I read a version of this idea somewhere a while back. This is my version. Simple, and in my voice.
Life is not a straight line. It loops. You go around once, then you go around again with better eyes.
When you are small, you live on what I call Borrowed Maps. You take rules as facts. Parents, teachers, random grown-ups. You follow because approval feels like oxygen. Homework done. Tests passed. Smile on cue. It works until it doesn’t.
Then the friction starts. Sandpaper. You start rubbing against the script. Why these rules. Why this routine. Why work all week just to complain on weekends. You are not suddenly right. You are just awake. That is enough for that phase.
Rebellion alone does not feed you, so you put up Scaffolding. Work that pays. Habits that hold. People you can build with. Brick by brick. Most of it looks boring from the outside, but you are the one who has to live inside it, so you place things with care.
Once there is a floor under your feet, Edit Mode kicks in. You remove what drags you down. The car that was supposed to prove something proves nothing. The friendship you kept from habit teaches you more by ending than by staying. Subtraction builds space. Space builds clarity.
With less noise, you hit Clear View. Not a halo. Just a calmer lens. Fewer hot takes. More measured replies. You see your younger self everywhere and it makes you softer. Peace starts to feel better than points.
I do not think these phases are a ladder. They repeat. You can be in Sandpaper at work and Clear View at home. You can bounce back to Scaffolding after a setback. The order helps me make sense of things, but life does not always follow it.
The trap is getting stuck. Permanent Sandpaper. Endless Scaffolding. Editing until nothing is left. Parking at Clear View and calling it “arrival.” Stuck is the only real problem I have seen. Not slow. Not wrong. Stuck.
I keep it practical. I ask, which phase am I in right now. Borrowed Maps tells me to learn. Sandpaper tells me to question. Scaffolding tells me to choose and build. Edit Mode tells me to cut what costs too much of me. Clear View tells me to act from calm. I do the work that phase asks for. Then I leave when it is done.
Every phase feels final while you are in it. The rebel swears they will never sell out. The builder swears this version is forever. The editor swears they are done. The clear-sighted swears they have arrived. Then life shows up with its own plan. A loss. A win. A truth you cannot dodge. You move anyway.
If my days feel stale, I have overstayed a phase. If my life is loud and empty, I am chasing the wrong points. If my calendar is full and my gut is quiet, I stay the course. Nothing fancy. Just honest.
That is the whole note. Borrow when you must. Rub against the script until it fits. Build what you can live inside. Cut what darkens you. Look clearly and then act. Then repeat the loop at a higher level till you cannot.
Death is inevitable. Till your last breath, growth and progression are the only path. Even if you make it through every phase, you keep improving and growing till you are gone.
Kveer, signing out.
