Wellness – Stillness Awaits

2025-07-09

The Absurdity of “Earning a Living”

From the moment we’re born, a subtle program begins to install itself into our consciousness. It’s not malicious, but it is insidious — a quiet mantra whispered into our upbringing, our schooling, our societal roles: You must earn a living. Say it aloud, and you might not even flinch. It’s so normal, so accepted, so woven into the tapestry of our modern existence that we rarely stop to ask, Wait… earn what?

Let’s pause. Take those three words apart: earning a living.

Isn’t it strange — absurd even — that we must earn the right to live? That our mere existence isn’t enough, but must be justified by effort, output, productivity, and performance? That we must do something in order to be granted what is already ours by nature?

A bird does not earn the right to sing at sunrise.
A tree does not file taxes to keep growing towards the sky.
A river does not justify its flow.

And yet, humans — the only species with such complex cognition — have created a system where life itself is something we must pay for. Food, shelter, water, healthcare, time — all fundamental components of life — are placed behind invisible gates, locked with wages, degrees, and hours worked. Somehow, we’ve agreed to this arrangement. Worse, we rarely question it.

We call it “normal.”

But imagine explaining this to a child — not one already conditioned by society, but one fresh, curious, untainted. You’d have to say, “Yes, sweetheart, I know you were born with lungs that breathe air and a heart that beats without effort, but in order to keep doing that — to have a place to sleep, food to eat, and moments of joy — you must labor, sacrifice, and prove your worth every step of the way.” It sounds cruel, doesn’t it?

And yet, we wear it as a badge of honor. “I work hard to earn a living.” We bond over burnout, pride ourselves on long hours, sacrifice our health, time, and passions just to stay afloat — all while the world spins, the sun rises for free, and the earth continues to provide more than enough for all of us… if only we didn’t gate it with made-up systems and scarcity mindsets.

This isn’t to say work is bad. Meaningful work, contribution, creativity, and service — these are beautiful, human things. But work to survive? That’s a prison dressed up as purpose. There’s a vast difference between working to express life and working to earn the right to live it.

We’ve mistaken survival for success.
We’ve glorified struggle.
We’ve turned life into a transaction.

The real question is: what if we stopped chasing the concept of earning life and started experiencing it? What if we returned to the truth that our worth is not tied to our output? That our value is not measured in productivity? That to be alive is already the miracle — and we’ve already earned it just by being here.

So the next time someone says, “I’m just trying to earn a living,” maybe pause for a moment and let the absurdity of that statement sink in. Then smile, because you’ve seen the joke that humanity’s been playing on itself for generations.

And maybe, just maybe, you’ll stop trying so hard to earn life — and start living it instead.

2025-07-09

The Currency of Energy: Why Are We Draining Ourselves to Create More?

In the grand scheme of things, everything is energy.

Our thoughts are energy.
Our emotions, our actions, even the silent spaces between our breaths—energy.
The sun itself, pouring its light upon us every day without condition, is a form of energy. It gives freely, without asking for anything in return.

And yet, as human beings, we’ve created a paradox.

We spend our days draining our own energy—mentally, emotionally, physically—to try and create more energy in the form of money. And what do we often use that money for? To buy things, experiences, or temporary relief that… once again drains us. It’s like trying to quench thirst with saltwater.

We’ve built a culture that prioritizes productivity over presence.
We glorify busyness.
We sacrifice rest, joy, creativity, and even our health—all in the name of “earning a living.”

But what if the living was never meant to be earned?

Somewhere along the way, we stopped trusting the natural flow of life. We stopped seeing ourselves as part of the same ecosystem that provides freely—sunlight, breath, nourishment, beauty—and instead started believing that our worth must be proven, our time monetized, our value validated.

Money is not the enemy here.
It’s simply a symbol—a placeholder for stored energy, a collective agreement.
But the problem arises when we confuse the symbol with the source. When we think accumulating more money means accumulating more value, more life, more safety… when in reality, we’re often losing energy just to maintain the illusion of having it.

So maybe the real question isn’t: How do I make more energy (money) to feel alive?
Maybe the question is: Why am I giving so much of my life-force to things that don’t feed me?

