Between the Cave and the Sun: Learning to Step Out When You Feel Stuck

Melanie Federline
Sep 2
2 min read

Stepping Out of the Cave

The Safety of My Cave

I sit in the darkness, avoiding the Sun, willing myself to step out into the warmth for even just a few minutes.

I never regret it when I do—but then I retreat again. Back to my cave. Back to the place that feels safe, predictable, and familiar.

My yard is a strange little oasis in the middle of a concrete desert, alive with buzzing insects, spiky grass, and the constant hum of traffic just a few feet away. And yet, instead of settling into the vibrancy of it all, I retreat.

The cave feels easier, even if it also feels confining.

The Sun Always Reminds Me

When I do step outside, the Sun greets me like a reminder that I am alive, even on days I don’t feel like it.

It’s grounding. It’s warm. It’s life.

But without a purpose to stay out there, boredom creeps in. My heightened senses become too aware of every movement, every sound, every little creature stirring.

I start hoping they’ll leave me be, and soon I slip back inside.

The Pattern I Can’t Ignore

Lately, I’ve realized something: when I feel stuck in my life, it’s often because I literally am.

I see the same walls, breathe the same energy, and repeat the same motions day after day.

I’ve become a product of my own making—comfortable but confined.

And it wasn’t always this way.

Am I Meant to Stay Hidden?

Sometimes I wonder if I’m only meant to venture out briefly, returning again and again to the cave.

Or maybe I’m supposed to learn how to live in the open.

Right now, even imagining that feels exhausting.

Is that exhaustion a sign it isn’t right for me?

Or is it simply the weight of comfort—the heaviness of a life lived inside?

Learning to Step Out, Even Briefly

I don’t have all the answers.

But I do know this: every time I step into the Sun, even for a moment, it feels like truth. It feels like life.

And maybe the lesson isn’t about abandoning the cave completely.

Maybe it’s about learning to honor both—retreat when I need to, but also push myself into the light often enough to remember that I am alive, and the world is still moving, still calling me forward.

Choosing Sunlight, One Step at a Time

Maybe the journey isn’t about leaving the cave behind forever.

Maybe it’s about learning to step into the light—even for a few breaths, a few minutes—so I don’t forget that I am alive, that life is still moving around me, and that I have a place in it.

Every step outside is a small act of courage, and every return to the cave is a reminder that rest is part of the process too.

Melanie Federline 9/2/2025