When life shifts – through loss, upheaval, or the slow erosion of certainty – we can be left with parts of ourselves we hardly recognise, or don’t quite know how to live with.
Maybe you’ve felt this? Parts that rage, worry and feel small or neglected, frightened or numb.
A big life shift for me was my charismatic, evangelical faith unravelling. The Christian truths that had once been life-giving, started to feel constricting and shaming. I felt more and more unseen and unwelcome as myself in church. When I found I couldn’t read bible stories with my young children anymore, I knew it was time to leave. What was changing inside me didn’t match the spiritual environment or framework that I was in.
Deconstruction was a long process. There was so much unravelling of the theology itself, and of how I had integrated it into how I saw myself and the world – Nomad helped a lot with this! I also needed to grapple with power dynamics and how I responded to them. Counselling training and therapy helped me understand healthy and unhealthy patterns of relating. I started to understand just how undermining high control religion can be to self-worth. I struggled with the loss of belonging and my shift in identity too and am grateful to my patient partner and friends outside of church who were so supportive.
I was also lucky to be able to take my children to a nature-connection group in the woods around this time; gathering with others weekly around a fire singing gentle nature-focused songs was just what I needed! It re-awoke in me an awe and wonder in the natural world. This was a part of me that hadn’t really developed much in church, but it was an important part, that had led me to study geology at university and then become a science teacher years before. This part started to flourish more as increasingly I turned to nature, what Richard Rohr calls the “first bible”, for resourcing. I already knew how to “read a rock” from my degree, and so when the God I had always known began to fade, it was the land that caught me.
I love rocks, and being outside in the South Devon countryside where I live never fails to inspire and nourish me. I have found a deep appreciation for the granite hills of Dartmoor and the slaty, sandstone beaches. The rocks here have become like companions, and I see in their formation stories so many reflections of the human experience. Written in their minerals and grains are lessons about resilience, transformation, and the quiet persistence of change.
Down at the beach, I see cliffs marked by clear boundaries: rock, plant, and tide each with a place. The tilted strata tell of immense forces that folded and pressed them into positions they didn’t choose. In therapy, I often see how pressures shape us, and how naming our boundaries, and knowing what we will do when they are crossed, can help us hold steady when life feels overwhelming.
Some rocks fold and others crack under these enormous pressures. I often see fractures that have been healed by crystalline quartz, filling the gaps with strength and beauty. They remind me that we too can mend – not by erasing our cracks, but by integrating them into our wholeness. I find a lot of comfort in how the earth is marked by its stories, because I am no different, my body and mind are marked by mine, and it turns out that this is normal. We are resilient and adaptable creatures.
A short walk from my home, deep layers of volcanic ash – now hardened into rock called tuff – have a different message. Formed by ancient underwater eruptions, they speak of what happens when hidden energy is released. For the volcanoes, that energy brought heat and nutrients, feeding coral reefs and new life. In our lives, what feels fiery or disruptive can sometimes clear the way for new growth.
In therapy, I offer a space where we can be curious together about what is happening in you – the feelings, sensations, and patterns that surface in the moment. We might notice how past pressures have shaped you and how old beliefs still echo. Sometimes we simply sit alongside what’s here now, allowing space for it to breathe. Other times we gently explore what might help you step towards a different way of being.
It’s not about rushing or forcing change, but about meeting yourself fully and allowing the shifts that want to happen in their own time. As a counsellor I am there alongside you in that process – steady, accepting, and attuned – so you can explore safely, discover your own meanings, and grow in the directions that matter to you.
If you’re feeling spiritually untethered, navigating a life transition, or need to make sense of what has happened, I offer a space where all of you is welcome. We can explore your story at your pace, honouring both the tender and the strong, trusting that something new can take shape.
Romilly Keen