Real energy doesn’t come from grinding.
It comes from alignment.
When who you are, what you do, and what you value are in harmony.
When you give from overflow, not depletion.
When your energy flows like the sun—freely, naturally, joyfully.

Because we were never meant to burn out just to survive.
We were meant to radiate to thrive.

2025-07-09

The Invisible Cage: How Labels Limit Our Reality

“You are not a label. You are not even a name. You are a living, breathing mystery trying to define the infinite with a few borrowed words.”

We live in a world wrapped in labels — neatly packaged, easily understood, and socially accepted. From the moment we are born, we are given names, identities, genders, roles, diagnoses, beliefs, and affiliations. These labels give us a sense of belonging, structure, and even safety. But as comforting as they seem, they often become the very cages that confine our reality.

The Illusion of Definition

Labels attempt to define something that is in constant motion: you. When we say “I’m an introvert” or “I’m bad at math” or “I’m spiritual but not religious,” we are drawing lines around who we think we are. But identity, like nature, is not a fixed point. It’s a flowing river. The moment you define it, you stop watching it move.

A label is a map, not the territory. It’s a symbol, not the substance. And when we mistake the map for the land, we stop exploring what’s actually out there.

The Cost of Certainty

The more we cling to labels, the more we limit our perception of what is possible — for ourselves and others.

A child labeled as “shy” may never be encouraged to speak up.
A man labeled as “strong” may never feel safe to cry.
A person labeled with a diagnosis may begin to live only within the parameters of that condition.
A spiritual seeker who labels themselves as “enlightened” may no longer allow themselves to grow.

Labels feed our desire for certainty in an uncertain world. But the need for certainty often sacrifices curiosity, and without curiosity, transformation becomes impossible.

Realizing the Trap

The first step to liberation is awareness. Notice how often you use labels in your thoughts and speech. Ask yourself:

Am I using this label to understand something, or to avoid deeper inquiry?
Is this label freeing me or confining me?
Who was I before I believed this about myself?

The more you catch yourself in the act of labeling, the more you realize how reflexive and unconscious it has become. We don’t label reality because it’s true — we label it because it’s easier.

Expanding the Limits of Thought

To move beyond the limits of labels is to become deeply present to what is — without rushing to name it. This is where mindfulness becomes a radical act. When we observe our experiences without categorizing them, something shifts: the world becomes more alive, more mysterious, more fluid.

Here are some ways to begin:

Replace Labels with Observations
Instead of “She’s rude,” say “She interrupted me during a conversation.” Notice how it feels more open, less reactive.
Practice Beginner’s Mind
Approach people, places, even your own emotions as if you’ve never encountered them before. Drop the story. Watch what arises.
Use Language Lightly
Understand that words are just tools. Use them with humility, knowing they can never fully capture the infinite.
Let Yourself Be Unlabeled
You don’t have to be consistent. You can be strong one moment and vulnerable the next. You can love something today and outgrow it tomorrow. That’s not hypocrisy — it’s being alive.
Hold Paradox
True freedom comes when we allow contradictory things to exist within us. You can be both gentle and fierce, grounded and free, logical and mystical. Labels can’t hold paradox, but your soul can.

In the End

Reality does not need to be labeled to be real. It just is. And the more we release ourselves from the grip of definition, the more space we create for possibility. Life doesn’t ask you to be anything — it only asks you to show up, raw and real.

You are not your name.
You are not your roles.
You are not your past.
You are the space where all of that arises.

The question is:
Can you live without a label long enough to find out who you truly are?

2025-07-07

Discipline – What is it all about?

We often associate discipline with external rigidity: strict schedules, rules, punishments, or a system imposed on us by others—whether it’s teachers, society, religion, or even the personal development industry. But that kind of discipline can feel suffocating, especially when it doesn’t take into account the uniqueness of our inner rhythm.

True discipline—soulful discipline—is not the suppression of our nature but the conscious alignment with it.

It’s the ability to know yourself so well that you move with clarity, consistency, and care. It’s honoring your energy cycles, your emotional needs, your creative bursts. It’s choosing devotion over duty, intention over expectation.

