Divine discomfort
Love, Liberation, and the Lessons of Unease
More than ever, I am feeling inspired by my own discomfort.
The language of my body longing for ease. The sacredness of my soul searching for harmony. The mirages in my mind reminding me of miracles.
And I’m allowing— every little piece, every little part, and every edge of intensity to speak directly to me.
And what I find over and over again: There’s great work to do. There's great work to do. There’s great work to do.
The question becomes: Will I?
Because it takes effort to stay with uncertainty. It takes will to stay with dis-ease. It takes power to push through the sensations of discomfort— Not allowing it to pull me down or trap me in.
It takes heart. Soul. And the pulse of purpose through the pain.
And I know I will. And I know I can.
Discomfort is not dangerous.
To be inspired by discomfort means I have to stay with my discomfort. And right now, the climate is uncomfortable. I am uncomfortable. And I trust it.
All of my lived experience thus far has been preparing me— To stay with this. This moment. This miracle. This madness.
And here is what my discomfort has to say:
I’m uncomfortable with the number of Black and brown bodies being killed, separated, oppressed, unheard, unseen, unknown, and lost with injustice and indignity. I am uncomfortable with the resistance against the movements calling for justice, for truth, for liberation. I am uncomfortable that families are being torn apart, that cruelty is a policy, that human lives are reduced to numbers and threats. I am uncomfortable with the spiritual bypassing living out loud in wellness spaces—the belief that we can simply “love and light” our way out of harm while systems crush those deemed disposable. I am uncomfortable with the fear in my mind telling me I cannot speak my truth of discomfort because it does not match the misalignment of the world or the ideals of my community. I smile and laugh. This discomfort is my livelihood. Trust it. Keep going…
I am uncomfortable knowing my ancestors were oppressed, erased, and that the echoes of that oppression remain alive today. I am uncomfortable knowing my parents weren’t able to heal, weren’t able to navigate their own pain. I am uncomfortable witnessing those in power intentionally inflicting harm, and even more uncomfortable witnessing how many continue to uphold them.
I am uncomfortable in the midst of a climate crisis that is escalating before our eyes, while those with the ability to change its course refuse to act. I am uncomfortable in a world where the truth is malleable, where lies are platforms, where the people screaming for justice are villainized while those committing atrocities are protected.
I am uncomfortable with my own identity, or perhaps the ways in which I still struggle to fully name who I am, where I come from, and where I belong. I am uncomfortable with my guilt. I am uncomfortable with my blame. I am uncomfortable with my shame. I am uncomfortable with how often I have bypassed my own comfort to make so many others comfortable.
I am uncomfortable. And I find comfort in it.
It reminds me I still have great work to do. So I must stay inspired. So thank you, discomfort—thank you.
You are here to teach me and transform me through the change and the challenge and the chafing of being alive right now. In this world. In this country. At this moment in time.
Every little ache. Every little sensation Of tension, Suffocation, All the triggers of truth.
It’s all here to guide me through. And I thank it.
Discomfort is DIVINE.
This world—ego-default, opposite of divinity—wants us to feel stuck, suppressed, separate. It does not teach us how to BE with it all— Even if we don’t like it. Especially if we don’t like it.
By feeling and seeing and knowing what harm does— On the interpersonal level, In our bodies, In our communities, In our collective history, We begin to transcend our wounds into ways in which we heal. We repair. We find our way through.
And there is so much to repair right now. The beautiful thing is: we each have a role to play. It begins right where we land.
We need each other. We need accountability. We need the willingness to sit in discomfort— Not to be paralyzed by it, but to learn from it, to be shaped by it, to let it move us toward the world we ache for.
We get to be the ones who repair and reclaim. We get to be the ones who shine light on the guilt and cut cords to the blame. We get to know who we are. And in turn, who we are to each other.
So please, sit with your discomfort. Greet it. Welcome it in. What does it have to say?
And please, Do not stop changing. Do not stop allowing the lessons to come your way. No matter how hard they seem to be. You can do this—your soul and being are strong.
And may we keep dreaming of a world where we are constantly held through the challenges of change and the discomfort of processing what it means to be alive, awake, aware. May we find the strength to weave our truth into the world—one healing connection at a time.
This is the work I have been doing and am committed to keep doing. I am repairing myself— All the ways in which I have allowed separation and accepted illusion in place of truth, fear instead of love, friction over flow.
I am repairing the damage done by listening to my discomfort.
And I have found the remedies to be: Forgiveness. Acceptance. Constant change. Constant compassion. Constant Love.
They lead to understanding. They lead to contentment. They lead to courage. They lead to change.
May we love justice through us. May we love liberation through us.
Start small. Remember you are Sacred. And please, be sweet.
We need you. And I love you.
(And now is the time where you need you and your own Divine love.)
Do the work, brave warrior. We need you and all of your discomfort. We need you and all your Love, Liberation, and lessons.
—Keri
Being With It All
Discomfort isn’t the enemy. It’s a doorway. A teacher. A pulse reminding us that we are here, that we are alive, that we are capable of healing, of choosing, of being. But in a world that thrives on our distraction, our disconnection, our distance from truth—being with what is can feel like the hardest thing to do.
Still, the heart knows. The soul knows. Even when the mind resists, there is something deeper that remains steady, guiding us home.
So, let’s sit together in this space of knowing. Not fixing. Not forcing. Just being.
Three questions to sit with:
Who benefits from your lack of being?
Who benefits from the distance between ourselves and truth?
What would it feel like to trust the light and sensations within, even when it’s hard?
May this be an invitation—not to solve, but to soften. Not to rush, but to remember. Not to do, but to be.
(ps, I love you, I love you, I love you…)
PS: In the spirit of being—of embracing the moment and the messages that surround us—tomorrow (2/5) at 1:15pm EST, join me and my fellow traveler in compassion here on Substack for a LIVE meditation! We'll explore the wisdom the animals are offering us this month, guiding us to simply BE, to BE, to BE. Let’s come together and BE in this energy, y’all!
February’s Pet Loss Grief Circle: Grief, Ground, & Gratitude
Join me and
for a Sacred 2-hour space of connection and healing in our Pet Loss Grief Circle. Together, we’ll honor and listen to the messages from our beloved pets, share memories, and practice gentle movement and breath to navigate grief.Date: Sunday, February 16, 2025
Time: 1:00 PM - 3:00 PM EST
Location: Zoom (virtual gathering)
Fee: $45
Limited to: 8 participants (registration required)
This intimate space is for those experiencing any form of animal loss—whether it's the grief of a passing or the pain of parting ways. Grief takes many forms, and we will hold it all with love, truth, and tenderness. Bring any photos, trinkets, or symbols of love and grief you wish to share.
Our time together will include:
Gentle grounding practice for body, mind, and spirit
Heart-centered reflection and sharing
Listening to each other’s truths, stories, struggles, and sacred signs
Messages from our beloved animals, with insights shared by Julie Hirt, animal communicator and intuitive, and Oracle readings shared by Keri
In this space, we make room for grief to breathe, as we learn to navigate, express, and move with the big feelings that come with love, loss, and living on. All forms of grief are welcomed here.
Registration required: https://www.juliehirt-intuitive.com/events/pet-loss-grief-circle-february-2025
PSS: Gentle Reminder, community: Public practices are now being offered every Saturday morning at The Hive. We’re in the early stages of this new studio space— a welcoming community hub where we’re reminded of the nectar and honey we can create together in our lives and communities.
At this time, we don’t have a registration system, so simply come as you are! Doors open 15 minutes before practice begins and close 5 minutes after. All are welcome.
Thank you ♥️
So supportive! Discomfort is Divine - yes!