A Time of Transition, Intuition, Experience, and the Construction of Reality
Welcome to the New Lunar Year, everyone !
Yesterday I intentionally didn’t write anything. Not because there was nothing to say, but because there was too much. So much is happening simultaneously in the cosmos, in astrology, and in the spiritual and energetic layers of reality that the rational mind struggles to keep up. Silence, in moments like this, is not avoidance. It is a form of alignment. It allows information to settle before it is translated into words.
We are officially in the Year of the Fire Horse. The energy accelerates sharply — not subtly, not gradually, but decisively. We moved from the year of the Wooden Snake into the year of the Fire Horse, from a time of inner shedding into a time of outward momentum. But acceleration does not mean chaos. It does not mean galloping without direction. Speed without awareness leads nowhere. Fire can illuminate, but it can also burn. Movement without intention becomes destruction.
Year 9 and the Year of the Snake were a time of shedding old skin. A year of endings, closures, irreversible transformations, and symbolic death. Things ended not because they failed, but because they were complete. A great deal happened. What was not meant to stay with us did not stay. Relationships dissolved, identities collapsed, roles lost meaning, illusions cracked. Some losses were devastating, others quietly necessary. But nothing happened without reason. Meaning is often revealed only after the fact, once resistance dissolves.
People often ask why, if they are good people, bad things happen to them. This question assumes a moral economy of reward and punishment that does not exist. It assumes that life operates on fairness rather than on experience. Things do not happen to you — they happen for you. As opportunities to grow, to feel, to mature, to experience the full spectrum of being human. To choose differently next time. To recognize patterns rather than repeat them unconsciously. The soul does not evolve through comfort alone.
We are spiritual beings who descended into form in order to experience human life in its entirety — not only joy, beauty, love, and expansion, but also grief, despair, loss, limitation, and uncertainty. There is no light without shadow. No creation without destruction. No birth without death. Things are the way they are because, at this stage of collective consciousness, they must be.
As awareness grows, we stop reacting blindly and begin observing reality. We step out of automatic identification with events and begin to see patterns. We realize that what we call “the world” is, to a large extent, a projection of subconscious structures — inherited, conditioned, and internalized. When this understanding lands, perception changes. Responsibility returns. Victimhood dissolves. We recognize ourselves as co-creators rather than passive recipients of fate.
Everything is energy. Everything exists within one interconnected field. Thoughts, emotions, intuition — which is the voice of the soul — ancestral memory, and non-physical guidance all operate within the same continuum. Linear time collapses. We are simultaneously the present, the past, and the future. We are our own ancestors and our own guides. Intuition is not something external or mystical — it is the self remembering itself through the body, the nervous system, and awareness. The only requirement is openness. The willingness to listen rather than control.
Intuition exists in everyone. Some people are more attuned to it, others less, but no one is without it. Over the years, I have encountered many pseudo-teachers who emphasized their own uniqueness, superiority, or special abilities. This is always a warning sign. Anyone who positions themselves above you instead of pointing you back to your own inner authority is not a teacher. True guidance strengthens autonomy. It does not create dependence. It does not ask for worship or submission.
Fear-based teaching is particularly dangerous for those who are newly awakened — people who are sensitive, open, and searching for orientation. Everything feels unfamiliar. The old structures no longer work, but new ones have not yet formed. Questions multiply. Answers are scarce. In such moments, it is easy to hand your power over to someone who claims certainty, clarity, or exclusive access to truth.
If I could give advice to myself at the beginning of my spiritual path, it would be this: keep your heart open, but set clear boundaries. Take care of your body, your nervous system, and your mental health. Do not bypass your humanity in the name of spirituality. And above all, trust yourself — because you already know. Your body knows. Your intuition knows. Your discomfort is information. Your expansion is guidance.
Pay attention not only to insights that come during the day, but also to what arrives at night. I am awakened almost every night between 4 and 5 a.m. by some form of message. Sometimes it comes as symbolic imagery, sometimes as a literal and precise transmission. Sometimes it is not a dream at all, but a clear intuitive knowing that arrives fully formed. I never ignore warnings or signals, especially those related to people, relationships, and unfolding events in my life.
