The Black Sheep and the Blind Flock…

There’s a loneliness that comes with waking up.
I don’t mean getting out of bed in the morning, I mean waking up spiritually. Waking up to the fact that this world is more than a paycheck, a title, a new car or what the neighbors think of your lawn. Waking up to the Creator’s energy pulsing through every leaf, every animal, every heartbreak and every blessing.

And the hardest part isn’t the waking, it’s looking around and realizing most of your family never did.

I used to sit at the table with them, listening to conversations about things that don’t matter. Who got what. Who’s better than who. Who’s got more, who deserves less. And not one of them ever stops to look up at the sky, or feel the ground beneath their feet, or ask why am I even here?

They’re disconnected from God or our creator, from nature, from their own spirit. And me, the one who feels too much, loves too deeply and sees too clearly, doesn’t quite belong.

I’ve wrestled with this my whole life.
I tried being small, fitting in, playing the game. But it made me sick. I tried dragging them into my light but they shut their eyes tighter. I tried staying silent but it broke my heart. And so I learned one of the hardest, holiest lessons of my life:

You can love and care for people from a distance.
You can mourn the connections you wish you had with them.
And you can choose to live wide awake anyway.

Because no matter how disconnected your bloodline feels, you have a birthright to the Creator. The trees will speak to you when your family won’t.
The wind will remind you that you’re alive when your people try to silence you.
And the God you carry inside you will never, ever leave.

The truth is, some souls aren’t ready in this lifetime.
Some people will die chasing the things that kill their spirit, never once looking inside. And that’s not our fault. It’s not our job to wake them up.
It’s our job to stay awake ourselves.

To keep our connection to the Source clean and alive.
To find our soul family – those rare, beautiful people who speak your language, even if they’re scattered across the world.
To plant seeds in quiet ways, through kindness, through boundaries, through choosing peace over proving a point.

And to trust that somewhere down the line, in some lifetime, those seeds might bloom.

But for now, if your family’s asleep, let them sleep.
Don’t set yourself on fire trying to light their path.
Stand tall in your own light, connected to God, to nature, to the truth you carry in your bones.

Because one awake heart in a sleeping family still matters.
And you, you matter more than you know.

Lesson of the Day:

Not everyone you love will wake up in this lifetime and that’s okay. Your job isn’t to drag them into the light. Your job is to stay in yours. To keep your connection to the Creator, to walk barefoot on the earth, to speak to the sky, and to be the living proof that love, kindness and truth still exist in this world. Some hearts aren’t ready. But yours is. And that’s enough.