Words like spirituality and enlightenment never felt quite fitting to describe my experience of self-discovery. They seemed heavy with detachment and veiled in exclusivity, as if they were reserved for the kind of people who embarked on long pilgrimages or were immortalized in history books. But the essence of these words, stripped of their associations, holds something universal and deeply human. Spirituality is not a coming-to-God moment reserved for a select few. It is the profoundly human experience of remembering Truth—not the truth we’ve been conditioned to see, nor the one we wish for, but truth as it is.

Imagine humankind walking through life wearing color-tinted glasses, unaware of their presence. We assume the world is the color of our lenses because it is all we have ever known. To see the full spectrum of color, we must first realize that the glasses exist, and then have the courage to remove them.

This metaphor is one of the clearest ways I’ve found to describe spirituality in action. Each of us is born into this world free of glasses: no judgments, no beliefs, no labels for the things we encounter, no concept of time or money. We begin life fully present, open to the raw experience of existence. But as we grow, fleeting thoughts and experiences harden into personal truths. These truths then form the framework for the lenses we view the world through. Over time, these lenses become so familiar that they feel invisible. Few of us pause to question their presence or wonder if what we see is true. Instead, we compare our tinted perspectives with others’, trying to prove that our color is the right one. Rarely do we pause to wonder if a world might exist beyond the lenses altogether.

The Human Condition as Tinted Lenses

These lenses can be seen as the human condition: beliefs, fears, and patterns instilled by family, culture, and systems. They help us navigate the world but often become blindspots, constricting our ability to grow into our fullest potential.

I call this lived experience of awakening conscious unwinding. It is the art of undoing—the stripping away of illusions and a return to what has always been. To stick with our metaphor, it is an acquired toolkit for recognizing and removing the lenses that distort our view. Call it the Aquarius in me, but I hold out hope that if we could all see the world in its unfiltered state, maybe world peace wouldn’t feel so unattainable.

A Strange and Paradoxical People

In making it something of my life’s work to demystify the ideas of spirituality, I’ve been struck by how paradoxical we are as a people. We collectively acknowledge that we live on a floating organic marble in the vastness of outer space, and yet we are so confident in sorting things into categories of what is realistic and what is not. I’ve always thought the image of Earth alone should be enough to dissolve the notion that anything could be “too out there.”

We worship technology powered by the very minerals and crystals we mock others for finding meaning in and healing through. We honor that a star, our Sun, sustains all life on Earth while rolling our eyes at those who find wisdom in practices like Astrology.

It is a strange tendency we have to discredit what we don’t fully understand or have been conditioned to dismiss. And yet, we simultaneously accept the absurdity of existence itself—the profound mystery of being here at all.

Blooming Toward Truth

I think of this process of conscious unwinding as a slow bloom. A seed does not bloom without first breaking through its shell, just as we cannot grow without first releasing the beliefs and patterns that confine us. The shell serves its purpose—it protects the seed, contains its potential, and nurtures it during the earliest stages of existence. But to remain within the shell is to deny the fullness of life.

In breaking through, the seed experiences both loss and creation. It surrenders the safety of its boundaries to embrace the uncertainty of growth. This is the paradox of awakening. Each act of release feels like a small death, but it is also an act of creation. As we loosen the hold of old beliefs, we create space for new experiences, new ways of seeing, new truths. Life begins to feel less like a burden and more like a collaboration between what has been and what is becoming.

Growth is not forced; it is allowed. A flower does not strain toward the sun, nor does it cling to its roots in fear. It simply responds, opening petal by petal to the light. In the same way, we can allow ourselves to bloom toward the truth of who we are.

A New Path Of Knowing

For much of my journey, the path has been intellectual—poring over ancient wisdom traditions, studying spiritual practices—but these were never the destination. They were tools, a means of deprogramming. Almost a decade of isolation and curiosity returned me to a blank slate that, while surely imperfect, has provided me with a perspective of life that is deeply connected, endlessly interactive, and profoundly magical.

This journal is a living archive of reflections from this continued path of mine: a spattering of gathered wisdom, forgotten truths, and inspired musings as someone alive in an extraordinary time, weaving between the worlds of Earth and Spirit.