The Spiritual Social

Tag: game

  • The Ex : The Unconscious and Dangerous Growth

    Still from the game Tenebris Somnia created by Cancer Sun Andres Borghi, in which Julia faces for the final time her antagonist, the witchy Vitria

    I’m gradually waking up from being under the spell of two games in the last weeks, and these are the newly released Tenebris Somnia and Silver Pines. I don’t have the guts to play them myself but I watched the full gameplays on channels like TheSavchyngames and CJUGames on Youtube and I highly recommend that you give them a try. Instead of falling asleep to a movie each night, I would make a cup of cocoa and watch one hour of each game until dreams eventually overtook me. I must admit I had some fascinating dreams after each game, which then transformed into paintings (but more about this in an upcoming post).

    Tenebris Somnia (or dark dreams in Latin) is described on Steam as a “retro survival horror adventure game with live action cutscenes created by an award-winning film crew from Argentina. Unveil the depths of a disturbing story by solving puzzles and fighting horrible creatures. …What if they aren’t just nightmares?“. I don’t know why, but the atmosphere of the game is reminiscent to me of the movies “The Headless Woman” and “Santa Sangre“, two weird gems of Argentine cinema that have been haunting me ever since I saw them.

    On the other hand, Silver Pines is reminiscent more of “Twin Peaks” and “Silent Hill 2” with their heavy, brooding atmospheres and detective-like dynamics. The game was created by a team of Nordic developers and is described on Steam as “a survival horror metroidvania set in small town America. Fight nightmarish terrors and solve puzzles, while carefully managing your scarce resources as you uncover the mysteries that could hold the key to redemption.” Silver Pines has been nominated for best horror game of the year, although 2026 is a tough year for competitive horror games, seeing as we began the year with the masterpiece that is Resident Evil Requiem.

    The Pull of the Unconscious

    Still from Silver Pines depicting the town’s Quiet Hour Cafe right before the storm and the wandering, emblectic white horse, as a symbol of death’s acceptance

    Both games have multiple endings and *spoiler alert* these are the aspects that I would like to unpack in this post which isn’t only about my sheer love for thoughtful horrors games but also about the psychological underpinnings of the protagonists’ stories, as they are revealted in their endings. And the endings revolve around an ex in one case and the past and the consequences of a man’s actions in another. These two themes are brought into foreground by the current and overlapping Mercury retrograde in Scorpio and Venus retrograde in Libra, helping collective energies to scavage through their romantic past.

    In Tenebris Somnia, Julia is persecuted by nightmares about her ex-boyfriend Ivan, and after failing to reach him she decides to use the apartment key she still was holding on to, in order to check up on him and see if he is alright. There are a number of red flags already at hand and I guess you can tell that one of the endings will involve Julia just looking at the key and deciding not to use it and not to check on her ex (which is exactly what I would’ve done, to be completely honest). I keep saying this to my clients that “an ex is an ex for a very good reason” but what would be the fun in listening to reason in a horror game, right?

    At the beginning of Tenebris Somnia, we are thrown into this kind of funny and slapstick, retro vintage gaming world, until the first real-action cut scene introduces us to a zombie-like creature who lunges at Julia with a forked tongue, and we are snapped into the brutal reality of the story. Julia seems eerily entranced throughout the game. She needs to find Ivan and find out what happened to him but she doesn’t know why she is doing this.

    In a similar vein, the detective of Silver Pines, Red Walker, has been hired by a mysterious man to find a musician named Eddie Velvet and as we later find out, is tasked with murdering him. Red is desperately searching for Velvet through the horrors of an abandoned town, soon to be besieged by a storm, without understanding exactly why he feels the compulsion to find this man. Both Red and Julia are gripped by their unconscious which pulls them to confront their fears, presented in each game as terrifying and creative-looking monsters.

    In the later parts of the game it becomes increasingly evident that Eddie and Red are the same man (watch as they share a fear of dogs, for example) and that Silver Pines is a projection of Red’s fractured psyche in the wake of an accident he had suffered which led to the death of his girlfriend. Red’s mysterious employer is the voice of his Ego, who drenched in self-hatred wants to keep him repressed and split off from finding the truth and awknowledging his guilt, at having caused the death of an innocent woman.

