The Circle Within: Exploring Mandalas

Lately, I’ve been sitting with the wisdom of circles. They are everywhere, the sun rising and setting, the rings inside a tree, the iris of an eye. A circle carries no start and no finish, only a wholeness that quietly holds everything. When I spend time with this truth, I feel both comforted and reminded of my place in something larger.

Mandalas have been one of my most trusted ways back to myself and that truth. They remind me that healing doesn’t move in a straight line. It’s more like a spiral, circling inward, looping back, each turn bringing me closer to my center. Over the years, I’ve turned to mandalas for so many reasons: to organize my thoughts when they feel scattered, to contain joy when it feels too big to hold, and to process grief when words aren’t enough.

When my mother recently transitioned, I found myself reaching for this practice in a new way. I began creating a series of small mandalas in a notebook I keep close by. Each circle gave me a place to lay down the feelings and thoughts that surfaced, sometimes heavy, sometimes tender, sometimes simply confusing. The shapes and colors became a language for what I couldn’t quite say. It didn’t make the grief vanish, but it helped me hold it with more gentleness.

I wonder if you’ve felt that too, that sense of being pulled in many directions, or carrying emotions too big or tangled for words. What might it feel like to imagine your life as a circle? If you placed something at its center, what would it be? If your inner world spoke in colors or patterns, what would it choose?

The word mandala comes from Sanskrit, meaning “circle.” Across cultures and centuries, this form has carried deep meaning. We see it in Tibetan sand paintings, Christian rose windows, and Native American medicine wheels. Carl Jung saw mandalas as reflections of the self, symbols of our psyche’s movement toward wholeness. However they appear, in painted, carved, woven, or sketched in the dirt, they’ve always helped us remember our place in the greater whole.

In today’s world of constant movement and noise, it’s easy to lose touch with that center. Mandala Corner offers a way back. It isn’t about creating something beautiful or “artistic.” It’s about presence. It’s about listening to what wants to take form in that circle.

Sometimes the practice helps me calm my nervous system. Other times it gives me clarity, or simply a sense of relief. Always, it reminds me that wholeness is never gone.

If you’d like to try, start simply: take a blank page and draw a circle. Inside, let your hand move however it wants, lines, shapes, colors, even scribbles. No rules, no right or wrong. Just curiosity. Pay attention to your breath as you create. Notice if something softens, even in a small way.

Curious for more?

This November, I’m opening a small monthly guided mandala-making circle. Join the interest list to be the first to receive details and register. Together, we’ll create a space to explore, make, and reconnect with your own center. Each month, we’ll work with a theme and discover what emerges—both individually and as a group.

If this speaks to you, I would be honored to have you join me.

Register Here

With care,