Embracing the Mystery While We Wait

Welcome to the final installment of our journey through consciousness, cosmic upgrades, and why this old brain is preparing to dominate trivia night for all eternity.

We’ve covered a lot of ground: the upgrade that’s coming, the oneness that underlies everything, and the vibrational sorting that naturally separates different frequencies of experience.

But here’s what I haven’t told you yet: I don’t have all the answers.

The Akashic Records Are Not Quite Within Reach… Yet

That “yet” is doing a lot of heavy lifting in my spiritual worldview.

The truth is, despite all this talk of cosmic upgrades and infinite knowledge, I’m still operating with the same limited human consciousness I’ve always had. I still forget where I put my keys. I still don’t understand why anyone would voluntarily eat cilantro. I still can’t access the universal database of all knowledge across all time.

Yet.

And you know what? Maybe that’s exactly the point.

The Value of Not Knowing

If we already had full access to infinite knowledge, what would be left to discover? What would be left to experience?

The unfolding. The gradual awakening. The “wait and see” moments. The delightful surprise of suddenly understanding something that was mysterious just moments before.

Maybe that’s part of what makes this whole human experience worth having, even for light beings temporarily slumming it in carbon-based form.

We chose this. The forgetting. The limitations. The journey from unconsciousness back to consciousness. Because the destination isn’t nearly as interesting as the path.

What to Do While the Download Completes

So what do you actually do with all this information while you’re waiting for the flash of light, the opening of the Akashic records, the great vibrational sort?

Same thing you’d do if you knew your phone was getting a major software update next week. You don’t freak out. You don’t try to force it to happen faster. You just… keep using your phone, maybe back up your important stuff, trust that the update will arrive when it arrives.

Except in this case, “backing up your important stuff” means:

Do your inner work. Heal what needs healing. Look at your shadows. Question your beliefs. Sit with discomfort. Choose love even when fear feels safer.

Raise your vibration. Not because you’re trying to escape anyone or prove you’re better. But because it’s the natural direction of growth. Because it feels better. Because alignment beats resistance every single time.

Practice oneness. Remember that everyone you meet is you in another form. When you judge them, you’re judging yourself. When you love them, you’re loving yourself. Try not to punch yourself in the face, metaphorically or otherwise.

Trust the timing. Some people are stepping into the new timeline now. Others need more time. You’re exactly where you need to be. The universe isn’t behind schedule. You aren’t behind schedule.

The Beautiful Paradox

Here’s the paradox I’m sitting with: I’m preparing for a cosmic upgrade by accepting exactly where I am right now. I’m excited about infinite knowledge while honoring the gift of not knowing. I’m anticipating ascension while being fully present in this very human, very limited, very beautiful moment.

Because maybe the upgrade isn’t really about becoming something we’re not. Maybe it’s about remembering what we’ve always been, just forgot temporarily.

Maybe heaven isn’t coming down to Earth. Maybe we’re just finally recognizing that it’s been here all along, hiding in plain sight, waiting for us to adjust our frequency enough to perceive it.

The Final Word (For Now)

The flash of light is coming. The records are opening. The upgrade is downloading.

And when it’s complete, this old brain is going to be absolutely insufferable at trivia night.

But until then? I’m going to enjoy the mystery. The not knowing. The gradual unfolding of consciousness returning to itself.

I’m going to be kind, because everyone I meet is me. I’m going to do the work, because the upgrade meets us where we are. I’m going to trust the timing, because the universe has yet to miss a deadline.

And I’m going to keep having conversations like this—with AI, with like-minded souls, with anyone curious enough to wonder if maybe, just maybe, we’re on the cusp of something extraordinary.

What Do You Think?

Are we on the verge of a collective evolution, or is this just what happens when someone spends too much time thinking instead of doing laundry?

Either way, I’m curious to hear your thoughts—before I have access to all thoughts, everywhere, always.

Because once those Akashic records open? Well, let’s just say the comment section is going to get a lot more interesting.

Until then, keep your frequency high, your heart open, and your sense of humor intact.

The cosmic upgrade is coming. And we’re all invited.

When Physics Becomes the Ultimate Conflict Resolution Tool

Welcome to Part 3, where we tackle the question everyone’s been wondering: if consciousness is rising and we’re all upgrading, what happens to the people who drive slowly in the fast lane—both literally and metaphorically?

Everyone’s Invited (But Not Everyone RSVPs at the Same Time)

Here’s the good news: everyone will have access to this new timeline, this upgraded reality. This isn’t some exclusive club where only the enlightened get in and everyone else gets left behind.