    In my view both of these fascinating characters, Julia and Red are symbols of the human Ego struggling to understand the unconscious. Often in our lives, we feel compelled or obsessed with certain activities or certain people without fully comprehending why. These are usually pivotal moments when important content from the unconscious wants to make itself known to our conscious mind in order for deep healing, somatic release and psychological growth to take place.

    Although, it needs to be said that such a quest, when undertaken with a view to fight and destroy the unconscious rather than to seek to understand it, will lead to the actual death or gradual psychic destruction of the person involved.

    And we see this theme of being overcome by nigredo (the darkening) or a retreat into psychological repression and fear, in both Julia’ s case in her Magnum Opus ending (where she kills the Relicta and fights Ivan only to obliterate her Shadow at his command), but also in the ending in which Red Walker finds Eddie Velvet and shoots him in the back, thereby completing his mission and never fully understanding the story he had been immersed in. Killing in both of these games carries the symbolic meaning of splitting apart, because after all, the greatest suffering happens in life when we separate parts of ourself and deny our whole being a right to exist freely. Splitting also happens when trauma occurs, which I will unpack below.

    Still of Red Walker in the town’s church right after a boss battle

    In these so-called ‘bad’ endings, Julia becomes afraid of the world and suspicious of every man as she retreats from her true Self and into the arms of her controlling and abusing ex-boyfriend, while Red continues to drive on endlessly into a night so dark that not even the moon can illuminate it. Both characters are doomed to remain in perpetual darkness, as nigredo extends indefinitely and cannot ascend to the clarity of the albedo stage or the warmth of the citrinitas/rubedo fulfillment, to use the alchemical words Jung has employed to describe the psychic development towards individuation.

    Haunting dreams seek our Attention

    Tenebris Somnia felt deeper and more meaningful as a story-line to me, because it dealt with domestic violence and I grew up with a controlling person who benefited from keeping me trapped and anxious. Therefore, I have intimate knowledge of how Julia must have felt in her relationship to Ivan, and empathized with her throughout the game. It was also fascinating to see that the so called ‘good ending of the game’ was titled ‘solve et coagula‘ (dissolve and coagulate), terms used by Carl Jung in his work on psychology and alchemy.

    In Tenebris Somnia, Julia’s journey can be seen as the process of solve et coagula which maps onto a woman’s quest for individuation through psychological transformation. In the bad ending (Magnum Opus), Julia slaughters her Relicta fragments with the Aurifer, a golden knife she creates through magic. Psychologically, killing is an act of violent psychic repression—she kills off parts of herself to survive, returning to reality permanently marked by her trauma (ex. the scar on her forehead remains but only in her mirrored reflection). In this version of her chosen reality, she remains bound to the archetype of her abuser, perpetuating the trauma cycle rather than escaping it.

    Still of Julia and Ivan from the Magnum Opus ending of Tenebris Somnia

    On the other hand, by choosing the Solve et Coagula ending, she allows the old, victimized Ego structure to dissolve completely (solve). By refusing to attack her Shadow, she stops treating her internal trauma as an external enemy (she pulls her projection back). The final merging with the collapsing nightmare (coagula) is a raw, terrifying depiction of assimilating her Shadow. She doesn’t escape her history, rather she internalizes it to become whole, and I especially liked how tender she was with her Shadow when she met herself in the final boss battle, a sign that she has learned to be compassionate with the hurtful things she has chosen for herself in the past.

    In the epilogue, Julia channels a newfound raw and integrated psychic energy into her creative life as a filmmaker. She films a short-movie and debuts it at a premiere. Her film-making style is clearly different than that of her ex, Ivan, whose somber film-making contributed to her nightmarish psychic journey. In contrast, Julia’s work is funny, colourful and humane, and we see this through the way that the audience reacts to her film. I have to admit this final scene brought happy tears to my eyes, because I was so proud of her!

