The Awakening That Didn’t Announce Itself - A Reflector’s quiet journey through body, breath, and becoming

 ✨ A Reflector Moment — one breath, one truth at a time. 

🕊️The Miracles 

The things I never told anyone, because they might not believe them, but I felt them. 

They didn’t arrive with trumpets. No fireworks. No flashes. But the miracles showed up anyway. In quiet, precise ways, just enough to make me pause and wonder: “Did that just happen?” Like when I spoke out loud to my stones and the energy in the room shifted immediately, as if they had heard me. Or when a candle flickered, not from wind but from a presence I couldn’t name. A reminder I wasn’t alone. There were mornings where the sunlight came through the curtain in such a specific way that it felt like a soul-message made just for me. And there were nights where a word, a scent, or a sound touched something deeper than memory. I never shared most of these moments with anyone. Not because I didn’t want to but because I didn’t know how. What do you say when your soul shows you something that no one else can see? So I wrote. Or I sat in silence. Or I laughed at the timing like the day I saw a video pop up saying exactly what I had just written in my notes minutes before. I no longer question whether these were coincidences. They were not. They were reminders. Reminders that I am connected, even when I feel far away. 

🌑 The Descent

 After the softness came the weight. 

Like fog rolling in after sunlight. I thought I had done something wrong. But really, my system was just clearing space. I became tired in ways I couldn’t explain. No amount of rest restored me. My muscles began aching not from movement, but from something deeper. Almost like energy stuck in the body, shifting from one place to another without warning. I started snoring, something new for me and it often woke me up at night, leaving me more exhausted in the day. The pain didn’t stay in one place. It wandered. As if different parts of me were trying to say: “Please don’t ignore us anymore.” It felt like I was carrying things that weren’t even mine. And maybe I was. I live in an apartment building, surrounded by lives, thoughts, habits. And as open as I am, sometimes it’s hard to know where “they” end and “I” begin. Even my sacred space, the bedroom filled with stones and meaning began to feel overstimulating at times. Not because it wasn’t good for me… but because I hadn’t told it what I needed. I forgot to say: “I’m off duty now. I need rest.” 

💧 The Healing 

Healing didn’t come in one magical moment. 

It came in layers. Tiny, quiet decisions. Moments of saying “no” without guilt, and “yes” without fear. It came through stillness. Through long pauses on the edge of sleep, where I didn’t do anything, I just was. My body guided the process. Not through exercise, but through rest. The kind of rest that felt like rebellion. There were days where all I could do was breathe. And even that felt like enough. Because behind the surface, my system was recalibrating. I didn’t heal through methods. I healed through honoring what I knew deep down: That I don’t need to be fixed. I need to be met. So I began meeting myself. Softly. Patiently. Without explanations. I stopped asking my energy to perform. I started letting it just exist. And slowly… I felt something returning. Not joy. Not energy. Just a spark. Enough to begin again. 

🌕 The New Way 

My spiritual awakening didn’t arrive in one wave. 

It came in cycles. Long, disorienting spirals that made me feel like I was walking in circles or like a headless chicken, as I often joked. In the beginning, I didn’t understand any of it. People looked at me strangely. Some spoke to me as if I didn’t know what I was talking about. And honestly… at the time, I didn’t. But looking back now from this space of self-recognition and soft clarity I see what was happening: I wasn’t just awakening. I was sampling everyone else’s energy, living through their patterns, their emotions, their noise so I could understand the full picture before I transformed it into something of my own. That was my gift. And also my burden. But I no longer reject it. Because now, I create from it. I no longer try to be understood. I no longer try to match others. I walk differently. I share differently. Not because I want to be unique — but because I’ve finally remembered who I am. And now, I don’t need others to approve. I just need to keep showing up, breathing, and creating from that sacred place of knowing. Not for fame. Not for followers. But for resonance. 

🌸 Closing Reflection 

If you’re still in the fog, still in the ache, still wondering if what you're feeling even makes sense you’re not lost. You’re not late. You’re not broken. You’re just deep in the remembering. And no one can rush that. Some awakenings come like thunder. Others arrive like mist, moving slowly across years and lifetimes. Mine came in cycles. Yours might too. Trust the way your soul is choosing to return to you. Because even if it doesn’t make sense right now someday you’ll look back and realize you were never falling apart. You were being rearranged. 

✨ If you’d like to glimpse the space that quietly held this awakening,
I’ll share a visual reflection in a few days:

A Reflector’s Room: Sacred Clutter, Quiet Light

🌸 Explore more reflections and soulful offerings: https://www.amazon.com/s?k=Philomena+Petersen&tag=hingslotusref-20

Until next time, sending love and peace, 

🕯️ With gentleness,

 HingsLotus