Everything that exists began as something that didn’t. Before a word, a sprout, or a thought, there was only potential—unseen and unformed, but alive. Humans may be the only species taught to notice only what has crossed the threshold of form, forgetting the richness of what exists before. There’s a language we speak fluently without ever acknowledging it. It slips out in the tone of:

They have a great vibe.
Something about that room felt off.
I’m drained.
We have a connection.

We treat these phrases as throwaway intuitions, but they’re evidence of a native literacy we’ve forgotten we possess. Even the most skeptical among us use energetic language to describe experiences that have no physical explanation. It’s our accidental mysticism peeking through.

What we’re pointing to in these moments is the pre-form world: the current beneath expression, the pulse before the heartbeat, the potential before it collapses into an event. Everything that becomes real begins here, in this invisible field of possibility. Humans sense it constantly, even when we pretend we don’t. We feel the weight of a room shift when someone enters, or detect the hollowness behind a smile before a word is spoken. Nervousness, authenticity, emptiness—they register in our bodies long before our minds can explain them. Dreams, déjà vu… these are glimpses of the world in its unseen dimensions. You could say we are energy, reading energy—life interacting with itself across different realms.

We’ve come to identify as physical beings on a physical plane, but every day we traffic in things with no mass: memories, gut feelings, dreams that feel like messages, the subtlety of whether someone is manipulative or sincere. We pretend these are happenings, but they unfold in places our hands can’t touch.

Even physics, in its strangest new frontiers, has begun to circle back to this truth. Quantum mechanics describes a world where particles hover in states of possibility until observation anchors them. Potential coexists with actualization. The unborn state is the material’s first language. Science is not proving mysticism; it is rediscovering the architecture mystics never forgot: that reality is participatory and shaped, in part, by how we meet it. There is a humility in this reminder that life does not begin in form; form is what energy looks like when it lingers long enough to become visible.

Nature understands this intuitively. A tree does not require evidence to grow toward light. A bird does not debate whether its migration instinct is legitimate. Everything nonhuman moves according to its internal coherence—its energetic design. But humans, gifted with choice, can override their design entirely. We can live from performance instead of perception, from conditioning instead of intuition. We rehearse acceptable versions of ourselves and call it maturity. We silence the intelligence within us and call it realism.

Over time, this distancing becomes the human condition: living from the outside in, waiting for the physical world to confirm what our internal world already knows. But the original intelligence never leaves. It waits. When you begin to listen inward again, life reorganizes around that listening. Coherence attracts coherence. Clarity ripples. The world becomes responsive because you are finally meeting it in your first language.

Many of the terms that get trivialized in pop spirituality such as “alignment,” “high frequency,” and “manifestation” are clumsy ways of describing coherence—the state in which one’s inner world and outer expression match. You feel coherence in a person long before you understand it. It arrives as a kind of ease. Incoherence arrives as friction, confusion, dissonance. Like draws like.

It’s important to note that none of this requires belief. Chlorophyll doesn’t need you to understand photosynthesis in order to turn sunlight into oxygen just like your body doesn’t need your permission to repair itself. Similarly, potential doesn’t need your faith to exist before becoming form. What matters is your ability to notice. To distinguish what is genuinely you from what is inherited. To sense coherence from the inside out. That distinction is the birth of agency, the birthplace of real choice.

Free will and destiny stop being opposites in this light. They become collaborators. You choose from your energetic state, and your choices collapse potential into form. You could have lived countless variations of your life, but you didn’t—you lived this one, the one made by the conditions of your inner world. Destiny is the trajectory shaped by how fully you inhabit your own coherence. Every moment offers new potentialities, as every act of awareness reshapes what becomes possible. Life expands or contracts depending on how deeply you listen.

So next time a room feels heavy or when someone brightens a space simply by being in it, take it in. Notice why without judging it. Sense without explaining. Let the unseen speak in its own language, the one your body already understands. Once we begin to recognize energy—our own and that of the world around us—as the primary language of experience, we gain a new capacity for engaging with life deliberately. We can choose how we respond, transform tension, and shape unfolding events before they harden into form.