When I first heard the phrase spiritual awakening, I’ll be honest. I flinched a little.
Because what if I didn’t feel anything?
What if the clouds never parted, and no one whispered guidance through a beam of light?
I wasn’t sure how I’d know if something had shifted.
But somewhere along the way, maybe more in reflecting for this letter than in living it, I realized:
I was changing.
Just… not in the way I expected.
Maybe you all saw it before I did.
I didn’t wake up enlightened.
I woke up tired. Anxious. Still afraid of myself some days.
But I was showing up.
And weirdly? I was willing to keep trying.
I left the life we had built overseas. Said goodbye to my husband. Left my dog behind.
Then I moved into a van by myself.
And not because I was chasing some aesthetic Pinterest dream.
I did it because I finally wanted to stop disappearing in my own life.
Because u knew this is where I needed to be to continue this.
I wanted to live.
Which, honestly, is huge.
That’s a spiritual shift, even if it’s not particularly glamorous. Even if there’s sand in my bed and condensation on the ceiling.
I used to drink to quiet the noise.
To feel connected, confident, worthy.
I filled my calendar and my cup to avoid being alone.
I used people and alcohol alike to stay the center of something, anything, just to not feel like nothing.
I don’t do that anymore.
Now I write. Essays. Stories. Poetry.
I talk to people. I listen.
I feel things and let them stay a while.
And I don’t want to numb that. I don’t want to miss it. Not even the hard parts.
I’ve started saying yes.
Yes to looking like a fool while line dancing with my friends.
Yes to surfing, even though I mostly just fall and flail and laugh.
Yes to helping strangers. Yes to awkward invitations. Yes to things that still scare me.
And that’s new. That’s not who I was.
I don’t have a lightning-strike transformation story.
What I have is this:
I don’t escape myself anymore.
I try to be honest. I try to help.
And I’m learning to sit with myself, even when I’m sad and messy and nowhere close to knowing what comes next.
Maybe that’s what awakening actually looks like.
Not a single moment, but a series of movements.
A slow, stubborn turning toward life.
Even when it scares the hell out of me.
With love,
Dylan :)