Summary of 2025

Summary of 2025

It’s been a heck of a year. Leaving behind everything I had in pursuit of something I couldn’t explain. A strong feeling that something much greater than I could imagine was waiting for me on the other side of the veil. And so I kept going—from a desk job in the IT sector toward a future that had no clear answers, no guarantees, no safety, no familiarity, yet a sense that this is where I must follow.

Now that I look back, I can best describe the experience as leaving a nest. Taking a leap of faith and jumping into the unknown, figuring out how to extend my wings and fly. To realize how big and beautiful this world truly is, and more than anything, finding myself in it.

Moving to Switzerland was more than a change of career and country; it was a spiritual pilgrimage that had been calling upon me for a long time. Now I embraced it fully.

A year brought many experiences, challenges, humility, moments of grace, and stillness—it was one of the best years of my life. I felt like I fell in love with life itself. Each day offered beautiful moments; even suffering and discomfort became part of this wonderful experience. I was fortunate to have the solitude, which opened me up to all of it.

Analytical psychology became one of many lenses that helped me appreciate the world within and without. Art and nature provided other perspectives, and of course dreams—the guiding star that shines each day.

When I packed my heavy bags in December 2024, I did not imagine that I would have such a rollercoaster of a year. Fortunately, I had a cosy place to arrive at, which took me a month or so to find online. It was in a typical Swiss village, near a river and a mountain, 30–45 minutes away from Zurich. It’s much easier to find something outside Zurich with a good commute than inside Zurich. My travel time was filled with reading and music, and the timeliness of Swiss trains made planning easy.

The start of the semester was exciting, as if I had entered Hogwarts. I met many people, both students and lecturers (many introverts). My cohort was a group of lovely women with whom I continue this adventure. I felt like I joined a family rather than an international school—a very diverse family with many quirks, wits, and shadows, which I got to experience throughout the year. While the social circle is unique and attractive, a place of belonging, I also felt its darker allure: losing sight of the journey—the soulful pilgrimage, the destination still unknown. It can be easy to lose oneself in groups, activities, and personas built in order to belong.

The semester packaged quite a few lectures and seminars. Some were deep and profound, sensitive and thoughtful; others less so, with questionable quality. Yet all were part of the journey I was embarking on—subjects that were irrational, wild, soulful, deep, and close to my heart. I attended most lectures and seminars, gathering over 200 hours of theory in a single semester. I learned a lot, at least theoretically. Somatic experiencing came slower, requiring more solitude, time in nature, and presence.

There were many felt experiences, often arising from dreams and finding their way into drawings, poetry, or body movement. Energy storages, previously frozen, were unleashed by living a life aligned with my soul. I channeled that energy toward exploration, both inner and outer. Sometimes it looked like being a social coordinator for the school; other times, a quiet afternoon with poetry and drawing. I certainly got better at drawing. I also started improv theatre and outdoor swimming. Both complemented my creative and wilderness needs and offered a counterbalance to the intensity of studies and life in a different country.

The intensity of the semester was coupled with practical matters like finding a job and dealing with administrative requirements for living and working in Switzerland. When I found a job in a café, my permit limitations meant I could only work 15 hours a week. Before I even got my hands “dirty,” I had to leave for an unexpected psychiatric internship, which came as a wonderful surprise. I couldn’t say no to such an opportunity, as it is a fundamental requirement of the studies. I packed my things once again, ended my flat contract, and moved to Lithuania to complete my three-month internship in a psychiatric clinic.

I had some experience working in a hospital before, but this was unlike anything I had experienced. Upon arriving in Lithuania, I had to find a place to live and complete medical checks while adjusting to a new country after an intense semester abroad. It was stressful; temporary housing in the capital city can be difficult. But destiny would have it—I found a place after some back-and-forth messages.

Once housing and documents were sorted, I surrendered to the hospital experience. It was one of the most profound work experiences I have had. Working with others in a field that brought me so much joy. When I couldn’t wait to go to work each morning, I knew I was moving in the right direction. I looked forward to group sessions with patients and to observing the work of my colleagues. It felt wonderful to be part of a place that helped others in so many ways—and even more so to contribute to it. The hospital had wonderful personnel and a wide range of activities to facilitate healing and integration.

I learned a great deal from these experiences. I worked with many patients with different symptoms and diagnoses and facilitated numerous group sessions, which was a joy. I listened to many stories, for which I am deeply grateful. Most importantly, this was my first professional step away from technology. And I felt like a fish in the sea.

Being in Lithuania also offered much-needed time for introspection. Old wounds resurfaced, and I had the time and space to feel into them. Many walks followed, along with time in nature, diary entries, and specialty coffees—sometimes with a book or journal, other times with good company.

As summer slowly gave way to autumn, I returned to Switzerland for another full-on semester. Before that, I stopped at a congress of analytical psychology, where I met many wonderful people, including Lithuanian analysts. Who knew there were so many of them? It was great to reconnect. After a full week of presentations, the semester began in full swing.

I returned without a permanent flat, but kind people offered their homes, easing the transition while adding another layer of emotional intensity.

More lectures followed, along with deeper seminars—perhaps because I was more open and less guarded by my defenses. I felt like I was in water, slowly moving toward something larger and deeper. My personal analysis intensified and brought many insights. It deepened my somatic understanding of transference and countertransference, as well as topics that had previously been intellectualized. Many books were read, and many new Jungian thinkers entered my awareness.

I especially enjoyed reading Eric Neumann, Marion Woodman, Nathan Schwartz-Salant, Edward Edinger, and Donald Kalsched—whom I was fortunate to meet in person at both the congress and ISAP Zurich, where he gave a lecture. Rilke also helped me through intense moments. I had imagined that summer would be a good time to cover much of the required literature and write a symbol paper. I was mistaken. The psychiatric internship occupied most of my psychic capacity, leaving little room for anything else. Plans shifted to the autumn semester, during which I searched extensively for accommodation, attended classes, and completed the symbol paper. In hindsight, rushing so much after moving countries may not have been wise. My body needed time to adjust, yet I remained preoccupied with plans and activity, neglecting rest.

Writing became something I came to enjoy deeply. The symbol paper felt like a rite of passage, largely due to my emotional attachment to the symbol. Exploring its cultural expressions and archetypal patterns deepened my relationship with it.

Within a month and a half, I also found a comfortable flat in Zurich—an unexpected turn, given the difficulty. After moving four times this year, I was exhausted. Yet finding a permanent place close to everything brought relief after such a rollercoaster year. I am closing this year with rest, nature, solitude, music, art, movement, and over 20 books waiting for next year’s exams.

I’m not in the habit of making New Year’s resolutions. Being alive to witness beauty and paradox, within and without, feels like enough.

If you stayed and read all the way through, I wish you a magical New Year ahead.

And here are some snaps from 2025: