I’ve been hearing this for quite some time now—that humanity is ascending, that we are on the edge of some great awakening. It’s a beautiful thought, isn’t it? And we can choose to live our lives in the hope that it’s true.
But ascension—like global warming—is not a wish or a theory. It’s a natural process. A rhythm. An ebb and flow woven into the fabric of time itself. Ask the dinosaurs. Ask the ancient forests. Ask the civilizations now lost beneath the soil and sea. Change does not ask our permission. It requires us to respond.
With every great shift in history, we’ve seen familiar archetypes emerge: the fearful, the deniers, the blamers. But also, the faithful, the trusting, the hopeful. Those who close their eyes and those who choose to see. And each of us plays one or more of these roles, consciously or unconsciously.
It’s worth asking, in quiet moments: Which one am I right now? What is my contribution?
Some days, it’s hard not to feel overwhelmed by the sheer volume of spin, blame, and denial echoing through our institutions, our communities, even our conversations with those we love. It’s enough to take your breath away. It makes me wonder: Are there more people clinging to fear and projection than those willing to anchor into clarity, presence, and personal responsibility?
If you listen, not just with your ears, but with your heart, you might begin to notice something deeper. Something unsettling. A kind of spiritual vacancy. A disconnection. A flatness behind the eyes of those simply going through the motions. Large swaths of humanity appear, at times, to be operating without soul—surviving, but not fully living.
This isn’t a judgment. It’s a mirror.
We humans have been carrying trauma for generations—centuries, even. Passed down through bloodlines, institutions, wars, religion, silence. And when trauma becomes the norm, it becomes invisible. When pain becomes cultural wallpaper, we stop noticing the patterns. We become numb to mistreatment, both given and received. And worst of all, we lose sight of our own participation in keeping trauma alive as the status quo.
But here we are now. Standing at the threshold of a new era. The world is changing—radically, rapidly. And we are not bystanders. We are part of the machinery. Whether we contribute to harmony or discord, clarity or confusion, fear or faith, it all counts. It all adds up.
So maybe the real question isn’t, “When will humanity ascend?”
Maybe it’s, “What is my contribution to the collective consciousness, right here, right now?”
This is not about perfection or performance. It’s about awareness. It’s about choosing—again and again—to be a conscious thread in the fabric of something bigger than ourselves.
So, I leave you with this reflection:
When the next shift comes—and it always does—what will your presence offer the world?
Will it be fear, denial, and blame?
Or will it be faith, discernment, and a brave, open heart?
I know my choice. It’s the same one I’ve made again and again—rooted in faith, not fear.
Not because I know the outcome, but because I trust the Source.