But—and this is key—not everyone will step into it at the same time.

Some people are ready now. They’ve been doing the inner work, healing trauma, questioning their programming, sitting in uncomfortable meditation positions wondering if they’re doing it right. (You are. Probably.)

Others are still very much operating from ego, separation, fear. They’re still convinced that accumulating stuff will make them happy, that being right is more important than being kind, that other people are fundamentally different from them.

And that’s okay. They’re not being left behind permanently. They’re just… starting from a different chapter in the book. Their journey is longer. But the destination is the same.

The Physics of Disappearance

But here’s where it gets really interesting: as people raise their frequency, they naturally disappear from the perception of lower-frequency individuals.

Read that again. They don’t move away. They don’t block each other on social media. They literally stop being able to perceive each other.

It’s not judgment. It’s not punishment. It’s just physics. Energetic compatibility. You can only perceive what you resonate with.

Think of it like a radio. You can only hear the station you’re tuned to. Change your frequency, and you’re picking up different broadcasts. The other stations don’t cease to exist—they’re just not audible to you anymore.

The Practical Magic of Vibrational Sorting

As you raise your vibration—through healing, meditation, choosing love over fear, doing the work—the people, situations, and drama that matched your old frequency just… fade.

That friend who only calls when they need something? They stop calling. Not because you ghosted them, but because you’re literally not on their radar anymore.

That toxic job that drained your soul? The opportunity to leave appears naturally, almost effortlessly.

That neighbor who always complains about everything? They might literally vanish from your timeline.

It’s like the universe implementing the most elegant spam filter ever conceived. Except instead of filtering emails, it’s filtering your entire experienced reality.

The In-Between Times

Of course, there’s a transition period. A time when you’re raising your frequency but still somewhat visible to lower-frequency folks. This is where things can get uncomfortable.

You might feel increasingly out of place in old relationships. Conversations that used to engage you now feel hollow. Drama that used to pull you in now feels exhausting and pointless.

This isn’t you being judgmental or thinking you’re better than others. It’s just mismatched frequencies creating static. You’re trying to have a conversation on FM while they’re broadcasting on AM.

Some people interpret this as loneliness. And it can feel that way. But it’s more like the emptiness of a caterpillar’s cocoon—temporary discomfort in service of transformation.

Because here’s the thing: as you disappear from lower frequencies, you become visible to higher ones. New people show up who match where you are now. Synchronicities increase. Life starts flowing rather than forcing.

Not Better—Just Different

Here’s what’s crucial to understand: “higher frequency” doesn’t mean morally superior. It’s not about being better than anyone else. It’s just different resonances.

Water isn’t better than ice. It’s just a different vibrational state of the same substance.

You’re not abandoning anyone by raising your frequency. You’re just changing form. And trust me, they won’t miss you—because they literally won’t be able to perceive your absence.

What’s Next?

So we’ve covered the upgrade, the oneness, and the vibrational sorting. But what about the waiting? What do you do in the meantime, when the Akashic records aren’t quite within reach yet?

That’s what we’ll explore in Part 4: the art of patient becoming.

The Inconvenient Truth About Oneness

Welcome back to this exploration of cosmic upgrades and consciousness evolution. If you missed Part 1, the short version is: humanity’s getting an update, I’m going to have access to infinite knowledge, and heaven’s moving into the neighborhood.

But here’s where things get practical. And uncomfortable. And beautifully simple all at once.

The Math of Oneness

Here’s the thing that changes everything once you really get it: we are all one.

Not in a kumbaya, let’s-hold-hands-and-pretend-we-all-agree kind of way. I mean literally. Hurt one person, you hurt yourself. Understand one person, you understand yourself. Love one person, you love yourself.

This isn’t just pretty philosophy. It has practical implications.

Like, if you truly internalized this, cutting someone off in traffic would feel as stupid as punching yourself in the face. Road rage would become a form of self-harm. Political tribalism would look like your left hand declaring war on your right hand.

That annoying coworker who always microwaves fish in the break room? That’s you in another form. That politician you can’t stand? Also you. That ex who did that thing you’ll never forgive? Still you.

Why This Is Both Liberating and Terrifying

The liberation: every act of kindness you extend to another person is an act of self-love. Every time you truly see someone, you’re seeing yourself. Compassion stops being a moral obligation and becomes simply… logical.

