Here I AM
Waking Up From The External World
There are moments in my day when I feel myself slip out of my own life.
It happens quietly.
My hand reaches for my phone before I even realize I’m moving.
Or I find myself standing in front of the fridge, not hungry, not intentional, just… there.
Scrolling. Snacking. Wandering.
Auto-pilot.
It’s not about the phone or the food.
It’s not even about the distraction.
It’s the absence of Self energy.
It’s the moments when I’ve drifted so far from my own consciousness that conditioning takes the wheel.
Old experiences, old emotions, old overwhelm, moments I never fully let myself feel, rise and start driving the ship.
And I move through life like a zombie.
Restless.
Bored.
Disassociated.
Disconnected from breath, from presence, from myself.
This is what addiction to the external world looks like.
Not craving the world…
but craving anything that keeps me from meeting what’s inside me.
Because when I’m checked out, I don’t have to feel the NRG I’ve been storing for years, the emotions and memories I never processed, the NRG that didn’t get to move through me.
But every time I abandon myself like this, I can feel it:
I’m gone.
The Moment I Wake Up
And then… something shifts.
It can be subtle, a flicker of awareness, a tiny spark.
Suddenly, I notice what’s happening.
I catch myself in the reaching, in the scrolling, in the wandering.
There’s this inner voice, quiet but unmistakable:
“You left.”
And in that moment, something miraculous opens.
I return first to my breath.
Always the breath.
As soon as I land in it, I feel a buzzing of NRG moving through my body — the same NRG I was trying to escape moments earlier.
It rises.
It swells.
It feels uncomfortable.
But if I stay with it, really stay, something softens.
The NRG begins to move.
The Self begins to emerge through it all.
This is the turning point.
This is where my consciousness starts reclaiming the driver’s seat.
Dropping Into Witness Mode
When I step back from the body-mind, it’s like I retake my rightful place.
I sit back into witness consciousness.
I become aware of what’s happening rather than being consumed by it.
And through that awareness, I feel a presence rise within me.
A presence that is not frantic, not scarcity-driven, not reactive.
It’s steady.
It’s spacious.
It’s loving.
Then something inside me says, clear and strong:
Here I am.
Not as a thought.
Not as an affirmation.
As a frequency.
As the return of my Self.
Everything Falls Away
When “here I am” lands in my body, everything else falls away.
The tension.
The compulsive urges.
The storyline.
The critic.
A different voice emerges, one that feels like Love itself.
It sounds like Ho’oponopono whispering through me:
I’m sorry.
Please forgive me.
Thank you.
I love you.
This voice doesn’t shame me for drifting.
It welcomes me back.
It holds me with tenderness.
It reminds me that coming home is always possible.
In this presence, life begins to unfold seamlessly.
Not because everything is perfect,
but because everything is exactly as it’s meant to be, even when it doesn’t match my expectations.
I can feel the guidance of my higher Self.
It’s not the voice in my head. This is subtle, gentle, steady, carrying me along a path of ease and flow.
I reconnect with abundance.
I reconnect with choice.
I reconnect with my highest timeline.
This is what it feels like to live awake.
The Practice of Returning
I’m learning that the goal isn’t to never leave myself.
It’s noticing when I’ve left…
and choose to return.
To feel the uncomfortable NRG rather than avoid it.
To breathe instead of tightening.
To witness instead of react.
To remember: I am not the body. I am not the mind. I am the one who sees.
And every time I come back, even after drifting for minutes or days or years, there’s that same soft truth:
Here I am.
This is the real addiction we break, the addiction to abandoning ourselves.
This is absolute freedom, the moment we remember who we truly are.
And we return again, and again, and again, for as long as it takes.
I love you, thank you for being here, & reading these words.