There are times when healing does not come from doing more, fixing more, or striving harder, but from remembering who we are beneath the noise, beneath the performance, beneath the world’s distortion. And if we’re honest, many of us can feel the distortion now more than ever.

As we look around, we feel more and more that the way we live on this planet feels out of rhythm. The pace, the pressure, and the disconnection leads to a sense that something in it all is fundamentally off. The endless examples of destruction, chaos, and collapse are not isolated incidents; they’re symptoms of a deeper imbalance, both collective and personal.

Most of us sense it, feel it, and know, in some quiet place within, that the world has drifted from its center, and so have we. And yet beneath the ache, a longing begins to rise as a longing: 

• for purpose
• for clarity
• for meaning that doesn’t dissolve under the weight of everyday life
• to remember our place in the great unfolding of things.

This longing is not a flaw,  it’s a signal and the moment the spiritual quest begins. It often starts subtly: an internal discomfort, a question that won’t quiet down, a whisper that says there must be more than this. And once that whisper arises, the path appears, not all at once, not neatly, not predictably, but unmistakably.

We ask, deep in our hearts, for a way through the incoherence of the world and in that asking, something opens. Not in a dramatic flash of enlightenment, but in the mysterious, circuitous way life always moves when we are being guided. These insights come in conversations, a book, dreams, insights, and moments of stillness that lands differently.

Eventually something shifts, stirs, and invites us inward. The inner door that leads us back to our own remembrance begins to open. Healing begins here: in the choice to seek, to listen, to question, and to return to ourselves. Even in a world that feels fundamentally askew, the path home is still within reach.

It always has been.