    In the Magnum opus ending, I was struck by how violent the relicta of Ivan was when she confronts him in the end and we see the true rage monster that was hiding inside the man she loved. The violence of Ivan’s relicta is a profound clinical depiction of what Jung called an autonomous complex bursting into consciousness with primal fury. Because Julia had suppressed the reality of Ivan’s abuse, that psychic energy didn’t vanish—it weaponized itself in her unconscious. When it finally manifested, it unleashed raw, unmitigated rage which she then problematically, turned against her Shadow rather than towards escaping Ivan and letting him go.

    We know by now that there are two halves of Julia’s reality, influenced by her decisions throughout the game, something that is aptly mirrored by the game’s shift between pixel art and live-action video. In the standard loop or the Magnum Opus ending, Julia’s psychic defenses are working against her: terrified of the outside world, her ego projects the internal threat (the danger of being harmed or controlled) onto innocent men in the public (like that guy in the subway).

    Because the trauma of Ivan’s abuse is unresolved, her psyche perceives the entire world as hostile. Paralyzed by this projected fear, she runs back to Ivan’s apartment. In trauma bonds, the abuser becomes the “safe harbor” from the very terror they created. Psychologically, Julia trades the unpredictable threat of the unknown world, for the predictable, familiar torment of her abuser. It is a regressive retreat to the root of her complex.

    In the empowered conclusion or the Solve et Coagula ending, her psychological orientation undergoes a deep change. The difference in her behavior is a textbook example of an integrated Shadow. True bravery in Jungian terms is not the elimination of fear, nor is it turning into the aggressor. In the bad ending, she attacks her fragments, becoming the abuser in order to survive.

    In the good ending, her refusal to harm her captors (symbolising aspects of her Self) shows that she has broken the cycle of victimization. She no longer needs to use violent defense mechanisms. By facing the monsters without attacking them, she looks at her trauma directly. And in turn, this robs the autonomous complexes of their stealth power over her psyche.

    Complexes or fears lose their terrifying grip on her because they are no longer hidden in the dark—they are acknowledged components of her history. By the end, she isn’t running back to the ruined apartment. She can exist in the live-action, objective world because she is no longer projecting her inner monsters onto random people around her. The outside world ceases to be a house of horrors the moment she cleanses her inner house.

    Still of retro Julia battling Vitria through a mirror, a symbol of how she is desperately trying to integrate aspects of her Shadow but faces immense resistance from her Ego

    I liked how vulnerable she was being depicted during the premiere of her short film. We could see and feel her anxiety and her compulsion to project this anxiety on the public, like she would’ve done in the past, when her anxieties held her back and pushed her into a connection with a dominant and controlling man (Ivan). But she took a deep breath and held the tension and then suddenly the situation changed. The crowd started laughing because of the funny actor in her short film. All her worries of being perceived in a negative way or criticised by others were dispelled when her creative work touched the public.

    There was an immediate collective release of tension which was mirroring her own personal breakthrough: instead of falling into a past pattern, Julia stood her ground just by breathing, she held her anxiety and was brave enough to show up at her premiere and just see what happen. It shows that in time, through such repeated experiences, she will become a very strong woman, capable of controlling her own life (like a director) instead of projecting her control onto a domineering lover who may abuse her. This was the exact moment of Jung’s transcendent function manifesting in waking life, rather than just in her dreams or the pixelated unconscious of the game.

    What Julia is experiencing during the premiere of her short film is the shift from an unconscious compulsion to repeat the trauma loop to the conscious endurance of the “crucible.” Sometimes, to truly heal we need to hold and stay strong among uncomfortable feelings. In Jungian analysis, growth rarely looks like the permanent erasure of anxiety, rather it is a change in our relationship to that anxiety. We don’t get rid of our feelings, we transform them.

    In alchemy, this is maintaining the heat of a vessel without letting it crack. She allows the anxiety to exist within her body without reacting to it or offloading it onto others.Because Julia holds her internal tension, she creates the psychological space for reality to surprise her. By enduring these moments, Julia transitions from a passive actor trapped in Ivan’s abusive, black-and-white film to the author and director of her own and colourful psychic reality. This is a process that takes time and repetition. Each time she stands her ground in the face of her anxiety without retreating into the arms of a controller, she strengthens the new Ego she is carefully building for herself. She transforms her vulnerability from a liability into the very wellspring of her creative sovereignty.

