The Bridge Back to Yourself: Awakening in a Human World
A Note Before You Begin
Dear soul,
This isn’t just a blog.
It’s a reflection of a moment where I touched something vast and chose to stay human.
It’s the ache of remembering who I am in spirit, and learning how to hold that in my hands while loving this world, my children, and all of you.
What you’re about to read isn’t a teaching.
It’s a sitting-with.
A standing-in.
A walking-alongside.
I didn’t write this to show you the way.
I wrote this to show you mine
and to invite you into your own.
If you’re someone who has felt the tug to transcend,
but also the longing to belong,
this is for you.
May it meet you where you are.
And may it remind you that your light was never meant to float above the world.
It was meant to live here.
In you.
Fully awake.
Fully human.
Fully home.
With love,
Danielle
There was a time I believed awakening meant rising above it all.
I looked up to spiritual teachers; those who had touched the infinite and returned with poetic riddles about the formless, the illusion of the world, the death of the self. Their words stirred something ancient in me. I clung to them, hoping they’d unlock the mystery of enlightenment.
But instead of clarity, I was left with more questions.
More distance.
More longing.
Their wisdom was real. And yet… something inside me whispered:
This isn’t the whole truth.
Or at least, it isn’t mine.
Spiritual Awakening Isn’t an Escape
Eventually, I touched what they spoke of. I slipped into the vastness, the still awareness where I was no one and everyone.
It was bliss.
It was peace.
It was everything.
Until the beauty turned into distance. Not pain, exactly. But a silent ache for the intimacy of being human.
In that space, I could see my children, but I could not feel them. I was aware of them, but I was not with them.
There was a pull.
A quiet ache to escape into the stillness and stay there.
To live in the nothingness where nothing could touch me.
But I couldn’t leave my children behind.
Even in the silence, they called to me.
Not with words. Just presence. Just love.
And now I know, it’s not just them.
I feel this way about everyone.
There’s something in me that doesn’t want to awaken alone.
Not because I need to lead anyone.
Because love walks with, not ahead.
Because connection matters.
I am not here to transcend while others remain in suffering.
And I am not here to pull anyone out of it either.
I am here to illuminate myself.
To walk my truth with such presence,
that others remember how to find their own.
Not to carry them to the light,
but to remind them they’ve had the fire all along.
And So I Returned…
Not to where I began, but to where I belong.
Living a Spiritual Life in the Real World.
A week ago, something shifted.
In a moment of doubt, I found myself watching a video by ZDoggMD on YouTube. Not a spiritual teacher. A doctor. Speaking honestly from the valley.
No robes. No riddles. Just real.
And his rawness cracked something open in me.
He wasn’t preaching from the mountaintop. He was naming the mess while still pointing to meaning.
And in that moment, I felt it.
Permission.
To stop performing awakening.
To speak plainly.
To lay down the mystic mask and meet myself in the mud.
Because pretending I was above it all never brought me peace, only distance from the love I craved.
We Don’t Need More Gurus in the Sky
We need guides who walk beside us.
Who remind us we are light, especially when we forget.
Who sit with us in the dark, not to fix us, but to be with us.
Because this, too, is mindfulness.
This is the sacred work.
If They Could Speak to Me…
Jon Kabat-Zinn might say:
“This is mindfulness. Not escaping the moment, but entering it fully.”
Deepak Chopra could remind:
“You are not in the world. The world is in you. But your light must be lived to be real.”
Socrates might ask:
“What illusions veil your truth? What if your suffering has been the doorway all along?”
Jesus might whisper:
“I came not for the perfect, but for the weary. Your wounds are not separate from your light. They are how it shines.”
Pema Chödrön might encourage:
“Stay. Even here. Let the discomfort soften you.”
Amoda Maa might say:
“The path is not away from the human. It is deeper into it.”
The Buddha might offer:
“There is a middle way between the sky and the soil. Walk it with compassion.”
Mother Teresa might remind:
“Do small things with great love. That is the bridge.”
Lao Tzu would smile and say:
“Stop striving. The Tao is not something to reach. It is something to remember.”
Adyashanti might add:
“The direct path is radical honesty. Not spiritual performance, but unguarded truth.”
Returning to the Heart of Mindful Living
And now I know:
I am not here to lead anyone out of the dark.
I am here to sit with them in it.
To be a mother presence. Soft, warm, steady.
To remind them they carry the light within.
And when they forget, I will help them build a bridge back across.
Because we are not here to transcend the illusion.
We are here to alchemize it.
To root our awareness in this body, this breath, this moment.
To live awake.
To love fully.
To walk both the sacred sky and the messy ground.
And maybe that is the real path.
The bridge we build when we stop trying to rise above,
and instead, root down
into this sacred ground
with open hands
and hearts that remember.
A Meditation to Anchor You In
Take a quiet moment.
Place one hand on your heart, and one on your belly.
Close your eyes.
Breathe gently.
Ask yourself:
Where am I right now: form, formless, or somewhere in between?
What part of me needs to be mothered today?
Can I be exactly as I am, and still know I am whole?
You do not need to rise above your humanness to find your light.
It is here.
In your longing.
In your breath.
In your presence.
Let this be your bridge.
Let you be your bridge.
And if you need someone to sit beside you while you remember,
I am here.
If this spoke to you, share it with someone navigating their own dark night.
May the wisdom of your Meditative Insights light your way.
And may each step be a graceful return to your truest self.
With heartfelt gratitude,
Danielle
