Beyond the Fix: Walking Through the Threshold of Remembering

We are born into a culture that worships utility.

That demands progress.

That defines success by how much we can produce, improve, or perform.

And so when we awaken—when something ancient stirs within us and we glimpse a deeper truth—our first instinct is to do something with it.

Monetize it.

Build a platform around it.

Use it to get ahead.

Use it to fix ourselves, or someone else.

Make it useful.

This is the shadow of consumerism in our spiritual lives.

It colonizes even our most sacred inner terrain, whispering that awakening is just another resource to be optimized.

That remembering must be converted into something—tangible, measurable, worthy.

I know this intimately.

I spent years moving from course to course, teacher to teacher, constantly reaching for the next upgrade. And while each step held value and beauty, beneath it all was a quiet desperation:

“Maybe this will finally fix what’s wrong with me.”

“Maybe this will make me worthy.”

“Maybe this will make me enough.”

But what if there was never anything wrong?

What if the ache we carry isn’t a sign of brokenness—but the soul’s grief at being measured in metrics that were never made for us?

This is the moment the ground begins to give way.

There comes a point—subtle yet seismic—when you stop striving and simply remember. When the truth of your own wholeness, your own divinity, rises from within like a tide you can no longer hold back.

And in that moment, you walk through a threshold.

You leave behind the terrain of self-improvement, self-judgment, and self-optimization.

You step into a space where there is nothing to fix.Nothing to hustle for.Nothing to prove.

Just being.

Just breath.

Just you—as you are—eternally enough.

And no, it’s not a clean break.

The world doesn’t stop trying to seduce you back into its performance metrics.

Your nervous system doesn’t instantly forget decades of conditioning.

You may still feel the urge to be useful, to produce something, to validate your insight through action.

But from the other side of remembering, you start to see those urges for what they are: echoes.

Old brain patterns.

Survival strategies dressed as ambition.

They aren’t you.

And so you practice.

You practice living in alignment with what you now remember.

You practice saying no to paths that no longer resonate, even if they look “successful.”

You practice presence.

Stillness.

Sacred uselessness.

Because true wholeness has nothing to prove.

It doesn’t need a business plan.

It doesn’t need a launch strategy.

It doesn’t need to be productive.

It just is.

And when you root yourself in that knowing, the need to explain, sell, or fix yourself dissolves.

You become a living invitation—

Not to progress,

Not to performance,

But to presence.

You are not here to be useful.

You are here to be whole.

And that, changes everything.