The moment you are cast out
Here’s the truth no one warns you about: when you call on the universe to show you the way, it doesn’t always arrive in soft whispers. Sometimes it answers with fire.
It tears down the life you built, the habits you wore like armour, the patterns you clung to for safety. It doesn’t ask permission. It burns. It unravels. It casts you out of everything familiar. And that’s when you know: the old chapter isn’t just closing. It’s dead. There is no going back.
That exile you feel? That’s the threshold. The initiation. The death and rebirth moment no one romanticises enough.
If you want to change the world, change yourself first.
I used to believe I belonged in the corporate world. Thought I could be one of those people “changing the world.” What a lie. It was theatre. Puppets dancing for applause, performing righteousness when it was trending. Strategies like pretty spells, empty, fragile, meaningless.
I asked myself: Am I their puppet too? Why am I kneeling to this illusion?
Because here’s the thing: these weren’t souls ready to face their shadows. They weren’t serpent-skinned enough to shed what no longer served. They weren’t willing to burn. They blamed. They postured. They hid.
Once you see that, the veil doesn’t just slip off. It shatters. The walls fall. And the life you built? Gone, because it was never really yours.
That chaos? That’s sacred. Because it’s the moment creation begins.
Your real blueprint starts breathing.
Your true form, the one you buried to survive, finally pushes through.
So let me ask you,
What is it you truly desire?
Not the hunger they handed you.
Not the mask you wore to fit in.
The real hunger. The one that’s been clawing at your bones since the beginning.
And if everything you thought you were burned to ash,
what would rise from the fire?
What would your true form look like?
