, seeking other paths, trying to find something that would feel more certain. And yet, no matter how far I strayed, I always came back to Irish traditions, to the guidance of The Morrigan, to the practices and stories that had first called me. This return used to feel like starting over, like undoing the progress I’d made. But over time, I realized I wasn’t starting over at all. Each return brought me back with something new — a deeper understanding, a renewed sense of purpose, a clarity that I hadn’t had before.

The Morrigan, with her sharp and relentless wisdom, helped me see this cycle for what it was: not a mistake, but a lesson. It wasn’t about avoiding doubt or conquering it. It was about mastering the cycle itself, embracing the rhythm of doubt and return as a mirror for the natural world. Because just like the earth moves through its seasons, so too do we move through our own seasons of questioning, reflection, and renewal.

When I look at my doubt through this lens, it feels less like a roadblock and more like winter. In winter, the earth grows quiet, stripped bare. The trees lose their leaves, the fields lie fallow, and it can seem as though nothing is happening. But beneath the surface, there is rest, regeneration, and the quiet work of preparation. My doubts are like that — a wintering of the spirit, where I’m forced to pause, to reflect, to sit with uncomfortable questions. And just as winter always gives way to spring, doubt inevitably leads to a return.

Spring, for me, is the season of rediscovery — of coming back to this path with fresh eyes and open hands. It’s a time when the seeds planted in winter’s quiet begin to sprout. I remember why I’m drawn to Irish traditions. I reconnect with the stories, the myths, the practices that feel like home. Each time I return, I bring something new to the table. And each return strengthens my roots, grounding me more deeply in this practice that I’ve come to realize is mine, not in spite of my doubts, but because of them.

It’s no coincidence that Irish myths themselves are told in cycles. The Mythological Cycle, the Ulster Cycle, the Fenian Cycle, the Historical Cycle — these aren’t linear tales with neat beginnings and endings. They’re stories that spiral, weaving themes of transformation, death, and renewal. They remind us that endings are always beginnings, that every descent holds the promise of a return. The Morrigan’s guidance has helped me see my own story in the same way. Doubt isn’t a dead end; it’s part of the spiral, part of the rhythm that keeps me moving and growing.

Mastering the cycles isn’t about eliminating doubt. It’s about learning to move with it, to see it as an ally rather than an enemy. Doubt forces me to question, to refine, to let go of what no longer serves me. It strips me bare, like winter does, but it also makes room for new growth. It reminds me to trust the process, to honor the return, and to see each cycle as a spiral upward rather than a circle back.

If you’ve ever felt caught in a similar pattern, I invite you to reframe it. What if your doubt isn’t a sign that you’re on the wrong path, but a natural part of walking it? What if your returns aren’t failures, but opportunities to deepen your roots and strengthen your connection? And what if this cycle, rather than being something to overcome, is something to embrace?

The Morrigan’s guidance often asks us to face ourselves, to do the hard work of transformation. For me, that’s meant learning to see my doubt not as a weakness, but as a teacher. It’s meant honoring the cycles of questioning and returning as sacred, as reflections of the natural world and the stories that shape us. And it’s meant trusting that each time I return, I’m coming home to this practice with a little more wisdom, a little more strength, and a lot more clarity.

So here I am, once again, walking this path of Irish traditions. Not because I never doubted, but because I always returned. And that, I’ve come to realize, is the point.