Trust That You'll Know It When You Feel It
I was folding laundry and listening to my Chani reading for the week, when this feeling came over me.
Heavy and light at the same time, which isn’t usually how it goes for me.
My body felt like lead. My emotions felt featherweight. I got teary, and yes, you could chalk it up to the luteal phase, and part of me wanted to. But I had this sense that something else was in the room with me.
So I paused the recording, sat down at the end of my bed, and started typing.
What came through was that we’re about to go through something we can’t expect and deeply don’t want to experience — though at some point we’ll collectively agree it was necessary. That it won’t actually be as bad as we think, but it’s going to feel as bad as we think. That there’s nothing to be done but let it unfold. This isn’t a doomsday thing. It’s a specific ending, and it brings on the most beautiful new beginning.
And then the part I keep coming back to: that we can’t let ourselves get lost in the details beyond our control. That we have to stay present for the truth, not the truth as we see it, but the facts as they actually are. That we’ll know it when we see it, because it’ll land in the body like a ton of bricks. And to let that empower us instead of demolishing us.
I’ll be blunt with you: I didn’t love that this came through me.
I don’t do timing. I don’t typically tell people when. So this sat a little close to all the things I don’t do, and I felt some type of way about it in my body. I sat with it for a few days before I said it out loud. Not because it didn’t make sense, but because I didn’t want to hand it to anyone until I had something nourishing to offer alongside it.
I’m sharing it now, and I’m sharing it this way, because I trust you to run it through your own nervous system and your own centers of truth. Keep what works for you and leave what doesn’t.
Here’s the part I keep coming back to.
A while ago, I had a conversation with someone in my family who sees the world very differently from me, politically. I always leave those conversations with a sick, heavy feeling in my body. This time was no different. I sat there listening, and I was horrified by some of what I was hearing, and somewhere in the middle of it, I had this very clear realization:
I am never going to get this person onto my page, and I am never going to land on theirs, because we don’t even agree on what the facts are.
That’s the thing about right now. We are watching the same events and describing two completely different realities. One person sees one thing, and another person sees its opposite. We have video of things happening, and we still can’t agree on what we’re looking at — which, to be fair, makes a strange kind of sense in a world where a video can be conjured out of nothing and look exactly as real as something you filmed on your own phone.
I’m a former journalist. So saying “if those are your facts” out loud genuinely pains me. But here we are.
I left that career, in part, because somewhere along the way, it stopped being about “this is what happened,” and became, “how do we re-architect this story so someone will click it.” That never sat right with me, and I’m not saying this from some conspiracy-minded place — I’m saying it as someone who watched an industry get hollowed out by the internet, ad revenue, and survival instincts in the face of late-stage capitalism.
Survival makes people and institutions do bizarre things.
So in the aforementioned conversation, while my truth was landing in my body like a ton of bricks, I noticed how easy it would have been to ignore it. To let myself be swayed by the sheer force of someone else’s conviction and to talk myself out of what my own body already knew, simply because I can’t fully verify the facts coming at me from the outside.
I didn’t. Because my body told me not to.
And that’s the whole thing, isn’t it?
When you can’t count on the agreed-upon systems and the information is compromised, and the institutions are scrambling, and nobody’s working from the same set of facts, the only place left to move from is yourself. Your own inner authority, with your body as the truth-teller. Not because self-trust is a cute spiritual aspiration, but because it’s becoming the only reliable instrument you’ve got.
But here’s the part nobody tells you, and the part that’s actually my whole work:
You cannot do this until you build a real relationship with fear.
Because so many people mistake fear for a truthful messenger. They feel it, and they obey it. People do genuinely heinous things because they’re afraid. Fear is the driving force underneath most of what’s devastating in the world right now, if you look closely enough.
Fear is never what you move from. Fear is there to tell you there’s something to look at. Something to research. Somewhere to go deeper. When you move from fear, you are not moving from love. You’re not moving from your intuition or your higher self. You’re moving from the thing that’s trying to get you to retreat, and you can feel the difference in your body if you’ve practiced feeling it.
This is the same gap I watch women fall into in much smaller, much more personal moments. You make a decision, the fear shows up, and instead of treating it as the weather that always rolls in when you step toward something you deeply desire, you treat it as a verdict or evidence that you got it wrong. So you abandon yourself, right there in the gap.
The skill is the same whether it’s a national reality you can’t make sense of or a private decision only you can feel: learn to tell the difference between fear talking and truth landing. Trust the one that lands like a ton of bricks or feels undeniably and indescribably accurate in your body. Move from there.
The only thing I actually have control over is myself: how I respond and what I do with what I feel. That’s it. That’s my North Star, and it’s the one I keep coming back to when the bigger picture feels like too much to hold.
So trust that you’ll know it when you feel it.
You will.
Be Your Own Oracle
Clear what isn't yours and hear what is with The Daily Meditation. It guides you through your Human Design energy centers — clearing the absorbed energies, shielding your energy field, and getting you quiet enough to hear what your inner voice has to say.
