What we’re sensing is the subtle current beneath everything; the world of energy unmanifested, before it crosses the threshold of the physical. The pulse before the heartbeat. The thought before the word. The idea before the invention. Energy is the unseen origin of everything. It’s what we feel when the air changes, or when someone walks into the room and our body reacts before our mind can name why.

You could say we are energy, reading energy, learning about itself through form.

Before nature expresses, energy has direction, purpose, and intelligence. The tree grows toward light because that is the law of its being. In doing so, it contributes to the ecosystem: taking carbon from the air, providing oxygen for others, anchoring the soil. It doesn’t hesitate over the type of fruit it bears. The flower blooms when the conditions are right, inviting life to pollinate it and ensure the continuation of its kind. Birds migrate according to timing encoded in their energy, moving toward fertile lands, avoiding dangers, following the intelligence within. They do not second-guess. They do not ask permission. Their design already knows how to move.

Humans, however, have a remarkable difference. We have the gift of choice—and with that gift comes the capacity to override our natural design. Our minds chatter, rehearse, and repress as we learn to perform what earns approval instead of expressing what is true. This forgetting, this disconnection from our original design, is what we call the human condition. I like to think of it as a software update we never consented to, installed at birth by well-meaning parents, teachers, and algorithms—and reinforced by everything we read, watch, or listen to. We are told who we are before we ever get to discover it for ourselves. Over time, external inputs start to drown out the internal intelligence.

Because of this, many live from the outside in, waiting for signs or validation, when the entirety of life is meant to unfold from the inside out.

Lucky for us, the source of life—the energy that is you—lies dormant, waiting. In this sense, spirituality is deceptively simple. It is not an ascent to something higher, but a descent into yourself, peeling away layers of conditioning and remembering the intelligence that animates you. And when you do, the world responds—not because you are special, but because energy has a way of reorganizing in coherence. Alignment is contagious. Clarity ripples outward. For the first time, you begin to live in a conversation with life, rather than in reaction to it.

It’s practical, too. You notice the energy beneath things—the tension in a room, the hesitation in a voice, the way someone occupies space. You’re learning to read reality in a new language, one not reserved for sages, psychics, or mystics. All the phrases that get shrugged off in New Age vernacular—“high vibration,” “attracting the life you want,” “being in alignment”—are really trying to describe coherence: clarity, authenticity, integrity in action. Someone in alignment expresses honestly, without distortion or blocking their truth. Their energy resonates. You feel it before you understand why. Conversely, someone out of alignment radiates dissonance. They attract more of what mirrors that incoherence—not because the universe is punishing them, but because energy behaves like gravity: like draws like.

It is an important recalibration for humankind to recognize that none of this requires belief. Nature doesn’t demand faith to exist. Chlorophyll does not need you to trust it, gravity does not need your approval, and your body doesn’t require belief to process oxygen. Energy doesn’t need your understanding to move. What matters is your attention. What matters is your capacity to distinguish between what is aligned and what is conditioned, what is authentic and what is rehearsed. That distinction is the foundation of conscious life. When you understand this, the stakes of living intentionally shift. It’s no longer about meeting expectations or performing the story society hands you. It becomes a practice of trusting your internal compass, following the intelligence encoded into you, and recognizing it in others. Every interaction, every environment, becomes a feedback loop reflecting either coherence or its absence.

So, when the air feels heavy, or when someone lights up a space simply by arriving, notice it. Don’t label it “good” or “bad.” Notice that energy is speaking before words exist. Notice your own energy speaking, too. Life unfolds more smoothly when you stop resisting, when you unclench, when you let nature move through you instead of trying to manufacture it from the outside.

Recognizing energy, understanding how it moves, and choosing to express authentically is how we move beyond the human condition as it has been handed to us. It is how conscious evolution happens, one coherent being at a time. One unclenched hand at a time. The more we remember our nature, the more life itself remembers how to move.