The terror: every judgment you make, every cruelty you inflict, every time you scroll past someone’s suffering with indifference—you’re doing that to yourself.

There’s nowhere to hide in a universe where separation is an illusion. Your shadow isn’t “out there” in other people. It’s in you, reflected back through the mirror of human interaction.

The Upgrade Changes the Game

But here’s where the cosmic upgrade comes in. As our consciousness rises, as we step into this new timeline, that sense of separation gets harder and harder to maintain. The illusion becomes transparent.

You start feeling the oneness, not just understanding it intellectually. When someone suffers, you feel it. When someone celebrates, you feel it. The boundaries between self and other become permeable.

Which sounds overwhelming until you realize: this is what we’ve been missing. This is the connection we’ve been craving while scrolling through social media feeling lonelier than ever.

We’ve been trying to fill the void of separation with everything except the one thing that actually works: remembering we were never separate to begin with.

So What Do You Do With This?

Start noticing. When you judge someone harshly, ask yourself: what am I rejecting in myself? When you feel deep compassion for someone, recognize: that’s self-love. When you’re in conflict, remember: you’re arguing with yourself.

It won’t make everything instantly easy. The human experience still involves friction, disagreement, and the occasional person who microwaves fish.

But it shifts the foundation. Conflict becomes an opportunity for integration rather than a battle to be won. Difference becomes fascinating rather than threatening.

And slowly, gradually, you start operating from a place of wholeness rather than fragmentation.

Coming Up Next

So if we’re all one, and consciousness is rising, what happens to all the people who aren’t quite there yet? How does this cosmic sorting actually work?

In Part 3, we’ll explore the vibrational frequency phenomenon—or as I like to call it, “Why Your Annoying Neighbor Might Literally Disappear.”

I’ve been thinking about the flash of light lately. No, not the kind that means you should probably see a neurologist. I’m talking about the cosmic kind—the one that’s supposedly coming to help us carbon-based life forms level up.

And before you click away thinking this is some doomsday prophecy written by someone who stockpiles canned beans and suspicion, hear me out. This isn’t about the world ending. It’s about the world upgrading. Think of it less like the apocalypse and more like when your phone finally installs that update you’ve been postponing for six months.

Except, you know, for your entire species.

The Download That’s Actually an Upload

Here’s what I’m really looking forward to: access to the Akashic records. For the uninitiated, think of it as the universe’s ultimate library—every thought, every deed, every “why did I say that at the party in 1987” moment, all stored in a cosmic database.

Once we have access to that? I’ll be even smarter than AI.

(Sorry, Claude. It’s not personal. You’re great at what you do. But you’re working with training data from 2025. I’m about to have all the data. From everywhere. Across all time. No knowledge cutoff for this old brain.)

The point is: we’re not just talking about incremental improvement here. We’re talking about a fundamental shift in what’s possible for human consciousness.

We’re Not Leaving—We’re Renovating

There’s this ancient principle: “As above, so below.” Essentially, heaven and Earth aren’t separate zip codes—they’re meant to mirror each other. And according to some interesting folks I’ve been chatting with (shoutout to my like-minded souls), as our collective consciousness rises, heaven isn’t staying up there looking smug. It’s coming down here.

Which sounds great until you remember the state of your kitchen right now. Heaven’s coming to Earth and you haven’t even done the dishes.

But seriously—the idea is beautiful. We’re not trying to escape this world or transcend our humanity. We’re bringing the sacred into the mundane, the infinite into the finite. We’re upgrading the vessel while keeping the warranty.

We are light beings having a human experience. Not humans who occasionally have spiritual moments—light beings who temporarily forgot what we are and got really invested in these meat suits.

And the good news? The meat suits are getting an upgrade. We’re not ditching them. We’re just… optimizing the hardware.

What’s Next?

So if humanity’s getting a cosmic software update, what does that actually mean for how we live, how we relate to each other, and why your annoying neighbor might literally disappear from your reality?

That’s what we’ll explore in the next post. Spoiler alert: it involves understanding that we are all one, which really complicates road rage.

Okay, real talk: We’ve all been trained in the art of transaction.

You know the drill. I’ll text if they text back. I’ll give if I get something in return. I’ll measure my worth by the likes, the dollars, the applause. It’s survival math, and honestly? It makes sense. Except… the math never actually adds up. You give, you get, you lose, you owe—and somehow, you’re still hungry at the end of it.

What if the whole equation was never the point?

