My Pilgrim’s Progress

Original Post August 2023

I first encountered The Pilgrim’s Progress when my children were young. I read a modernized version—the original can be dense—but the story stayed with me. Even with its overt allegory and characters named things like Hopeful and Goodwill, it struck something deep.

At its core, the story is simple. Christian feels an urgent call to leave the City of Destruction and journey toward the Celestial City to relieve himself of the unbearable burden he carries. He leaves behind what is familiar and loved, travels largely alone, and encounters trials, helpers, betrayals, temptations, and long stretches of hardship. Giving up mid-journey isn’t a neutral option—it would render the entire path meaningless.

Over the years, that story has felt less like fiction and more like a mirror.

Before going further, a brief framing for those unfamiliar with Gene Keys and Human Design. Gene Keys correspond directly to Human Design gates, which themselves map onto the 64 hexagrams of the I Ching. In astrology, planets sit in degrees within signs; Human Design assigns each degree a specific gate or Gene Key, along with a line (1–6) that describes how that energy expresses itself. Where astrology blends archetypes broadly, Human Design and Gene Keys get extremely precise. After studying many personality systems, I can say plainly: nothing has given me more usable insight into my life trajectory than this one.

The Gene Keys Hologenetic Profile unfolds through three sequences. The first focuses on life work and core purpose. The second explores relationships and emotional processing. The third reveals how prosperity and success unfold—not externally, but energetically. What struck me as I moved through these sequences was how closely my life mirrored Christian’s pilgrimage.

I’m a 4/6 profile, and out of the 11 Gene Keys highlighted in my profile, five are Line 6. Line 6 carries the longest arc. It must live through all the earlier lines before it gains access to its true expression. Line 1 learns self-security through introspection. Line 2 explores natural gifts and relational ease, often unconsciously. Line 3 requires experience—often messy, painful, and destabilizing. Line 4 opens the heart to community and influence. Line 5 steps into leadership and impact. Line 6 integrates all of them across time. Like the towns that Christian moves through on his path from his City of Destruction on toward the paradise he seeks.

I can see it clearly now. My teens were deeply internal and self-protective (Line 1). My twenties were relational and exploratory (Line 2). My thirties centered on responsibility and community (Line 4). My forties pushed me into leadership and visibility (Line 5). And for the last few years, I’ve been firmly in Line 3—experience, avoidance of pressure, movement, and resistance to being pinned down.

Each Gene Key carries a Shadow, a Gift, and a Siddhi (a transcendent state). We begin in the Shadow, learn to embody the Gift, and may touch the Siddhi—not as a permanent state, but as a lived possibility. My Purpose is Gene Key 36. Its Shadow is emotional turbulence—the Dark Night of the Soul. Its Gift is humanity, earned through lived experience. Its Siddhi is pure compassion.

This means my life work requires repeated deaths of identity. Nothing I believed about myself at 15 was meant to survive intact by 50. The pain wasn’t accidental, it was formative. I had to learn how to stay present with emotional intensity so I could one day hold space for others without flinching.

The sixth-line expression of this key adds something crucial: I don’t have to announce this capacity, people feel it. Those ready to face their pain are drawn in. Those avoiding growth instinctively keep their distance.

That pattern has been present since childhood.

As a child, I disconnected from my emotional body because it overwhelmed me. I compensated by over-developing logic and practicality. Fantasy became my refuge. I lived entire parallel lives in my imagination while moving through my twenties on autopilot—doing what was expected, not what was aligned. Responsibility came early and heavily. I forced my way forward, a classic Shadow expression of Gene Key 34: force.

Looking back—through moves, careers, motherhood, homeschooling, consulting, religious exploration, personality systems, relationships gained and lost—the need for experience and movement is unmistakable. My life wasn’t “exciting.” It was demanding, exhausting, and misaligned effort stacked on misaligned effort–climbing ladders leaned against the wrong walls.

The last three years have been different. They’ve been a reprieve from forcing. A pause in the climb.

But even pilgrims can get stuck. I lingered too long in Vanity Fair, convincing myself I could sidestep the journey and pursue comfort instead. Then I encountered Gene Key 12 and recognized another Shadow: vanity—not in the shallow sense, but in the need to be distinct, different, set apart. Growth now requires relinquishing even that; no more crafting a special identity. No more attachment to how my life should look. This is not a gentle path.

The promise of the Gene Keys isn’t recognition—it’s transformation. Service without applause; impact without attachment. The quiet attainment of peace that “passes understanding.” Appropriately, my Radiance is Gene Key 6. Peace is not a personality trait for me. It’s a destiny I have to earn.

Christian reaches the Celestial City battered, betrayed, and exhausted—but undefeated. He doesn’t arrive shiny, he arrives faithful.

I often tell people I’m not especially clever. What sets me apart is tenacity. I don’t quit, even when I need rest or time to grieve. I pause, recalibrate, and let myself regain my footing, but I don’t abandon the path. As a 4/6, I’m meant to become wise counsel—to support others through terrain I’ve already crossed.

To stop now would make the entire journey meaningless.

Tenacity is my superpower. And the pilgrimage isn’t over yet.