I have had dreams that saved my life. One of them prevented a fatal car accident. I was asleep, my face resting against the window, when I dreamed that a white van crashed into my door, shattered the glass, and killed me. I woke up abruptly, lifted my head, moved toward the driver and away from the door. Moments later, the accident happened exactly as in the dream. The door was crushed inward, glass exploded everywhere, cutting my face — but I survived. The dream mirrored the event one-to-one, less than a minute before impact. Without that dream, I would most likely not be writing this today.
I have had many such dreams — warnings about people, situations, and decisions. They always proved accurate. They saved me from harm, chaos, and irreversible consequences. I also experience dreams that announce encounters. When I dream of a specific person without symbolism, interpretation, or warning, I meet them the next day. This is not coincidence. It is energetic sequencing — information arriving before manifestation.
Nothing in this world is accidental. Coincidence does not exist. Everything is connected, like a Wi-Fi signal — invisible, yet undeniably real. Ironically, people accept this analogy technologically, but reject it existentially. They trust invisible signals when it comes to devices, but deny invisible connections when it comes to life.
Scientists such as Einstein, Tesla, and Marie Skłodowska-Curie all said the same thing: everything is energy. And yet, while the Newtonian model of reality is considered legitimate science, perspectives that acknowledge consciousness, energy, and non-linearity are dismissed as irrational or “woo-woo.” Completely unjustly. They were right about energy. Quantum physics today dismantles the Newtonian worldview. We still cling to it because abandoning it entirely would leave our physical reality without structure. A world without rigid rules — in a reality ordered largely by human-made illusion — would not yet be functional. We simply do not have the tools to live without that scaffolding.
Indoctrination, fear, media frequencies, eclipses, memory, and regression of consciousness
This realization leads directly to the subject of indoctrination. If you ask the average person whether they have been indoctrinated, they will almost always say no. And yet the world we live in is profoundly synthetic. It is an artificial construction, designed to regulate behavior, predict reactions, and maintain control at a collective level. It does not exist to serve human development, but to preserve power structures and generate unconsciousness on a mass scale.
We are entering the era of Pluto in Aquarius, an era that demands collective awakening rather than individual escapism. But Pluto in Aquarius has two faces. One leads toward decentralization, shared responsibility, and conscious use of technology. The other leads toward total surveillance, digital control, and the replacement of organic human connection with algorithmic management. High-vibration Pluto in Aquarius is not automatic. It requires awareness, integrity, and active participation. It requires the end of corrupted power structures, the end of systems built on exploitation, and a redefinition of masculinity away from domination and toward responsibility. The misuse of masculine energy, especially through violence, control, and the exploitation of women and children, must end.
For many years, those who spoke about population control, systemic corruption, institutional abuse, and harm inflicted on the most vulnerable were ridiculed, marginalized, and labeled insane. In reality, they were often the only ones willing to see clearly and speak without fear. We live in a world in which people unknowingly fund abuse through taxes, while being told that sacrificing health, fertility, and even life itself is necessary for economic stability and progress. The poor, the weak, and the inconvenient are treated as expendable, while suffering is normalized and justified.
This is not peace. This is war. Not only geopolitical war, but a collective war of consciousness. A war waged through information, fear, distraction, and exhaustion. We are entering a long, multi-year eclipse cycle, and eclipses are not symbolic ornaments or abstract astrological concepts. An eclipse is a glitch in the system. It is a rupture in the projected continuity of reality. It interrupts programming, destabilizes false narratives, and exposes structures that rely on denial and illusion.
Eclipses bring fate. Not coincidence. Not randomness. Fate — as consequence, as inevitability, as the culmination of choices made long ago. During eclipse seasons, timelines accelerate. What has been postponed can no longer be delayed. What has been hidden is forced into visibility. Events unfold rapidly, often chaotically, and feel irreversible because they are. Eclipses remove the illusion of control. They do not ask whether we are ready. They deliver consequence.
For those living unconsciously, eclipse periods feel like crisis, confusion, and loss of stability. For those who are aware, they feel like revelation. Systems fall not because they are attacked, but because they can no longer sustain the lie. Masks drop. Information leaks. Truth surfaces. Reality recalibrates itself, whether welcomed or resisted.
You look — but do you see?
Or do you choose not to see?
And do you turn away, even when fate is already in motion?