    Image depicting the alchemical vessel of containment, which can hold opposing forces (such as masculinity and femininity) with the purpose of transforming the soul

    Learning from THESE GAMES For Future ThErapeutic Work

    As a training analyst, I kept wondering what would I do in such a case, if a patient like Red Walker or Julia walks into my office? I was especially stuck at that scene of Julia’s premiere and marvelled at her subtle growth. I guess that when I would observe patients reaching this “premiere” stage in their own lives—where they face the terrifying choice between an old, toxic coping mechanism and a brave new path—I would think about what kind of clinical containment or support I could enact to help them hold that tension without collapsing back into the past.

    Since a patient has reached this advanced stage in their therapy, I don’t believe a maternal-like containment is necessary as this would be more appropriate for someone who is still possessed by a complex, but Julia emerged outside of it and may now need just some gentle nudging in the direction of courageous decisions. So I would offer her validating compliments based on her decisions to show up and hold the anxiety and I would continue to re-affirm the necessity of maintaing a strong connection to reality and to understand that she doesn’t have to be perfect, she just needs to be present and continue with the good work she is already doing.

    In my view, I would shift from the maternal, containing matrix (necessary for holding a fractured Ego together) to the paternal/transformative function of encouraging the ego to step out into the world with agency. After all, over-containing a patient at Julia’s stage can accidentally infantilize them or mirror the very dependency they are trying to escape. By offering validating compliments and focusing on presence over perfection,I can act as a steady witness to her emergent strength rather than a protector she must lean on.

    With universal love,

    Lexi

  • The Better Angels of Our Nature

    Meeting a fallen angel in the Pale Clearing in the 2026 game “Welcome to Elderfield” by Chris Cote

    reconnecting to the source-ground of our feeling responses means reconnecting to the inner soul-child who has been cut off in a ‘psychic retreat’ and this constitutes an ensouling of the personality (…) in working through early trauma and its archetypal defenses we are in effect slowly freeing the – powers of the collective unconscious from the dark “fallen” roles as dismembering demons to play their larger life-enhancing role as the integrative life-restoring ‘better angels of our nature’” – p. 124, Kalsched, 2013

    I read last week Donald Kalsched’s second important book on trauma aptly titled “Trauma and the Soul: A psycho-spiritual approach to human development and its interruption” (2013), and like his first book it left a mark on me and I am now feeling slightly haunted by some of its content. This second book feels more dialectic than Kalsched’s previous work “The Inner World of Trauma” (1996) which I read back in April of this year during a difficult Easter in which I relapsed into depression, saved only by painting and retreating into Kalsched’s book. I think this second book expands on his core thesis that trauma generates a system of self-care which keeps us alive even during difficult life circumstances.

    Kalsched takes that notion and expands on it, showing how that very system can often backfire in keeping a traumatized person away from connecting to the world and other people. In this way, what seems like a protection mechanism can easily turn into a personal hell riddled with demons and monsters, further pushing the individual away from real living and connections. As such, the Inner Protector becomes the Inner Persecutor, keeping its willing ‘victim’ away from real love, intimacy and the comfort of human connections, but also keeping the pain, mistrust, lies and betrayal which normally exist in human relationships, safely away from the wounded person.

    The seductive dream world offers its inhabitant a uni-dimensional experience of life and it can be imagined as whispering: “I’ll keep you safe as long as you don’t connect to someone real and actually begin to live life again”. If the power dynamic is reversed, and through therapy the willing victim begins to recover and take control of their life, and healing is proceeding full-steam ahead, that’s when the self-care system can turn ‘evil’ and begin to trap the traumatized person into cycles of pain and self-sabotage.

