Volcano Soul: What Iceland Taught Me About Holding It All

Iceland: The Land of Fire, Ice… and Something Deeper

I came to Iceland expecting beauty. I didn’t expect it to mirror the deepest parts of my emotional life.

Here, volcanoes sleep until they split the earth open.
Waterfalls crash down cliffs with force and grace.
Black sand beaches are stunning—but if you’re not careful, they can take your life.

And I thought: This is what it feels like to be human.

Grindavík and the Edge of Safety

In 2023, the town of Grindavík faced what most of us fear—a sudden shift, an unplanned rupture. The earth cracked. Lava threatened. People were evacuated with no promise of return.

I thought about how many of us live like this:
Calm on the surface, chaos beneath.
Trying to stay grounded while something inside us wants to break.

The Volcano Inside You

In neuroscience, we know the body holds stress and trauma like underground pressure.
Push it down long enough, and it will find a way out.
Through burnout. Rage. Anxiety. A moment where you finally say,
“I can’t keep doing this.”

That’s your eruption.
And it’s not failure—it’s release.
A return to aliveness.

Skógafoss and the Sacred Power of Water

I stood in front of Skógafoss, one of Iceland’s most powerful waterfalls. It was breathtaking—roaring, crashing, constant.

And in that moment, I realized:

This is what healing sounds like.
Not quiet. Not polite.
But wild. Alive. Free.

Waterfalls don’t ask for permission to flow. They don’t fear their own force.
They let it move—and so should we.

Reynisfjara: The Black Sand Warning

Then came the black sand beach—Reynisfjara.
Gorgeous. Otherworldly.
And deadly.

Sneaker waves look harmless. Then they drag you under.
That’s what unspoken grief can do.
That’s what unprocessed trauma feels like.

Soft. Until it isn’t.

This beach doesn’t just ask for your awe—it asks for your respect.
So do your emotions.

Let the Land Remind You Who You Are

Iceland doesn’t hide its contradictions.
It holds fire, ice, wind, water, and time.
And so do we.

You are not meant to stay calm forever.
You are meant to erupt, to cry, to burn, to soften.

To let go.
To be reshaped.
To rise again.

Final Reflection

If you’re standing near the edge—if your heart feels heavy, or your soul feels full—know this:

You are not breaking. You are becoming.

Let the fire move through.
Let the water fall.
Let the wave crash and return.
Then rebuild.

Because you are like Iceland.
Unpredictable. Untamed. And absolutely breathtaking.