Between Worlds: The Sacred Space of Becoming

There comes a moment in every soul’s journey when the ground begins to shift —
when one foot still rests in the old, familiar world,
and the other hovers in the threshold of the new.

You can feel the portal closing behind you, even as the one before you begins to open.
And in that in-between — that luminous corridor of transition — everything feels both unbearable and holy.

The Tension of Two Worlds

Many of you are here now.
You feel a deep, almost visceral dissatisfaction with what once was.
What used to sustain you no longer nourishes. The jobs, relationships, routines, even dreams that once felt aligned now feel dense, constricting, small.

It is not that you are lost — it is that your soul has outgrown its old container.
The frequency you now long for — the higher vibration that calls to you — creates a greater contrast with where you have been.
You can feel it, can’t you? The siren song of your next becoming.

Only a year ago, perhaps, you were still able to bear the old. You lived as you always had, unaware of how much more awaited you. But awakening shifts the light — and once seen, it cannot be unseen.

The Sacred Pause

The energy of transition is swift now. You may feel it rushing, urgent, as though the next doorway can’t open fast enough.
Yet, beloved, there is power in the pause.
The space between what is ending and what is emerging is not a void — it is fertile ground.

This “pregnant pause” in your becoming is where miracles germinate.
It allows synchronicities to unfold before you, like cosmic breadcrumbs guiding your way.
If you rush through, you miss the very magic meant to sustain you.

So breathe.
Savor this sacred discomfort.
Bless the liminal space.

Breathe love into the moments that ache.
Whisper to your weary self as you would to a child:
It’s going to be okay. This is temporary. You will rise again.

The Practice of Blessing

Bless the life you are in, even as you dream the life you are becoming.
Lift yourself gently from the floor when life brings you to your knees.
Then rise, look up, and notice the miracles still here —
the sunlight streaming through your window,
the rain that cleanses the earth,
the body that carries you,
the breath that sustains your being,
the love that surrounds you in ways seen and unseen.

Gratitude grounds your light in the now, even as your soul reaches toward the new.

You are becoming something luminous, and the universe is holding its breath in awe.

Reflection Prompt

Where in your life are you being called to bless what is ending — and trust what is beginning?