When we follow someone else’s discipline without discernment, we risk betraying our own nature. We may be praised for being “disciplined,” but inside, we may feel dull, disconnected, or joyless.

Mastery of the self means knowing when to rest and when to rise.
It means following through not because someone told you to, but because your inner being has chosen it.
It means structure that supports freedom, not restricts it.

In this light, discipline becomes less about obedience and more about sacred commitment—to your joy, your truth, and your becoming.

2025-07-07

The Paradox of Being Human

We often hold others to a standard of unwavering consistency. When someone goes against their word, changes their stance, or contradicts themselves, we’re quick to label them as unreliable, hypocritical, or two-faced. But if we’re honest — brutally honest — we must admit that we, too, contain contradictions.

To be human is to be paradoxical.
We carry within us both the desire to be understood and the tendency to hide.
We long for stability, yet we are constantly evolving.
We value truth, yet we sometimes lie — even if just to ourselves.
We hold morals, yet we falter.
We make vows, and yet we forget, shift, change.

These aren’t moral failings; they are thresholds of awareness.
When we see someone break their word, it hurts — not just because they broke it, but because we, too, know what it means to feel split between two truths.
It is only by recognizing the paradox within ourselves that we can offer grace to others.

Contradiction isn’t always hypocrisy. Sometimes it’s growth.
Sometimes, to realize the value of honesty, you must feel the weight of a lie.
To know loyalty, you must encounter betrayal — whether your own or someone else’s.
We can’t understand the light unless we’ve stood in the dark.

So next time someone shows you their inconsistency, look inward.
Not to excuse, but to remember:
We are all learning to become whole — one paradox at a time.

2025-07-05

What Alan Watts Would Call a Happening

There are certain moments in life that seem to unfold without effort.

Not because you planned for them.

Not because you earned them.

Not even because you were ready.

They just… happen.

Alan Watts called these moments “happenings.”

They are not tasks.

They are not lessons.

They are not punishments or rewards.

A happening isn’t done to you, nor is it for you.

It simply is.

Like a breeze rustling through the leaves.

Like the tide coming in.

Like laughter erupting in the middle of silence.

The happening is life moving through form—without permission, without apology, and without agenda.

But here’s the subtle grace of it:

While a happening doesn’t revolve around you, something remarkable occurs when you begin to resonate with it.

Not resist it.

Not analyze it.

Not control it.

But meet it.

You and the happening begin to merge, not as two separate entities, but as one synchronized expression of presence.

Like a musician becoming indistinguishable from the music.

Like a dancer being danced.

When resonance occurs, the happening is no longer “out there.”

It is not “yours,” yet it is you.

It becomes the unfolding of your being in perfect rhythm with the cosmos.

This is the beauty.

Not that something happened to you.

Not that something happened for you.

But that you were in harmony with the happening itself.

That you were available enough, quiet enough, alive enough to notice:

Life is not something you control. It is something you meet.

And when you meet it with stillness and wonder,

with humility and presence,

the happening becomes a sacred echo of your own nature.

You weren’t chasing the moment.

You were the moment.

Just… happening.

2025-07-04

Relearning to See: A Journey Back to Wholeness

From the moment we’re born, we begin to learn how to perceive the world—not through conscious choice, but through the silent, ever-present influence of those around us. Before we speak a word, we absorb the tones of voices. Before we walk, we learn the emotional terrain of a room. Our perception of life—of safety, love, belonging, success, and even self-worth—begins not with us, but through the lens handed to us by others.

Parents, teachers, society, culture—each plays a role. Not maliciously, but unknowingly. Most of the people who shaped our early view of the world were simply repeating patterns they, too, were given. They offered us the tools they had, even if those tools were chipped, rusty, or no longer served their purpose.

We learned to be cautious with our joy, to shrink when we took up too much space, to fear failure, to chase approval, to measure worth in productivity, and to equate love with condition. These weren’t lessons spoken aloud; they were absorbed in glances, in silence, in what was praised or ignored. And so, like little mirrors, we reflected back the world we thought was true.

But here’s the quiet revolution: we can relearn.

