Hey đź‘‹
There’s this scene from White Lotus I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.
A character nearly dies (no spoilers!)—then opens his eyes and says:
“I think I just saw God.”
That line hit me.
Not because it’s dramatic. But because it feels true for so many of us.
We wait.
We wait for the diagnosis. We wait for the breakup.
We wait for something to shake us so deeply… we finally start questioning everything.
Our path. Our priorities. Our beliefs. Our sense of control.
That’s when people start to believe.
That’s when they start praying. Meditating. Changing.
Because sometimes pain is the thing that cracks us open.
It forces us to listen. To slow down. To let go.
But lately, I’ve been wondering…
Why do we wait for that moment?
Why do we need to be on our knees before we’re willing to ask for more?
To believe in something bigger than ourselves?
To want to feel connected again?
I’ve been thinking about this more as I prepare for a Joe Dispenza retreat.
He talks a lot about how most of us are living on autopilot.
We wake up and press play on the same script.
Same thoughts. Same emotions. Same reactions.
And then we wonder why our future looks exactly like our past.
And maybe that’s why hitting rock bottom can be the biggest gift.
Because sometimes, it’s the only thing strong enough to snap us out of the loop.
To wake us up from the sleepwalking version of our life.
To finally ask: “Is this really how I want to keep living?”
But what if we didn’t wait until we crashed to ask that question?
What if the real work is simply becoming aware?
Aware of the loops. Aware of the stories we keep telling.
Aware of how much time we spend thinking about what’s wrong, what’s missing, what might go wrong next.
Because the moment you see it, you can interrupt it.
And once you do… you get to decide what to replace it with.
That’s where intention comes in.
When people get sick, their intention becomes crystal clear: get well.
Suddenly, everything they do points toward that goal.
They visualize it. They feel it. They live like healing is already on the way.
And often—it is.
But why wait for a crisis to live like that? You can choose a clear intention now.
And let it guide how you show up in life.
That’s what meditation has been helping me with lately.
Not to escape—but to return. To this moment. To my body.
And here’s the practice:
Every time I catch myself drifting—thinking about coffee, breakfast, or what I need to do next—I gently return.
Back to my breath. Back to now.
Not trying to force anything. Just choosing presence over autopilot.
And while I’m there, I practice something else too:
Setting an intention.
Not just thinking it, but feeling it in my body, as if it’s already real.
That’s what Joe Dispenza teaches.
That your body doesn’t know the difference between something real and something vividly imagined.
So why not train it to feel the life you actually want?
The longer I stay, the more my mind settles. The more my heart aligns.
And even if nothing dramatic happens… I leave differently.
And more than anything—I trust that the universe will meet me there.
That it will give me everything I’ve asked for…
Because I’m doing the work. Because I’ve made space.
Because I’ve shown I’m ready to receive it.
And if we’re being honest…
We walk around like we understand the universe.
Like we’ve got it all figured out. Like logic is the only thing that matters.
But just look around. There’s so much we still can’t explain.
So much beauty. So much chaos. So much mystery.
Call it God. Source. Higher consciousness. The quantum field.
Whatever it is… what if you trusted it?
Not because you’re desperate. But because you’re ready.
Ask—and allow yourself to receive.
All it takes is to believe that it’s possible.