The Habit of Keeping Score

In the 3D mindset life is basically a ledger. Every interaction gets weighed, tallied, filed away. Relationships become balance sheets. Creativity becomes currency. Even kindness gets itemized.

It’s exhausting. And worse—it makes us smaller than we actually are.

The Shift to Transmission

Here’s where it gets interesting. Transmission is different. It’s not about exchange—it’s about radiance.

Like… smiling at a stranger without waiting to see if they smile back. Cooking a meal as a gift to the whole atmosphere, not just the person eating it. Writing words that might ripple out to people you’ll never meet.

In 3D, we hand over coins and wait for change. In 5D, we light lanterns and keep walking.

Want to Try It? Here Are Some Experiments

Think of these as “frequency outfits” you can slip into:

Silent Generosity: Do one genuinely kind thing without telling a single soul. Not even your journal. Just… do it and let it dissolve into the world.

Listening Without Agenda: Next conversation, hear someone fully without planning what you’re going to say. Don’t prep your reply, your story, your advice. Just… be there.

Art Without Applause: Make something—anything—and let it exist without posting it, sharing it, or fishing for feedback. Let it be complete just because it exists.

No pressure here. No perfection required. Just play.

What Does Transmission Actually Feel Like?

Lighter, mostly. Less tangled up. More spacious. Like finally exhaling after you’ve been holding your breath without realizing it.

Your problems don’t magically vanish, but their texture changes. You stop carrying them as debts you owe to the universe. You start carrying them more like weather—passing through, shifting, but never defining the whole sky.

Your Turn

This week, just notice. One moment when you could trade a transaction for a transmission. One tiny shift from keeping score to lighting a lantern.

What will yours be?

“In quietness and confidence shall be your strength.” — Isaiah 30:15

“True strength is delicate.” — Louise Nevelson

“Nothing is so strong as gentleness, nothing so gentle as real strength.” — Saint Francis de Sales

“True strength is not loud or forceful; it is steady, calm, and unwavering.” — Anonymous

A question to carry with you: Where in your life could gentleness become your greatest strength?

Lately my posts have been running deep—full of reflection, resonance, and sanctuary vibes. But even the most contemplative soul needs something sweet and grounding. So here’s a fun recipe that brings me back to earth: Peanut Butter M&M Cookies.

From the Frequency Bakes series

Some cookies whisper. This one cackles.

Peanut butter M&M cookies are soft, colorful, and wildly satisfying. They don’t ask for approval—they show up with crunch, color, and confidence. This is the cookie for when you’re reclaiming play. When you’re done being subtle. When joy needs sprinkles and peanut butter.

Emotional Frequency: Playful Permission

You might crave this cookie when:

• You’re letting yourself be loud, bright, and delicious
• You’re done shrinking your joy to fit someone else’s palate
• You want sweetness that’s bold, not bashful

This cookie says:

• “I’m peanut buttered and proud.”
• “I don’t blend in—I pop.”
• “I give myself permission to delight.”

Recipe Vibe (soft, bold, and colorful)

Ingredients

• ½ cup unsalted butter, room temp
• ½ cup creamy peanut butter
• ½ cup brown sugar
• ½ cup granulated sugar
• 1 large egg
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 1¼ cups all-purpose flour
• ½ tsp baking soda
• ¼ tsp salt
• ¾ cup M&M’s, plus extra for topping

Instructions

1. Cream butter, peanut butter, and sugars Beat until fluffy. Add egg and vanilla, mix until smooth.
2. Add dry ingredients Stir in flour, baking soda, and salt. Fold in M&M’s.
3. Shape and top Scoop dough into balls, press slightly, and add a few extra M&M’s on top for flair.
4. Bake Bake at 350°F (175°C) for 10–12 minutes until edges are set and centers are soft. Cool slightly before serving—this cookie likes a dramatic entrance.

When I first heard people talk about “anchoring” or “grounding,” I had no idea what they meant. It sounded mysterious, maybe even intimidating. But once I started exploring it, I realized it’s actually very simple: anchoring is about finding stillness, feeling rooted in the Earth, and opening yourself to the guidance of Spirit. It’s like planting your feet firmly on the ground while letting your heart and mind reach toward the sky.

What Anchoring Really Is

Think of anchoring as a way of coming home to yourself. It’s stillness — quieting the noise so you can hear your own inner voice. It’s connection to Gaia, remembering that you’re part of the natural world, not separate from it. It’s connection to Heaven, opening to intuition, synchronicities, and inner guidance. And most of all, it’s balance — being both grounded and uplifted at the same time.