We can question the lenses. We can step back and ask, What if the world isn’t what I was taught to see? What if there’s more kindness, more mystery, more freedom, more permission than I believed? What if I no longer need to protect myself from everything—because I’m no longer a child with no choice?

Relearning doesn’t mean blaming those who taught us. It means forgiving them—for what they didn’t know, for what they carried, for what they didn’t have the power or consciousness to see. It means holding space for the truth that most of our caregivers were doing their best within the limitations of their own stories.

Grace, then, becomes the soil of transformation. We don’t need to rip out old roots with anger or shame. We can gently loosen them with understanding. We can begin again—not from scratch, but from awareness. We can teach ourselves to see with new eyes.

To look in the mirror and see beauty, not deficiency.
To sit in stillness and hear guidance, not just noise.
To feel an emotion and not fear it, but welcome it like an old friend.
To forgive ourselves for all the years we didn’t know better.
To forgive others for all the years they didn’t either.

Relearning how to perceive the world is an act of deep courage. But it is also an act of deep love. Love for the child we were. Love for the adult we are becoming. And love for all the humans who are still waking up, one gentle shift at a time.

You are not behind.
You are not broken.
You are simply returning—to a way of seeing that was always yours, buried beneath the noise.

Let this be your reminder: You are allowed to begin again.

2025-07-04

Becoming the Environment for Love to Grow

People don’t bloom because we tell them to.

They bloom because the environment feels safe enough, warm enough, and spacious enough for them to unfold who they already are.

In relationships—romantic, platonic, or familial—we often think our role is to fix, advise, or point out what someone else needs to change. We mistake vigilance for love, feedback for support, reminders for care.

But the truth is: most people already know.

They already carry the weight of their own habits, struggles, regrets, and inner dialogue. And when someone keeps pointing them out, especially when they’re actively trying to change, it doesn’t always help—it often reinforces shame. It can sound like:
“I don’t see who you’re becoming. I only see who you were.”

We don’t heal under a microscope. We heal in gardens.

What if love isn’t about managing each other, but about cultivating space where someone can grow into who they’re trying to become?

What if we could be the environment that says:

“I believe you are changing, even when it’s slow.”
“You don’t have to earn a fresh start every time—we can begin again, now.”
“I see your effort, not just your errors.”

To love someone is not to keep them on a leash of their past. It is to hold the door open for their future—even when it takes time for them to walk through it.

And sometimes, that future arrives in subtle shifts: in the moment they pause before reacting. In the apology that comes quicker. In the way they begin to soften where they once guarded.

If we want to be in meaningful, lasting relationships, we have to ask ourselves:

Am I an environment where someone feels safe to evolve? Or do I only love the version of them that doesn’t make me uncomfortable?

To grow is to stumble. To love is to remember.

And to stay is to water each other, not with critique, but with faith in the unfolding.

2025-06-30

Cosmic Sex: Where Spirit Meets Skin

In a world so often obsessed with performance, appearance, and outcome, the idea of cosmic sex may seem foreign—perhaps even mystical. But at its heart, it is not about escapism or fantasy. It is about presence. A sacred merging of body and soul. A remembrance of what it truly means to be with someone—not just physically, but emotionally, energetically, and spiritually.

Cosmic sex is not simply a physical act of pleasure. It is a divine exchange between two souls who choose to fully surrender—not just in body, but in heart, mind, and spirit. It is a connection that transcends the flesh and becomes a potent source of healing, awakening, and deep unity. When approached with reverence, intention, and love, it becomes a portal for transformation.

The Temple of the Body

When a man enters his woman in this sacred way, he does not merely seek release—he seeks reverence. He approaches her as a living temple. His presence is not about taking, but offering. Offering his stillness, his attention, his protection, his love.

He touches not just her body, but the soul within it.

And when she feels this, when she knows she is being truly seen, cherished, and honored—not for what she looks like, but for who she is—she begins to open. Not just physically, but emotionally. Energetically. Spiritually.

She becomes not passive, but powerful. She rises—not in resistance, but in radiance. Her feminine essence awakens, flowing through her body like light through stained glass. She receives not because she must, but because she wants to. Because she feels safe. And in that safety, she becomes infinite.