This is not a metaphorical question. It is a practical one. Because perception determines participation, and participation determines responsibility.
Media and propaganda operate at extremely low energetic frequencies because fear sells. Violence, catastrophe, outrage, sexualization, and constant stimulation generate attention and profit. Integrity, honesty, depth, and truth do not. This is not accidental — it is calculated. Most of humanity operates close to survival consciousness. Below 200 on the Hawkins scale, instinct dominates reason, and fear disables discernment.
Television, mainstream media, and mass entertainment are deliberately calibrated low. Television content oscillates roughly between 70 and 90 on the Hawkins scale — the same range as fear, grief, apathy, and aggression. Video games, especially those built around violence, domination, competition, and endless reward loops, often calibrate around 80. These frequencies lock the nervous system into a chronic fight-or-flight state. A consciousness trapped in survival mode cannot access intuition, cannot perceive nuance, and cannot think long-term. It reacts instead of choosing. And reaction is easy to control.
Repetition is the mechanism. Repetition of threat. Repetition of catastrophe. Repetition of fear-based narratives until fear becomes normalized, internalized, and accepted as reality. People confuse stimulation with meaning, noise with information, and volume with truth. Once discernment collapses, authority no longer requires force. Compliance is generated internally.
This collective regression of consciousness is not new. Humanity has already witnessed where fear, propaganda, and blind obedience lead. War. Annihilation. Genocide. Fascism did not emerge spontaneously. Adolf Hitler did not rise to power alone. He rose because he had institutional support, including the support of the Bishop of Brandenburg. Religious authority legitimized political violence. Economic programs were used then, just as they are used now, to justify dehumanization and exclusion.
What is most disturbing today is how easily people forget. People forget where war leads. They forget what persecution looks like. They forget that fascist movements always begin with promises of order, safety, and economic stability. They forget that those who support such systems eventually become their victims — especially those of mixed heritage, mixed identity, or any form of perceived “difference.” By supporting fascist ideologies, people place themselves on the scaffold. History repeats itself because memory fades.
The counterculture of the 1960s emerged as a direct response to this historical trauma. Post-war Europe was devastated not only physically, but psychologically. Entire generations grew up among ruins, carrying unprocessed grief, paranoia, and fear. Pacifism, civil rights movements, environmental awareness, and spiritual exploration were not trends or luxuries — they were acts of refusal. Refusal to repeat annihilation. Refusal to normalize violence. Refusal to obey blindly.
This era also gave rise to what are often called Indigo children — individuals characterized by heightened sensitivity, strong intuition, and a natural resistance to authoritarian systems. Whether understood spiritually, psychologically, or symbolically, they represented a rupture in conditioning. They could not be easily programmed because they sensed that something fundamental was wrong.
At the same time, research into altered states of consciousness expanded. Psychedelics were perceived as dangerous not because they caused harm, but because they revealed truth. Psilocybin, a completely natural substance, does not cause addiction and has profound therapeutic potential. Consciousness expanded — and control tightened in response. Decades of potential healing and understanding were lost to fear and suppression.
People have already forgotten what destruction leads to. And yet destruction returns, again and again, because consciousness regresses instead of evolving. The development of consciousness seems to require destruction, because humanity refuses to grow without it. It is painful, but this is how it is.
Contemporary Resistance of Consciousness, Embodiment, and Love as Practice
From the counterculture of the 1960s to contemporary movements of conscious resistance, the underlying pattern remains the same. Whenever systems become too rigid, too violent, or too detached from lived human experience, consciousness responds. Sometimes it does so visibly, through protest and collective rupture, and sometimes quietly, through individual withdrawal from lies, fear, and imposed narratives. Resistance does not always announce itself. Often it begins as a subtle refusal — a refusal to participate in what feels dehumanizing, numbing, or false.
Today, conscious resistance looks different than it did in previous decades. It is less centralized, less identifiable, and therefore more difficult to control. It rarely takes the form of grand movements or heroic gestures. More often, it appears in everyday choices: in how people relate to their bodies, how they regulate their nervous systems, how they engage with information, how they form relationships, and how they decide where to place their attention. It shows up in the willingness to slow down in a culture addicted to speed, to remain present in a world built on distraction, and to choose discernment over outrage.
