All That Is: Returning to the Self

This text was born in that space where consciousness recognizes itself, even after being pulled into the finite, answerless mind. It is the memory of a constant return to the Self — ever more expansive, more stable, yet still malleable.

Spiritual Awakening, Consciousness, and the Art of Returning to Being.

I still remember.

I remember the day when the oppressive, anxious veil abandoned my system. I felt I was breathing for the first time, even though I had spent an entire lifetime breathing... or believing I did. I saw life with new eyes: both clear and ethereal at once. Suddenly, I felt the morning dew as a miracle. It never became less than that again.

Everything was tinged with an invisible simplicity. The tension loosened, not only in my shoulders, but in my memories, in my perception, in every corner of me.

I remember the emergence of lightness, the birth of an indisputable, inviolable fluidity. As if the air and I were made of the same thing. That’s what returning to the Self feels like.

My daughter's little voice became music. A melody that had been playing in the background forever, but that I could finally hear clearly and enjoy. Its vibration came to the forefront, and her identity blurred. Sweetness burst forth without restraint. Faith, rhythmic and wild, settled in my chest.

Freshness and warmth were no longer opposites: they were one thing, inside me.

I felt elevated above everything. Resting in the goodness of all. And I knew there was nothing more to do than to be happy, laugh, live in peace and allow.

My body blossomed: it was pure light. My hands, soft, without sorrow or glory, were hands of love, of forgiveness, of adoration. I remember myself invincible. Free from struggle. Free from grief and pain. Because that's what we are. That's what I am: unconditional freedom.

Intention abandoned me. It became a song. It invaded everything effortlessly, without urgency. I danced with the clouds. I was one with them. With the sun.

I saw empires being born before me. Glorious, without pressure. Made of nothingness itself, with walls of divine emptiness and without a single line of separation.

I remember the clarity. Being the center of the universe as the only option. Time and space dissolved. There was no here or there. There was no loneliness. Only eternity.

I could see again. But not just with my eyes. Also with my heart, with my skin, with my entire being. Everything was magical. And although it seemed impossible, of course I believed it.

But what I remember most is the moment just before liberation. Lying on the lounge chair on the balcony, the breeze softening my skin. My prayer was simple, firm, inevitable:

"Now I am ready. Take away everything that I am not."

I closed my eyes. I relaxed. And surrender happened.

When I opened them again, neutrality took hold of my heart. And I understood that from there one can choose: how to think, how to feel, how to act. Create.

And then I knew — fully —that I am, and have always been, everything that is.

Peace and ease,

Lu