Friday, October 30, 2026
It may come as a surprise, but wealth is released. Prosperity is released. Abundance is released.
It’s a feeling of letting it out, letting go, expressing, and not holding back. Withholding is suppression. Anytime there is a difference between the observer and the observed there is a conflict, even if you like it, it suits you, or it “fits,” and you agree.
When the observer is at odds with the observed, pain steepens.
A doer. A writer. A performer. Who are they? When a sublime pianist plays without effort, it’s hard to tell the difference between the music, the person, the instrument, and the hall itself. All are one. It’s all a beautiful seamless happening, drawing you in.
Do you ever let yourself go? It’s wonderful to drop in and “lose yourself.” This has happened to me multiple times while conducting choirs. You’d think the conductor, of all people, shouldn’t “get lost.” Somebody has to lead [the universe].
Not really. The conductor, too, is overcome. In those moments, not even they are leading – they’re playing and responding and emoting, just like the choir or orchestra. It’s magic when the piano plays itself, the choir sings itself, or the words type themselves.
When the observer goes missing, there is no longer a separate entity standing on a platform, looking down at reality or reaching out to “grasp” or “conduct” it. There is only the native substance of the performance itself. The belief that one must step back, evaluate, or give permission to reality is the very mechanism that steepens the perception of distance and pain.
Acutely aware of who’s reading, who’s watching, who’s writing, who’s doing the doing – that’s the limelight people vie for. But if the observer goes awol*, is effortlessly present and allowing, and is fully absorbed, that’s Sublime Light.
You can’t vie for that.
You are that.
*absent without official leave.