Living From Spirit

Where the path turns again

There are moments on a path that don’t feel like breakthroughs. They don’t arrive with clarity or certainty. They come quietly, often in the middle of the night, when something inside you won’t let you sleep.

Not because something is wrong.But because something is shifting.

For a long time, I believed that the work was to come fully into the body. To be here. To feel everything. To stop escaping into understanding and instead live inside the experience of being alive.

And life made sure I did.

Grief has a way of doing that.

So does illness.

They remove the distance. They bring you face to face with your body, your limits, your tenderness, your mortality. There is no stepping outside of it.

And yet, in the middle of that descent, something else begins to open.

A deeper capacity to feel.

To love.

To soften toward what is.

What I didn’t expect was that this would not be the end of the path, but the beginning of something else.

Lately, I’ve been sensing a shift that I don’t fully understand yet. It’s not a leaving of the body, and it’s not a return to the way I lived before. It feels more like a change in where I am standing as I move through my life.

For so long, I’ve lived with one foot in the physical world and one in Spirit. Moving between them.

Touching something deeper in moments of stillness or ceremony, and then returning to the demands and rhythms of everyday life.

But I’m beginning to feel that this way of living is coming to an end.

Not because it was wrong, but because it is no longer sustainable.

.

What is emerging now feels like something quieter, and at the same time, more complete.

Not visiting Spirit.

Not reaching for it.

But living from it.

As if the ground beneath me is shifting, and instead of standing between two worlds, I am being asked to place both feet in something deeper… and to move through the physical world from there.

I don’t yet know what that fully means.

There are parts of me that hesitate. Old ideas about what that kind of life would require. Questions about what would need to be released. Subtle fears about becoming more visible, more responsible for the life I am living.

It is easier, in many ways, to be less.

Less is quieter.

Less is safer.

Less asks less of us.

But something in me no longer wants to live that way.

So I am listening.

Not trying to define it too quickly. Not trying to turn it into something I can explain. Just allowing the shift to reveal itself as I walk.

Because this is how the path has always unfolded for me.

One step.

Then another.

And somewhere along the way, I realize I am no longer standing where I once stood.

If you find yourself in a place like this—where something is changing but you don’t yet have the words for it—you are not behind, and you are not lost.

You are in the moment where the next layer of your life is beginning to take form.

And it doesn’t need to be understood yet.

It only needs to be followed.

The book that releases next week was written from the years I was not in my body—when I was surviving the life I had. This… is something else.

Remembering Myself – A Journey Through the Threads of Time