Lately, I’ve been thinking about what it means to get my spark back.
I’ve noticed how easy it is to become caught up in what I call the matrix—the systems, expectations, distractions, fears, and endless demands of society that can slowly pull us away from ourselves.
And I’ve realized that the matrix is a little like an onion.
There are layers.
Sometimes we peel away one layer and think, I see it now. I’m awake. I understand how this works.
But then the ego can become very skilled at navigating that new layer. It learns the rules. It figures out how to succeed within it. It tells us that because we can see the system, we are somehow free from it.
And then one day we realize:
We’re still in another layer of the onion.
For me, “the matrix” represents the parts of our society that seem to consume human energy rather than nurture human life.
It invites me to ask questions.
Does capitalism always serve humanity?
Does our relationship with money serve us?
Do our governments and institutions truly serve the people they were created to serve?
Does the pharmaceutical industry always prioritize healing?
Do the systems we participate in encourage us to become whole—or do they sometimes keep us distracted, consuming, striving, fearing, and searching outside ourselves?
These are big questions, and I don’t pretend to have every answer.
But I’m becoming less interested in spending my life fighting everything I believe is wrong.
I’m becoming much more interested in remembering what is right within me.
Returning to the Spark
Perhaps freedom begins with remembering something extraordinarily simple:
I am love.
I am loved.
I am a fractal of Source consciousness.
I am a divine spirit having a human experience.
And underneath the responsibilities, possessions, identities, accomplishments, disappointments, fears, desires, and stories I have accumulated, there is still a spark within me that has never disappeared.
Maybe getting my spark back isn’t actually about getting anything.
Maybe it is about removing everything that made me forget it was already there.
That spark feels like curiosity.
It feels like watching a very young child encounter the world with wonder.
It feels like a puppy discovering something completely ordinary and somehow finding it absolutely fascinating.
It feels like laughing.
Playing.
Exploring.
Being fascinated by life again.
It feels like sitting with another person and actually being there—not thinking about what I need to do next, where else I could be, what I should say, or what I want from them.
Just being present.
Seeing them.
Feeling the moment.
Experiencing life while it is actually happening.
Knowing Is Not the Same as Embodying
This is something I’m working on myself.
There are times when I’m in a session with someone and I hear myself sharing something that I deeply understand. And somewhere inside me, another voice says:
Yes. You know this too.
But knowing something intellectually and living it are two very different things.
At some point, spiritual knowledge has to leave the mind and enter the body.
We have to do it.
We have to live it.
We have to become it.
We can talk about presence—and then practice being present.
We can talk about love—and then choose love.
We can talk about authenticity—and then allow ourselves to be seen.
We can talk about freedom—and then notice the places where fear is still making our decisions.
We can talk about divine guidance—and then become quiet enough to actually listen.
That is the work I feel called toward now.
Not simply accumulating more knowledge.
Embodiment.
Is It the Divine—or Is It the Ego?
There will always be movement in life.
We grow. We change. We leave things behind. New desires emerge. Relationships shift. Opportunities appear. Doors close.
The question I’m learning to ask is:
Where is this movement coming from?
Am I moving because something within me genuinely feels alive?
Or am I running because my ego is uncomfortable?
Am I being guided toward expansion?
Or am I chasing something because I believe it will finally make me enough?
Is it time to shift?
Or have I simply become uncomfortable with being still?
I don’t think these questions always have immediate answers.
Sometimes we have to become quiet enough to feel the difference.
The divine spark does not always scream.
Sometimes it whispers.
Letting Life Come Back Into the Body
One of the most beautiful things to witness—in myself or another person—is when the life comes back.
You can almost see it.
Something changes in the eyes.
The heaviness begins to lift.
Curiosity returns.
Laughter returns.
Possibility returns.
The divine spirit seems to inhabit the body more fully again.
And perhaps that is one of the greatest acts of freedom available to us.
We may live in a world filled with frightening headlines, dysfunctional systems, conflict, fear, and uncertainty. We can acknowledge those realities without attaching our entire consciousness to them.
We do not have to carry the doom and gloom inside ourselves.
We do not have to give everything outside us authority over everything inside us.
We can become aware without becoming consumed.
We can question without becoming bitter.
We can see darkness without forgetting light.
And we can participate in this world without allowing the world to completely define us.
Getting My Spark Back
So right now, getting my spark back looks surprisingly simple.
It is loving myself more authentically.
It is being present.
It is choosing curiosity over certainty.
It is finding joy in ordinary moments.
It is noticing when fear is directing me.
It is questioning whether a desire comes from love or from ego.
It is remembering that another purchase, achievement, relationship, title, possession, or accomplishment cannot give me something that already exists within me.
It is letting myself play.
It is letting myself wonder.
It is letting myself love.
It is remembering that spirituality isn’t only something to understand.
It is something to embody.
Maybe awakening isn’t about escaping the matrix entirely.
Maybe part of awakening is becoming so deeply rooted in love, presence, authenticity, and our connection to Source that the systems around us no longer determine the state within us.
And maybe getting our spark back begins the moment we stop waiting for the world to give us permission to shine.
The spark was never gone.
It was simply waiting beneath the layers.
And now, I’m remembering it.
With Love,
Gage