    No one but Kalsched warned me about the powerful ‘latch on’ effect that the so-called cozy dream world has on the psyche, and how what can begin as a powerfully protective and safe inner paradise can suddenly turn dark and foreboding at the slightest hint of recovery and freedom. In relation to this system that wants to keep you all for itself, this song by the National popped up in my mind as I was writing these words:

    I liked how throughout the book, Kalsched contrasted his Jungian approach to trauma with Dante Alighieri’s “Inferno” (the first book in his Divine Comedy trilogy, and one which I randomly purchased when I was about 15 years old) and also with Antoine de Saint Exupery’s “The Little Prince”. I’m more of a fan of Dante’s than St Exupery’s work, because for whatever reason I just couldn’t resonate as a child with the story of a prince on the moon taking care of his rose…it felt embarrassing to my little girl’s mind, and it still does to this day. Nonetheless, Kalsched links the Devil in the final circle of Hell, described by Dante as Dis (the roman God of the underworld, also known as Pluto) with the mechanism that lies of the root of all trauma and that is dissociation. To bring things into perspective he also sees the little prince as a symbol of the lost innocence of a person’s soul which happens as a consequence of trauma in the process of dissociation.

    Trauma and especially relationship trauma can “scare” the soul away from the body, and through strategies of staying somehow alive, such as dissociation, life continues on, but with the loss of the soul of the wounded individual. Traumatized people are “weird” because they no longer live in reality, they cannot bear the pain and suffering of relating as their soul escaped into a different world, one in which angels can become demons. He analyses this world by comparing it to Dante’s Inferno, and explores the Little Prince as an attempt of the human soul to regain its lost innocence before the trauma happened, to keep a vital spark that made life worth living.

    For many traumatized people, the pain they experienced in reality becomes in their inner world, the image of an internal Persecutor/Protector, a jailer who offers them safety in exchange for a solitary existence. Initially, this system of self-care appears in the form of angels and protective ancestral influences, benevolent beings who keep a person alive and grants them some sort of meaning, solid enough to keep them living against the odds. But through repeated attempts to relate to others in reality and then being disappointed (and in some cases re-traumatized by others) a traumatized person’s system of self-care can gradually change shape and turn from an inner paradise into a living hell, populated with curses, monsters, punishments and pain. Sometimes this becomes the Devouring Anima for men & the Sadistic Animus for women, and often this is expressed on the outside, in the real world as acts of self-sabotage and mental health symptoms. The patient begins to wrestle with the angel.

    Coming back to the larger perspective of Kalsched’s beautiful book I was really fascinated by the fact that he adopts a “psycho-spiritual approach”, which I am all about! Partly this may be the reason why I resonate so much with his writings. There is also an astrological reason why I am so drawn and uplifted by his work and that is because we are compatible signs, as I’m a Pisces Sun and Donald is a Capricorn Sun, so Water meets Earth in harmony, and on top of this his Sun touches upon my natal Neptune in Capricorn in the 3rd house. His work (the Sun) literally brings a spiritual approach (Neptune) to the working of my mind (3rd house).

    An image generated with Gemini of the planet Neptune and the sign of Capricorn

    I especially enjoyed his discussion of the two realms of existence: the real, material world and the spiritual, imaginary world in which people sometimes (and trauma survivors, often) escape into. Donald Kalsched believes a well-lived and healthy life is experienced in the middle part, on the bridge between these two worlds, where our bodies can become en-souled & feel alive enough to extract meaning from the spiritual and make things tangible in the practical. He offers the autobiography of Jung as an example of such a bridged life, where the analyst had to contain many times opposing forces within himself in order to expand his consciousness and reach “aha” moments of mental relief.

    Kalsched underlines that only by accepting human suffering can the soul of the traumatized person come back to the body, and make it feel alive again. In this process, the role of the therapist (linked in the book to the image of the poet Virgil who accompanies Dante on his journey through hell, limbo and heaven) bears a great responsibility. A receptive therapist may be in certain circumstances the last good link to reality or stable anchor that a traumatized patient may have with the real world. A therapist begins to assist the patient in this struggle with the angel, to experience the beauty of the liminal space again and not to escape into the imaginary world, or remain strictly in material reality. As Kalsched clarifies:

    “(…) it is a relationship that heals the trauma. But not just any relationship. The kind of relationship that makes a difference is the kind of transformative relationship actualized in the best contemporary psychotherapy (…). Such a relationship will have one eye open, looking outward and one eye closed, looking inward. Such a relationship will re-open both intersubjective & mytho-poetic space. It will “awaken the dreamer” in the patient. – p. 20,

