We can carry the weight of misalignment for years.
The forced smiles.
The words we swallow.
The burdens we were never meant to hold.
All of it, quietly gnawing from the inside.
When the gap between our inner knowing and outer life grows too wide, something gives.
Sometimes the shift is subtle.
Other times, it’s a breaking—loud, messy, undeniable.
That’s why this work matters.
Not to patch or pretend.
But to stop the break from becoming catastrophic.
Because your truth never left you.
It’s always been there, waiting.
And when you finally live it—when your life and your knowing come into resonance—
you don’t just survive.
You come alive.
Even if the break is catastrophic, your truth lives on.
It doesn’t shatter.
It waits.
Sometimes it takes collapse for the layers to fall away.
When the pain of staying the same finally outweighs the fear of change.
These moments—when life strips us bare—
are what I call:
Being Eaten by the Bear.
It’s not poetic when you’re in it.
It’s survival.
It’s surrender.
It’s a reckoning.
But it’s also a return.
This is the time to center yourself.
To search for your truth like misplaced keys you know are nearby.
To stop sacrificing your soul just because someone’s watching.
To stop delaying your return because fear keeps whispering, “Not yet.”
Release the burdens. Re-write the stories.
Refine the version of you who shows up when no one’s watching.
Let that person carry your truth forward—into the light of day.
Find it.
Lock onto it.
And let it shape the life that comes next.
