The Unknown Current
When the world feels still enough to listen, have you noticed grace moving through you — not as emotion to feel, but as alignment already happening within?
Wisdom is how you live.
When the world feels still enough to listen, have you noticed grace moving through you — not as emotion to feel, but as alignment already happening within?
I’m not trying to change the world. I’ve just chosen to be completely changed by it.
A reflection on how inherited protection becomes conditioning — and how presence restores the balance between prosperity and pain, want and need.
Logic builds systems. Trust sustains them.
When logic reaches its limits, it doesn’t collapse — it transforms into trust.
Because the moment you stop needing to understand everything, you start belonging to it.
Sometimes the songs we sing badly stay with us the longest. “Have Thine Own Way, Lord” was one of those for me—a melody I once mumbled through, now a prayer that shapes the way I live. What I missed in tune, I’ve learned in time: that grace doesn’t need perfection to be heard. It only asks that we stay soft enough to be shaped.
This past year has been one of letting go, following sparks, facing fear, and listening for whispers. Along the way I’ve remembered faith as my compass — Grace, Presence, and Spark — and begun to see life not as poles in opposition, but as the thread in between that makes us whole. Mid-life, I’ve found, is not a crisis but a crossing.
Time is not abundant — it is fragile, fleeting, and holy. This reflection explores what it means to serve not out of convenience but out of urgency, recognizing that life itself is the gift and how we spend it is the offering back.
Hustlers have become role models, teaching exhaustion as ambition. Unless we choose presence over hustle, we risk passing down scarcity instead of care.
We live inside architectures we didn’t build — family, faith, culture. Most stay invisible until they crack, and in the cracks longing shows itself.
Not skills. Not senses. Just six choices we make every day—three that make us more human, and three that slowly pull us away from ourselves.