The Trap — Egoic Spirituality
You’ve walked this road already.
Sat in circles. Held the sacred medicine cup.
Prayed, wept, fasted, purged and had momentary ecstatic relief.
So no—this isn’t the beginning of your path.
But maybe you can feel it now: the quiet invitation to stop chasing light and start letting it live through you as you.
Ask yourself, “How afraid are you of being fully present, completely radiant, allowing others to notice and acknowledge it?”
The most cunning disguise of the ego isn’t arrogance.
It’s its ability to become spiritualized.
The subtle belief that because we understand, we are awake in the new dream.
That clarity means embodiment.
That insight equals transformation.
But true radiant presence can’t be thought into existence.
It’s not a curriculum.
It’s a cellular reorganization, on a DNA level.
It must live in the body, in the field, in the pulse of each breath.
The ego studies God.
The HIGHER SELF remembers.
The difference is frequency, not philosophy.
The quantum field doesn’t respond to know how; it recognizes frequencies and always matches them perfectly.
So what if I told you the new dream will never arrive?
Because it’s already here, patiently waiting for you to match its frequency 24/7. It really isn’t interested in your 30 minutes of meditation or other spiritual, intellectual practices. It recognizes that during the rest of your day, the 23 and a half hours, you’re not fully present. So it always aligns with the dominate frequency.
Quite often, when people are asked to describe what it feels like to stand in the new dream, they answer from the head — conceptual, emotional, even eloquent — yet untouched by presence. They default to what they’ve been taught about feeling, instead of feeling itself. This is spiritual bypassing dressed as understanding: the mind trying to perform the divine instead of embodying it.
They narrate rather than inhabit. They know the language of surrender but not its temperature. This is the attempt to domesticate the feral in the jaguar — to make sacred power manageable, polite, and free of risk. But the wild doesn’t yield to explanation. The jaguar can’t be tamed by words; she must be met in silence.
The Descent — Jaguar Medicine and the Shadow Gate
Jaguar doesn’t teach through comfort.
She arrives when you’re ready to stop performing peace and start living truth.
Jaguar is fierce clarity. She stalks illusion.
She sniffs out spiritual bypassing in its sweetest robes.
When she enters, the air sharpens; every pretense built for safety begins to crumble.
She asks:
What part of you hides behind light?
What truth have you edited to remain lovable?
Where have you mistaken avoidance for peace?
This is descent—the underbelly of transformation.
Not punishment, but purification.
Jaguar doesn’t destroy; she digests.
Everything false becomes fuel for coherence.
When you let her hunt through you, she finds the ancestral signatures, the frozen grief still shaping your choices.
And with one steady gaze, she invites you to feel them—
not analyze, not transcend, but embody.
Only then does energy rearrange.
Only then does prayer turn to power.
Embodiment cue:
Feel your spine as a living stalk.
Let your exhale drop lower than comfort.
When the tremor comes, don’t brace—witness.
That is jaguar passing through.
The Dissolving — When the Ally Becomes the Field
At first, the medicine walks beside you.
It wears a shape—claws, wings, scales—so your human eyes can recognize it.
You pray to it, call it in, ask for guidance.
You still believe in two: you and it. It’s you holding it in separation.
Then something quieter happens.
The boundary softens.
You no longer summon jaguar; she stirs inside your breath.
You no longer see serpent; your body moves with her undulation when you release control.
You no longer follow hummingbird; your heart lifts on its own, light enough to hover between worlds.
This is not possession.
It’s coherence.
The return of what was never truly separate.
Every power animal is a frequency of your own luminous body—
Jaguar, the instinct that remembers truth through courage.
Serpent, the body remembering how to shed its story.
Condor, the vision that sees beyond fear.
Hummingbird, the heart proving joy survives the breaking open.
When they blend into you, the dreamer and the dream become one. You journey through life not just as a seeker, but as a shaman—connected to the field itself—awake, responsive, and complete. You’re the living embodiment of these energies, more than just an idea, but a dynamic expression of truth, flowing through your thoughts and radiating as pure presence.
The Return — Becoming the Medicine
Once jaguar has fed, silence follows.
Not emptiness, but spaciousness—
the absence of defense.
The moment when doing stops and being begins.
This is where the real ceremony starts:
The daily, unglamorous art of integration.
Not collecting experiences, but metabolizing them.
Not chasing vision, but living truth.
To become the medicine is to stop seeking it.
To recognize that your nervous system is the altar.
Your breath is the prayer.
Your presence is the transmission.
You don’t need more teachings.
You need practices that return you to the body,
again and again, until the divine no longer feels distant—
because it’s wearing your face.
Integration cue:
When fear rises, place a hand on your heart and one on mother earth whisper:
“Jaguar, walk with me. Show me what’s real.”
Then listen—not for an answer, but for a resonance.
Closing Transmission
Presence is not ascent. Its embodiment.
It’s the courage to stay present in the new dream that has already arrived—
in the trembling, in the truth, in the body.
You are not here to perform presence.
You are here to live it, breathe it, sweat it—
until your very presence becomes medicine.
BE
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