Listen.
Not with your ears,
but with your breath,
with the space between your thoughts.

There is a whisper,
a rhythm beneath the visible world,
that senses you,
knows your path,
and slows your steps when needed.

When you stumble.
When things hide from you.
When time seems to pause.
It is not a mistake.
The field is asking:
Wait. Stay. Feel.
You are nearing a crossroads not yet meant to open.
Wait for the right light.

When your words vanish.
When your breath halts.
When your voice forgets itself.
Your field has decided:
some truths are not meant to be shared right now.
Guard the softness within.
Everything blooms in its own time.
Even truth.

When something cracks or trembles.
A candle snaps, a crystal shatters, a wave ripples through your spine.
Feel it.
An energy reached for you,
but your field caught it first.
Ask yourself:
What did I allow in that was not mine?

And your crown.
Your hair. Your light. Your channel.
Not every hand is meant to touch it.
Some carry threads that don’t belong in your weave.
Protect the purity of your reception.
Tune into the silence above you.

The field is always whispering.

Not to be heard,
but to be remembered.

You only have to listen.