Walking Into the Dream

There’s a moment I keep having lately where I stop and think…Wait. Is this really my life?

Not in a bragging way. Not in a “look what I did” way. More like standing in the middle of a room you used to only see in your imagination —and realizing you’re not visiting anymore. You live here now.

It feels surreal.

For so long, my dreams felt like something I could admire from a distance. Like pretty places I wasn’t sure I was allowed to enter. But somehow — slowly, quietly, faithfully — I’ve walked into them. And now that I’m here, I can finally see what the journey was really about.

The last two years have been on a personal healing journey. Not the kind you post about for applause. The kind that changes your heartbeat. The kind that teaches your body how to feel safe again. The kind that reshapes the way you think, love, and live.

During the healing process, a significant transformation occurred: my mind, body, and soul began to align. The connection was powerful, and I reached a point where I truly understood. I now see clearly and can't unsee it. Simultaneously, I became aware of what had been causing my blindness.

And when they align, life sounds different.

It’s like the volume of the world turns down —all the noise, the performance, the pressure, the constant song-and-dance —and you finally start hearing what was there all along.

I can’t describe it any other way than this: it felt like the Creator of all things was whispering, “This has been here for you all along.”

Not in some flashy, supernatural movie scene way. In the steady, gentle way truth lands when you’re ready for it. Like a quiet remembering.

Looking back, I realize how much of my life I spent distracted. Domesticated. Indoctrinated into believing the world’s setup was the only setup available.

I was busy surviving a script I didn’t even write. Busy keeping up. Busy doing what was expected. And I didn’t fully notice how much beauty I was missing.

But I don’t say that with shame anymore.

I say it with compassion. Because sometimes your eyes can’t open until your spirit is strong enough to handle what you’ll see.

And oh… I’m seeing now.

The world feels bigger. Softer. More mine to enjoy. Not because it suddenly changed —but because I changed. Because I’ve learned how to be present in it.

And the peace that has found me lately…I don’t even have perfect words for it. It's not the fragile peace that depends on everything going right. It's the kind that holds you steady even when things aren’t. The kind that people talk about when they say “peace that surpasses understanding.”

It feels like a chime ringing inside me —clarity arriving in a way I didn’t force. A calm certainty that says, “You’re here. You’re safe. You’re becoming.”

If you’re reading this and you feel behind — you’re not. If you feel like life has been passing you by — that doesn’t mean it’s over. Sometimes the catching up happens fast once your soul wakes up. Sometimes the dream is closer than you think, waiting for the moment you finally believe you’re allowed to walk into it.

Keep healing. Keep listening. Keep daring to dream.

Because I’m learning this in real time: what’s meant for you doesn’t always arrive loud. Sometimes it arrives like a whisper you can finally hear —once you’re quiet enough inside to understand you were never forgotten.