I was halfway through my eggs when I said it.

Dark yolks. Chicken sausage. Sourdough with butter and preserves. Cassandra across from me with her eggs, kale and fried potatoes. Chance in the screened porch meowing at the squirrels like they owed him money.

Just another Tuesday morning.

I put my fork down and said I don't think we will need healing centers much longer.

Cassandra's head tilted sideways.

That tilt. I know that tilt.

It means, I'm not sure I see that yet but go on.

So I did.

I said what if spirituality stops being somewhere you go and becomes something you just live? What if we stop needing someone to heal us because we've learned to alchemize the new frequencies ourselves? What if the psychic, the healer, the reading, what if all of that evolves into something more collaborative? Less hierarchy. More communion.

What if one day someone books a session not to find out if their ex is coming back but to learn how to communicate with a plant?

Cassandra's fork stopped mid air.

That's how I know I'm onto something.

A few days later during a channeling session my guides said almost word for word what I had said over breakfast.

I've learned to trust that.

Not because I'm trying to be a rebel.

I just notice things.

And I've learned to say them out loud before the eggs get cold.

𓂀Being IS the MAGIC –Wandering Waykeeper – Beckett

If something in this stayed with you, you're welcome to leave it here.