A Dance of Sacred Energies

This isn’t the typical dance of lust. It is a communion of polarities—masculine presence and feminine energy, Shiva and Shakti, yin and yang. Their union creates a rhythmic spiral, a wave of mutual giving and receiving.

Every breath is a thread. Every kiss, a mantra. Every movement, a message:

“I see you.”
“I honor you.”
“I am here.”

This is not sex as we’ve been taught to understand it. This is soul work. Energetic healing. An initiation into wholeness.

As the two bodies move together in this sacred rhythm, something deeper stirs. Past pain may rise and dissolve. Emotions once buried begin to surface and soften. There may be tears—not from sadness, but from the sheer relief of being finally met. Fully. Without condition.

The Alchemy of Union

Cosmic sex is not about climax. It is about connection.

Orgasm is not the goal—it is the echo. The true ecstasy lies in the meeting. In the trust. In the surrender. In the moment where two become one—not in form, but in frequency.

And when the bodies finally rest, breathless and still, what remains is not separation, but fusion. There is no “I” and “you.” There is only us. One breath. One heartbeat. One radiant presence that feels older than time and more sacred than language.

It is in this place that something ancient is remembered—
that love is not something we do,
but something we become.

Final Thoughts

Cosmic sex is a return to the sacred. A reminder that our bodies are not tools, but temples. That pleasure is not selfish, but spiritual. That love, when rooted in presence and devotion, can become a healing force far greater than any therapy or technique.

This kind of intimacy asks more of us. It asks us to slow down. To listen. To feel. To be. To meet one another with reverence, and to make love as if the universe is watching—because in truth, it is.

May we all find the courage to love this deeply.
To touch this consciously.
To meet another soul, not with performance…
but with presence.

2025-02-15

Is Free Will an Illusion? The Soul’s Pre-Planned Journey and the God Within

We often believe that we are in control of our choices, that free will defines our ability to shape our lives. But what if free will is just an illusion? What if, before we were born, we had already mapped out our journey, setting the experiences, challenges, and choices we would encounter?

This perspective suggests something profound: that we are not merely humans making decisions, but divine beings who pre-planned our own path. In essence, we are our own god, orchestrating our experiences for a greater purpose.

The Illusion of Choice

At first glance, life seems like a series of choices. We decide what to eat, where to work, whom to love. Yet, many philosophers, neuroscientists, and spiritual teachers argue that our decisions are not as free as they appear.

• Science & Determinism: Neuroscientific studies suggest that decisions are made in the brain before we consciously register them. This implies that free will may be an afterthought rather than the cause of our actions.

• Karma & Destiny: Many spiritual traditions teach that our actions are influenced by past karma, shaping our circumstances long before we make a decision.

• The Soul’s Blueprint: Some mystical teachings propose that before incarnation, the soul chooses its lessons, experiences, and even key relationships, creating a script that we follow once born.

If this is true, then what feels like free will is actually us playing out a divine script—a script we ourselves wrote.

The Forgotten Truth: We Are the Creators

This perspective doesn’t make life meaningless. On the contrary, it reveals something empowering: we are not victims of fate, but the architects of our reality.

Imagine watching a movie you wrote but temporarily forgetting you were the writer. You feel immersed in the characters, the ups and downs, believing in every choice made. Then, one day, you remember: This was my creation all along.

Spiritual awakening is the process of remembering. It’s realizing that every experience—joy, suffering, success, failure—was chosen for a reason. Even what seems like chaos is part of a deeper harmony.

If You Pre-Planned Your Life, What Changes?

The question is no longer “What should I choose?” but “What did I come here to experience?” Instead of resisting life, we begin to trust it. Challenges become opportunities for growth. Suffering becomes a lesson rather than punishment.

When we remember that we are both the experiencer and the creator, we shift from fear to empowerment, from struggle to surrender. The divine is not something outside of us—it is us.

So, the next time life presents you with a choice, ask yourself:

“Did I already choose this before I was born? And if so, what am I here to learn?”

The answer may surprise you.