For much of my life, I lived disconnected from the spiritual realms within and around me.

I always sensed there was something different about me—

a quiet knowing, a deeper pull—

but I didn’t yet have the words or understanding to follow it.

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They say life can change in a single moment.

I now know that to be true.

 

In my mid-forties, without warning, my entire world shifted.

What I once believed, how I saw myself, how I moved through life—

all of it unraveled in an instant.

I didn’t go looking for a spiritual awakening.

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It found me.

And when it did, it cracked me open.

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What followed was an intense, disorienting, and deeply sacred journey of remembrance. My perception of reality shattered and rebuilt itself in ways I couldn’t have imagined.

There was grief. There was beauty.

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And there was no going back.

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Each day became a dance between surrender and discovery.

I was being shown truths I had long forgotten—

pieces of my soul calling to be reclaimed.

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The awakening wasn’t soft.

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It tested me, broke me open, and revealed the wounds I had buried.

But it also gave me the greatest gift:

The chance to truly come home to myself.

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I learned that awakening isn’t about finding something new—

It’s about remembering what’s always been there.

The healing came in layers.

In silence. In signs. In the presence of spirit.

And slowly, through devotion and trust, I returned to the truth of who I am.

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I believe we are all divinely guided.

Watched over.

Held.

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Whether through spirit guides, ancestors, angels, or loved ones beyond the veil—we are never walking alone.

And when we’re ready, the path reveals itself.

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One step. One whisper. One remembering at a time.