What more can I say that I haven’t already said?
Yet, there’s so much going on in the world, and writing is how I process it. Writing helps me make sense of the chaos, helps me find clarity in the noise. It’s how I bridge the gap between what I feel and what I understand, how I bring order to the thoughts that would otherwise spiral into overwhelm—and it can get pretty overwhelming.
Writing for me isn’t just a tool—it’s a necessity, a way to anchor myself in truth when everything else feels uncertain.
And so I’ll keep writing. Maybe you’ll keep reading.
And maybe we can make sense of it all together…
I don’t know what to make of the greater spiritual community anymore. I adore my community and the communities I’m part of, but when I widen the net, I see so much that just feels disappointing and disheartening for what a spiritual community should be.
In the spiritual community, there's an insistence that everything is an illusion, that nothing is real, that suffering is merely a state of mind to transcend, and as someone who has been on a spiritual journey her whole life and who has deepened in spiritual studies and through personal experiences in recent years, I understand this.
I understand the higher truth that reality is fluid, that everything is energy shifting and transforming, and that our perception shapes our experience. I understand that attachment to suffering can keep us stuck, and that it’s our own release of old beliefs and patterns that free us.
But I also understand that this truth has been distorted—that too often, it’s used as a way to bypass the human experience rather than engage with it.
As souls navigating this human experience, there are very real effects and consequences to what we do, what we say, and how we treat one another. To dismiss the human experience as an illusion is to gaslight reality itself.
Yes, we are souls. Yes, we are divine. But we’re also human. And the human experience—the grief, the joy, the pain, the love—matters. We came here to live it, not to bypass it. And yet, so much of the spiritual community thrives on avoidance, on denial, on invalidation of the very thing we incarnated to experience.
I see all perspectives. I always have. This, too, is part of our ascension journey—learning how to hold multiple truths and realities at once. I understand the spiritual truth that nothing is truly real, that everything is energy shifting and transforming.
But I also see how that truth, when misused, becomes a weapon—an excuse for detachment, a justification for turning away from suffering, a means of dismissing human needs and emotions as insignificant. I see how it numbs people, how it disconnects them from their empathy and isolates them from their own humanity.
And, if I’m being honest, it’s overwhelming to witness.
William Shakespeare once proclaimed, “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.”
He was ahead of his time—or maybe he was just tapped in as artists and writers tend to be. The world is a stage, yes, but the actors still bleed. The consequences are still felt. And I don’t believe enlightenment comes from ignoring that. I believe true wisdom comes from standing at the center, in the storm, holding all of it—the illusion and the reality, the soul and the human, the dream and the lived experience—and choosing to be present with it all.
That’s what I stand for. Not escapism disguised as spirituality, not detachment masquerading as enlightenment, but for the people. For honoring the human experience as sacred, for embracing the paradox of existence instead of denying it.
For the past six months, Yeshua has been one of my main mentors as I’ve navigated these energies within my own inner journey—questioning everything, examining every possible angle.
He kept bringing me back to basics of our journey—the foundation of his teachings and what the Christ-Consciousness truly is. He reminded me that he walked the path of both divinity and humanity. He wept, he grieved, he felt anguish, he knew suffering—and yet, he embodied love, unity, and grace. He didn’t dismiss pain but moved through it, transforming it with compassion. He saw the suffering of the world and met it with presence, with healing hands, with an open heart.
He transformed it, not by turning away, but by walking straight into it with love.
To embody unity isn’t to separate ourselves from the experience of being human, but to bring divinity into it. It’s seeing one another fully—not as souls detached from form, but as sacred beings living a human story.
Christ Consciousness isn’t about spiritual superiority. It’s about love in motion.
It’s about holding space for both truth and tenderness, for accountability and grace. It’s about recognizing the pain of the world and choosing not to turn away but to lean in—to heal, to uplift, to support.
I’ve observed posts, comments, and videos where teachers and channelers advise people to sit back and watch it all unfold—to detach, to simply observe, to trust that everything is happening by divine will.
