Contemplating the Nature of Things

A Personal Journey into Awakening

I’ve been reading so many books lately. This morning, it struck me that this could be the influence of Jupiter in Gemini. The genre has been entirely spiritual, as though my brain is parched for long-dormant knowledge. Interestingly, the last time Jupiter transited Gemini, I experienced a similar craving for information, though it leaned toward classic literature and history.

I’ve always been a reader, but some periods have felt much more voracious than others—such is the natural ebb and flow of life. Right now, I’m toggling between Wayne Dyer, Penney Peirce’s book on personal frequency, and a guide to green witchcraft. Today, I ordered a book about the energy of money and have been diving into another on near-death experiences (NDEs). My fascination revolves around the nature of existence: what does it mean to be alive in this vast world, and where do I fit in?

It feels a bit like being back in grad school—reading for answers, perpetually absorbing data. But now, my inquiry is more introspective. I’m keenly interested in becoming my highest-quality self. It’s an internal job, one that feels like uncovering a truth that’s always been within me. For the past year, I’ve held this belief that if I could land on *the* perfect book, I’d unlock my mind, see through the veil, and ascend into a kind of heaven on earth.

I’ve come close to that feeling. It usually happens after a smoothie, a run, and some good music. In those moments, I float in a state of bliss, thinking about everything I’m grateful for—the people who’ve shaped me, the sheer pleasure of existing, of consuming and creating art.

Life in a Hedonistic Swirl

These days, my life is a delightful blend of running, writing, reading, gardening, music, and yoga. Though it’s January and winter lingers, I feel a joy usually reserved for spring. I’m recognizing how limited my thoughts used to be, how easily I would get offended. Yes, there are things in this world that seem outrageous—war, politics, greed, injustice. My heart aches for humanity.

But I’ve realized that outrage isn’t mine to carry. Becoming easily offended or angry only lowers my personal frequency. There’s likely a scientific explanation behind this—something about atoms and vibrations. For now, I don’t need to understand the exact *why*. I know that choosing love and detachment improves my life materially: my relationships, my home, my finances.

So, I’m stepping back from the noise—news, complaints, and online comments. Instead, I’m putting myself on a mental diet of positivity. Hopefully, this practice will help me float higher, blissed out on happy hormones and free of unnecessary suffering. After all, suffering is a choice if you can learn to detach from it.

The Climb and the Truth

It feels like I’m at the base of a mountain, looking up at stacks of books, miles of journal prompts, and hours of guided meditations ahead. Yet, there’s momentum as the principles of life begin to stick.

When Mick Jagger asked for *Sympathy for the Devil*, I think he was reflecting on the duality of light and dark, the interconnected fabric of being. This holographic universe, with its endless beauty, offers what we choose to see. Paint your mind in beauty, and that’s what reflects back to you. It’s simple, but also profound: mindset is the key to transforming outward life.

Be kind. Choose love. Everyone and everything around you is simply another form of yourself. I believe that when we die, our souls meet in another dimension. We learn the reasons for our experiences and see that each was a lesson designed to advance our consciousness.

I like to picture life as a video game, where my soul dreams this reality. Every joy, every skill, every friend or foe was preordained. These elements shape us into who we are—divine entities in the likeness of God. We are born blind to this truth but can awaken through resources like the Bible, which teaches that God, the Holy Spirit, and Jesus reside within us. The spirit, the creator, the flesh—it’s all part of the same intangible dream.

Awakening and Compassion

More and more, I see people around me waking up. Class consciousness is rising; the structures of capitalism and central banking are being questioned. But even as these shadows are exposed, I remind myself to have sympathy for the “devil.”

Why? Because it’s all part of the same divine game—the yin and yang of existence. We need the darkness to appreciate the light. Without night, the stars wouldn’t shine. This perspective—choosing love, stepping back from outrage, and embracing gratitude—grounds me as I move forward. Every step is part of the climb, and I’m learning to savor the journey.