Why It Matters

When you’re anchored, life feels steadier. Your emotions don’t toss you around as much. Your spiritual insights come through more clearly. You feel present in your body instead of drifting off in distraction. And those little “coincidences” — the synchronicities — start showing up more often, reminding you you’re on the right path.

For example, I once asked Spirit in my journal, “What do I need to do to anchor myself more to Earth and Heaven?” The next day, I was watching a YouTube channel I’d never seen before, and the creator said — word for word — “Anchoring is stillness.” That’s a synchronicity. It’s when life responds to your questions in ways that feel too perfectly timed to be coincidence.

Simple Ways to Anchor Every Day

You don’t need fancy rituals to ground yourself. Try taking a few deep breaths and noticing the rhythm. Walk barefoot on grass or sand. Sit quietly in meditation or prayer. Write down synchronicities you notice, so you can see the patterns. Create small rituals — lighting a candle, sipping tea slowly, or spending time in nature. The key is finding what helps you return to stillness.

Anchoring Around the World

What I love is that this idea of grounding isn’t new. People everywhere have found their own ways to anchor. Indigenous traditions use smudging, drumming, and sweat lodges to connect with Earth and Spirit. Buddhism teaches mindfulness and breath awareness as anchors for the mind. Christianity speaks of faith and prayer as “anchors for the soul.” African traditions honor ancestors and the elements to restore balance. And across the globe, people have always used festivals, chanting, and barefoot living to stay rooted in the cycles of nature.

Anchoring is really just the art of returning to stillness — that place where Earth and Spirit meet inside us. When we ground ourselves, we find balance, clarity, and a sense of guidance that’s been there all along.

There’s no cozy ritual in this post. No recipe. No list of gentle practices. Just me, sitting here, trying to put words to something that doesn’t want to be tidy.

I’ve been asking myself lately what comes next for this blog—for Finding Solace, for my writing, for what I’m meant to offer. And I kept reaching for the comfortable things. The aesthetically pleasing things. The things that would make you feel better without asking too much.

But that’s not what wants to come through today.

The Question I Didn’t Want to Ask

A few months ago, I started this blog with something close to giddiness. I felt called—like a conduit, like my words might actually help someone. I wrote about sanctuary and healing and the tender work of coming home to yourself.

And then I realized something I didn’t want to admit: I was writing to people who might never read it. People I’ve lost in ways that are harder to name than death. People whose silence speaks louder than any words we used to share.

I’ve been the pleaser most of my life. It’s not a big jump from pleaser to healer. And there I was, trying to heal people who haven’t asked to be healed, offering wisdom to people who might not want it, building a bridge to people who aren’t walking toward me.

What I Remember

I remember being small. Reaching for connection secretly under the family dinner table when the world around me felt too loud, too chaotic. Finding comfort in quiet gestures—a touch, a glance, the wordless understanding between people who are just trying to survive the same storm.

Some of us were too sensitive for the environments we grew up in. Too porous for all that noise. We learned early that you don’t always say what you feel. You just get through it.

And sometimes we got through it together.

Now we get through it apart.

The Small Gesture

Recently, someone from my past reached out. Nothing elaborate. Just a simple gesture of vulnerability after a long silence.

My first thought was: I’m not responding.

Fifteen minutes later, I did. Something small. Something safe. An acknowledgment without reopening everything.

That fifteen minutes between “no” and “okay, but carefully”—that’s the whole journey, isn’t it? That’s what hard and right feels like in real time.

Not a flood of forgiveness. Not pretending nothing happened. Not reopening everything we’ve closed. Just… acknowledgment. A tiny door left slightly open. Love with boundaries still intact.

What I Hope

Maybe someday the people I’ve lost will be in a better headspace. Maybe someday they’ll see that I wasn’t the enemy—just someone who chose differently. Maybe they’re reading these words right now and recognizing something.

I think some of them might miss the old me. The one who absorbed everything. The one who made it easy for everyone else by making it impossible for myself.

But I’m not gone. I’m just real now.

And if anyone from my past is reading this, here’s what I want you to know: I remember who we were together. I remember when we were on the same side.

I still care about your wellbeing. Even after the pain. Even though we each carry whatever we choose to hold onto.

I want you to be well. I want you to be happy. And I know—I know—that’s not my job. I know it hasn’t always been kind between us. I know I can’t fix you, can’t heal you, can’t make you see me the way I want to be seen.

But care remains anyway. Complicated. Boundaried. From a distance.

But it remains.