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The buildup—life becomes unbearable in some way. You feel stuck, stagnant. Like you've hit a wall and can’t go any further from where you are.
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The life-altering moment—this could be an illness, a deep meditation, a near-death experience, teacher plants, a dream, or some unexpected crack in reality that shows you the other side.
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The integration—how you make sense of what you’ve seen and begin embodying it in this physical world.
I can absolutely relate to this. But it’s a long-ass process. Sometimes it feels too long. Weeks pass like days. Months disappear before I even notice. And suddenly, we’re halfway through the year, and I’m asking myself: Where did the time go?
Still, when I zoom out, I can see how much has changed—especially over the last nine years. This awakening, this internal revolution I’ve gone through... it's been massive. But translating all of it into words? Into something others can feel and understand? That part has felt almost impossible.
I’ve done my best. I’ve built a personal philosophy. A way of seeing this world that makes sense to me. Whether I’m right or wrong, I don't know. Sometimes I look at how others are living—how free and abundant and joyful they seem—and I wonder: Did they choose these lives before birth? Were they born into ease and beauty? Did they earn it? Did they get lucky?
And then I think about all the people born into abuse, poverty, war... the ones whose lives are a constant state of survival. What about them? What about their souls?
I’ve come to believe that to live a life of freedom and soul-aligned expression, you need a certain kind of relationship with money, with the system, with this matrix. You need access. And access is not evenly distributed.
If you asked me what my ultimate life would look like, it’s this: I want to make a positive contribution to people's lives. I want to help them come home to themselves, to their sovereignty. To take responsibility, to heal their painbodies, to transcend the implanted ego, and to make conscious choices about what happens after this life—so they don’t just blindly recycle into the next one.
That’s what “soul freedom” means to me. Ending the cycles of suffering. Not just for ourselves, but for the collective.
Because let’s be honest: this planet is not set up for our liberation. It's built to keep us looping. Caught up in survival, fear, distraction, illusion. It’s a system that thrives on keeping people too tired, too afraid, too numb to remember who they really are.
And yet—there’s a flip side. There are people living out their dreams. Travelling, creating, laughing, thriving. Sometimes I wonder if I even have the energy to figure that out anymore. Part of me wants to surrender. Just accept that maybe that’s not my reality in this lifetime. Maybe I’m here for something else.
But then I catch myself: Am I surrendering to truth or just to a distorted belief? Have I been sold a vision of the “good life” through media and society that’s just another version of captivity—one that keeps me feeling not-enough in the life I do have?
The truth is: my life is good. Really good, in many ways. I’ve got a safe home, a kind landlord, and four incredible children who are healthy and thriving. I’m rich in ways that matter.
But I still struggle. I struggle with how aware I am of the suffering on this planet. It feels like I can’t look away. I carry the pain of others like it’s my own. And maybe, on some soul level, it is. If one person suffers, I feel like we all do.
And yes, I live with this duality every day: wanting to be a light in the darkness… while knowing the darkness is vast. Knowing the systems are still poisoning us. That forests are still being destroyed. That food and medicine and education are all deeply corrupted. None of it makes sense, and yet this is the world we’re in.
So here I am, sitting with healing tumours in my breast, doing everything I can to get better. Racing against time. Wondering: What if I don’t get to do all the things I came here to do? What if I don’t get to have those beautiful experiences I long for?
But more importantly: Do I even want them for the right reasons? Or have I just been conditioned to want them?
I don’t want to sell my peace, my joy, my soul just to have what looks good on the outside. I want to live the most authentic version of myself. I want that for everyone. A world where nobody has to worry about survival. Where homes, food, care—basic dignity—are just givens.
But we’re not there yet. And sometimes that truth just exhausts me.
Other times… I see it. A space for me. A role I was born to play. A knowing that I am helping, even when I’m doubting. Even when I can’t see the bigger picture.
And even when I feel like there’s no place for me at all.
With Love,
Rose - The Sovereign Soul
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