––– WORK, GATEKEEPING & THE BOOK –––
This morning I got back into it — learning more about WordPress, how to make headings work, and refining a bit more SEO to bring The New Earth higher on the google pages. Then I moved into book work: reading, editing, feeling into how to shape it.
We’ve got to keep the gate.
Keep the boundaries clear — to protect the divine.
That means being mindful of who’s referenced, and making adjustments so the story serves without exposing anyone unnecessarily.
I was working non-stop again. But when I stop — even for a moment — my back flares up again. It’s like momentum drops, and with it comes this weird, unsettled feeling. A moment of being lost. But I know it’s not real.
It’s just rest.
A moment to breathe.
To land.
And the SHILT isn’t in the rest.
The shilt is in believing you can’t rest.
––– THE CHAIR AND THE TEMPLE –––
I walked over to a temple nearby — one someone had suggested.
When I entered, it was this large open hall with a golden Buddha at the far end.
Next to it, a beautiful Japanese-style chair.
And something in me said, “Sit.”
So I did.
And I heard it, gently, clearly:
“Welcome home.”
––– PARASITES MOVE WHEN YOU CHOOSE –––
On my way out, I got a message from someone in the team.
Since deciding to do the parasite cleanse, something had shifted in her body. She wanted to check in. I felt into it — and it was energetic, deeply symbolic. It felt like there was already movement, as if the parasites had been stirred just by the choice.
We talked about it.
She’s beginning a pre-pre-cleanse while continuing the pre-cleanse.
To be sure, I reached out to the medicine women here in Sri Lanka.
We’re getting her to fill in an intake form and she’ll see a doctor tomorrow.
But the sense I got was clear:
When you choose truth, your body knows.
When you say yes, the illusion starts to crack.
The shift begins before the first drop of tincture.
––– HERBS, BANDAGES & THE BLOCK –––
Later I saw an Ayurvedic doctor in town — someone my landlord recommended.
He wrapped my back in a bandage soaked in herbal medicine, and said to leave it on until Tuesday. So I’m wrapped now. Grounded. Healing.
I stayed home.
Took it slow.
Watched a bit of a program, went back over the book with Pen (P-E-N).
We talked about how to handle the more complex parts. She shared her story around The Prophet — and reminded me:
Don’t try too hard. Don’t cling to the journal parts. Let the divine move through the gaps.
There are guardrails for a reason.
But the path still flows between them.
––– STILLNESS, BLOCK, REMINDER –––
I don’t know how I feel, exactly.
Like I’m waiting.
Like I should be doing something, but there’s a block.
It reminds me of when I first landed in South Africa —
That moment of stillness, where you know you’ve arrived, but you haven’t yet been told what to do.
So I’m here.
Being.
Wrapped.
Listening.
Reflection
What do I choose to honour?
The stillness. The messages in rest. The gate that protects the light.
What do I choose to let go of?
The idea that I always need to push. The fear that stopping is failure.
The illusion that the divine only moves when I do.
