3 lessons...

to remain centred and grounded no matter what is happening around you.

It’s the last day of October 2024. The veil is thin. The spirits and ancestors are calling my name.

I ask them.

What do I need to know, for the next steps of my life, now?

They reply in chorus.

What will I sacrifice to receive the gifts I long for:
love,
truth and
happiness?

I always sacrifice the same thing.

The illusion of certainty, of a guaranteed reality, a blind belief in absolutes.

I sacrifice the comforting fantasy that I understand the world and know what will come next. In doing so I am liberated from despair and disbelief every time the world changes.

Because when you are so close to the nexus of your soul it’s easy to remain centred and grounded no matter what is happening around you.

They gift me 3 lessons.

☾

1. Love

The spiritual path, at its true essence, is the path of love.

But like the universe itself—ever-expanding, ever-evolving—our understanding of love's expression must also transform.

When I first threaded spirituality into my life in my early twenties, it was all about detachment: being the witness, the observer, the one who floats above life's currents. We thought enlightenment meant watching life unfold from a safe distance, like viewing a play through opera glasses. How naive we were, how incomplete our understanding.

My ancestors chant.

The veil has thinned not just between worlds, but between being and doing.

Spirituality has metamorphosed from observant to immersive. From 'being' love to 'acting' from love. From theoretical to embodied.

Their question echoes with each heartbeat:

How are you, as a spiritual being wearing human skin, actively engaging with life? Now? And now? And now? Are your actions in alignment with your thoughts, your words, your essence? The question persists like a pulse: Now? And now? And now?

There's not much room left for lies in this new spiritual landscape. Incongruence burns like acid on bare skin. I feel it in my bones when my actions betray my truth.

The ancestors whisper.

True spirituality isn't about escaping the human experience—it's about diving deeper into its waters, letting every wave of emotion and experience wash over you while keeping your heart open and your spirit anchored in love.

Like the ancient Sufi mystic Rumi once wrote: "Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it."

In this age of quickening, love demands more than passive observation. It demands action, engagement, embodiment. It asks us to be both the lover and the beloved, the observer and the observed, the dancer and the dance.

☾

2. Truth

Truth begins at home, in the sacred temple of self.

For eleven years, I've walked the path of the independent creator—mentor, writer, artist, weaving stories and wisdom into the world's tapestry.

The ancestors echo.

This truth is both ancient and immediate: your feminine power, your creative force, your accumulated wisdom—these are not merely gifts to be scattered like seeds in the wind, but precious medicines to be properly valued and consciously shared. The old way of endless giving must transform into mindful offering.

I feel resistance rise within me. A part of my spirit wants to create endlessly, to pour forth like a spring, making everything freely available to all who thirst. But the ancestors remind me: that even the most sacred springs are often protected by temple walls.

The ancestors tell me to listen carefully.

Your work needs more structure now. Put your best writing behind a paywall—people value what they pay for. Keep sharing some content freely to draw in those who resonate, but make your deepest insights exclusive. Create a clear journey for your people. Your time is finite. Your energy is precious. Your wisdom is valuable. Price it accordingly.

True abundance flows not from endless giving, but from rightful exchange. When I value myself appropriately, I teach others how to value themselves. When I protect my energy wisely, I show others how to honour their own boundaries. When I price my work consciously, I demonstrate that spiritual wisdom and material respect can dance together in harmony.

This is the new paradigm of feminine leadership: not the martyr who gives until she's empty, but the woman who knows her worth, the creatrix who channels her gifts with discernment, the wise woman who understands that proper boundaries don't limit her light—they help it shine more brightly.

☾

3. Happiness

The ancestors laugh.

You cannot create on the outside what you haven't first embodied on the inside.

I understand now. I've been trying to force my environment to match my longing for idleness. This approach caught me frantically rearranging my external world to create space for stillness.

I must first learn to be idle within myself, even amidst activity.

To cultivate that sense of unhurried presence in my own being, regardless of external circumstances. To embody that quality of being "gloriously, unapologetically present" in my own nervous system before I can manifest it in my life.

Just as I became my own anchor, I must become my own stillness.

It's about transforming my internal relationship with time, productivity, and presence. About being able to walk slowly even when the world runs, to remain unhurried even amidst deadlines, to stay connected to that deep current of peace even when the surface of life ripples with activity.

The ancestors nod.

The outer world will reshape itself once you've reshaped your inner landscape. But you must do the inner work first. Always first.

☾

The veil is thin and with it old illusions fall away.

My ancestors' gifts are living instructions for navigating this complex world.