This kind of resistance begins internally. A person who withdraws consent from fear-based narratives has already stepped outside the system. A person who no longer allows constant stimulation to govern their emotional state becomes difficult to manipulate. When awareness returns to the body — to breath, sensation, and internal signals — intuition becomes accessible again. Discernment sharpens. Reaction gives way to choice. Consciousness ceases to be abstract and becomes embodied.
Embodiment is essential because consciousness does not exist separately from the body. A disconnected body is easy to dominate. A dysregulated nervous system is easily controlled through fear, urgency, and repetition. Returning to the body restores orientation. It allows experience to be felt rather than interpreted prematurely. It creates the conditions in which intuition, insight, and clarity can emerge naturally, without force.
This path is not easy. Living consciously in a world that rewards numbness, conformity, and constant stimulation requires effort, honesty, and endurance. It often involves periods of disorientation, grief, and the collapse of identities that once provided safety. Those who see clearly are rarely celebrated. They are inconvenient. They disrupt comfort and expose contradictions. And yet, every meaningful shift in human history has begun with a minority willing to remain awake when sleep was easier.
Love, in this context, is not sentimentality or idealization. It is not a performance or a moral posture. Love is a quality of being and a way of relating to reality. It is presence without denial. It includes boundaries, truth, and the courage to interrupt harm. Love does not mean passivity. It means responsiveness — the capacity to meet what is happening without turning away.
Love is also relational. Consciousness discovers itself through relationship — through projection, mirroring, rupture, and repair. We encounter ourselves in others not because they complete us, but because they reveal what remains unseen, unresolved, or unintegrated. Relationship becomes a field of awareness when we stay present instead of escaping into blame, fantasy, or withdrawal. In this way, intimacy becomes a practice of consciousness rather than an emotional transaction.
The road may be rough. Awakening rarely unfolds in a linear or graceful way. It often involves confusion, uncertainty, and the sense of standing between worlds — no longer able to return to old structures, yet not fully rooted in new ones. What matters is not where you are going, but how you are moving. Whether you remain present, grounded, and attentive. Whether you stay connected to the body instead of dissociating into ideas, beliefs, or expectations.
An open heart does not mean a naïve heart. It means a heart capable of empathy without abandoning discernment. Respect for others begins with respect for oneself — with self-honesty, with the refusal to betray one’s own perception in order to belong. Serving humanity does not require self-erasure or martyrdom. It requires integrity and coherence between inner truth and outer action.
By serving humanity, you serve yourself — not as a moral statement, but as a practical one. Separation is an illusion sustained by fear and conditioning. What you allow to be destroyed elsewhere eventually reaches you. What you protect in others, you protect in yourself. Consciousness is not an abstract ideal. It is lived, practiced, and chosen repeatedly in ordinary moments.
For those who wish to explore this process of consciousness more deeply — not as a theory to be mastered, but as an experience to be lived — I wrote Islands Within – The Cartography of Consciousness. It was created with the intention of describing an inner process as it unfolds, and of offering orientation to those who need it while finding their own way back to themselves. This is the book I wish I had been able to read at the beginning of my own journey, when there were many questions and very little language to hold what was happening.
The book does not impose a path or prescribe a method. Instead, it stays close to lived experience, offering reflections that allow recognition to arise naturally. While it does not present answers as fixed conclusions, it carries many of them — embedded in experience, presence, and insight rather than instruction. It is meant to accompany moments of transition, uncertainty, and quiet awakening, offering language, clarity, and support without taking authority away from the reader.
This is not an ending.
It is an opening.
This is a time of acceleration, exposure, and choice. What is unfolding is not meant to be comfortable, but it is meant to be seen. Each moment asks not for certainty, but for presence — not for belief, but for responsibility. The way forward is not collective in abstraction, but individual in practice, lived through attention, integrity, and embodied awareness. And while the path may look uncertain, what matters most is that we remain awake within it, remembering that consciousness does not arrive someday — it is exercised now.
As you have probably noticed, I am in Bali. I can summarize it only this way: what is meant to be will be. Coincidence does not exist, so I simply followed the voice of intuition — nothing more and nothing less. This is how I am working today, and I send you my warm greetings.
Love,
Laura