And yes, all of this is true and wise guidance.
But this is also where I feel the disconnect.
What I don’t understand—what I can’t reconcile—is this idea that divine will is something separate from us. As if we’re not also divine. As if we’re not active participants in creation, in the unfolding of this reality.
How did we get to a place where spirituality is being used to justify passivity?
Yes, divine order exists. Yes, the universe moves in ways we can’t always comprehend. But does that mean we’re meant to be passive observers, waiting for something outside of us to intervene? Does that mean we relinquish our role in shaping the world, in shifting the energy, in creating change?
I see people speaking as though divine will is something external—some grand cosmic force orchestrating everything without our participation, as if we’re merely here to watch it all play out like an audience at a theater. But we’re not spectators to our own lives. We’re co-creators. We’re not separate from divine will—we’re an expression of it.
We’re the ones through which change happens.
And yet, I see so many using spirituality as an excuse to disengage, to avoid discomfort, to sit in detachment and call it surrender.
Surrender isn’t inaction.
Trust isn’t passivity.
Faith isn’t sitting back and waiting.
Faith is embodied. It moves. It acts. It creates.
We were never meant to be bystanders in our own evolution. We were never meant to separate ourselves from the unfolding of this world. And yet, so many in the spiritual community are doing just that—mistaking detachment for mastery, mistaking inaction for trust, mistaking avoidance for peace.
And I just don’t understand it.
We are not powerless.
You have the power to shift it. That power isn’t outside of you. It’s not in someone else’s hands. It’s not waiting in the wings for some external force to set things right.
It’s within you.
You’re meant to take an active role—not to wait for someone else to change things for you. Not to wait for a savior, a guru, or some divine intervention to course-correct what feels out of alignment. Your self-mastery comes from your active participation in life.
That’s what embodiment is. That’s what true spiritual growth is.
And yet, this is the piece so many are missing. The more we embody unity, the more we anchor into action, the more we take responsibility for our lives—the more we create the collective shift. What we’re witnessing in this division isn’t just external forces at play. It’s the result of passivity, bypassing, and avoidance that have become far too normalized in the spiritual community.
Too many are waiting for something outside of themselves to do the hard work—the deep work. Waiting for the energy to shift. Waiting for humanity to “wake up.” Waiting for the universe to step in. But spirituality isn’t just meditation and yoga. It’s not just affirmations and energy work.
It’s embodiment.
Who are you being? How are you showing up in your life, in your relationships, in your choices? How are you contributing to the world, not just in theory but in action?
The truth is, I feel deeply disheartened by how spirituality has been distorted into yet another means of avoidance—another way to separate from the world instead of engaging with it. Instead of using spirituality to connect deeper with life, many are using it as a shield, an excuse for inaction, detachment, and an unwillingness to face the complexities of existence.
And that’s so painful to witness.
Because spirituality was never meant to pull us away from life—it was meant to bring us fully into it.
This is why I teach grounded spirituality—because I refuse to perpetuate the illusion that enlightenment means floating above life. True spirituality is being rooted in the here and now. It’s the full integration of the divine and the human. It’s not just speaking about unity—it’s embodying it. It’s standing firm in integrity, in love, in self-awareness, and in action. It’s meeting the world, not avoiding it. It’s facing discomfort, taking responsibility for our own growth, and understanding that the shift we desire begins within us, but it doesn’t end there.
It’s frustrating, watching it unfold like this. Because not only do I know what’s possible, I can see the unity rising up beneath the surface in everyday people, and I want to shout to the spiritual community—do you see? Do you see what happens when we come together in active participation, not in passivity? Do you see what happens when we remember our humanity and stand up for each other?
When we remember each other?
Being human isn’t a flaw to be transcended. It’s the whole reason we’re here.
This is my lesson, too, I know.
To stand in this truth—to trust what I feel at the core of my being and to resist the pull of frustration and despair.
I will always believe that it’s our presence, our love, our willigness to embody unity and take responsibility for our part in the world that is the path to Christ- Consciousness.