    And also:

    there is a simple acceptance of the human condition, made possible by the previous long journey with a witnessing partner” – p. 125, Kalsched, 2013

    While I was reading Kalsched’s book in the evening, I was also playing games in the morning (I like to face the day with a strong cup of coffee and some minutes of gaming to wake up my brain). And lately I can’t get enough of the Eldritch-inspired horror farming game Welcome to Elderfield created by Chris Cote and released on Steam at the beginning of this month. In the game, among many horrible things that your character has to go through and fight, there is one that stood out to me, probably because it stimulated my unconscious concerns. There is a fallen angel that you come across at some point in the creepy Old Woods. This Angel resides in the Pale Clearing, a mystical, white, puffy place that sits in sharp contract to the jagged, rough, cumbersome decor of the rest of the frightening woods. Even the amazing soundtrack of the game disintegrates and loops ominously when you meet the fallen angel. You talk to the creature and it tells you that it once had a soul (it felt alive) but due to having fallen (the traumatic event) it remained isolated (hasn’t seen a living soul in ages) and is now hungry (blocked psychic energy that needs to be expressed).

    Screen-capture from the game Welcome to Elderfield

    The Angel is ravenous and the only thing that may satiate its hunger is a living soul, either yours or the unfortunate one you may trap in one of your adventures. So, I caught such a living soul as a loot drop after I destroyed a Chest Mimic, and offered it to the angel to see what happens. Will my offer redeem the fallen creature? Well no, I was naive. The Angel devoured the soul in nano-seconds, accompanied by a very graphic description of the act. But then again, I am playing a horror game, so shit like this was naturally going to happen. What was I thinking? 🙂

    In the Bible, we are told that fallen angels are demons even if they present themselves by their names before the fall, they become as such mirages of evil. However, Tammy Montgomery in her book “The Angel in Annunciation and Synchronicity:Knowledge and Belief in Carl Jung” believes that the dark, fallen or somber angel can have curative properties at the same time as it delivers scary messages, as she explains:

    The presence of the somber angel, then, does not signify the presence of evil. Instead, it signals the conveyance of sobering information or insight into what once lay hidden (…) the process by which these dark contents come to light is often dreadful, painful, and inescapable. – p, 103, Montgomery, 2013

    So, the fallen angel can be seen as an aspect of the Shadow energy at work in my life, and this is what this moment in the game left such a strong impression on me. And hoards of fallen angels or a general interest in demons and demonology could be indicative of the Shadow aspect of our collective unconscious, asking for some sort of light and interpretative redemption, like the ‘fallen angels’ in our celebrity worship.

    Reading Kalsched’s text in parallel with playing this game jumpstarted my brain and something became illuminated. Trying to understand how the self-care system ‘s personal protection mechanism of keeping a victim trapped inside of themselves in a world filled with so-called angels, helped me see how emotionally attached I too had been in the past with this sugary, stereotypical understanding of divinity as purely “love and light”. In reality, the true presence of God exists in every rushed decision, act of self-sabotage or hellish day. As the zen master Thich Nhat Hanh said at some point ‘no mud, no lotus’. So beware the presence of paradise for it could contain more evil than obvious evil could actually engender.

    This is why I believe women are so drawn in our current landscape to romance-fantasy books in which they make love to monsters. Because a monster can show you who he really is from the beginning, while an evil prince charming first has to deceive you and then destroy you. And it is the deception that amplifies the trauma. But more on this in another post…

    I’m told by a quick Google search that the phrase “the better angels of our nature” was coined by Abraham Lincoln desperately trying to avoid a civil war and it was a call to solidarity and compassion during a period of division (The Dis in Dante’s Hell running amok in the nascent American collective unconscious). For Jung the main problem of the 20th century was the problem of the human soul, and the continuous pressure it has to withstand to remain whole and not be broken into two sides: the deeply materialistic one or the completely spiritual one. He believed mental health lies in the liminal space between the two, on the psychic bridge which would lead a person to moments of tension followed by moments of growth and then consciousness expansion.

    Jung had Saturn in Aquarius and because he was a visionary he could pre-empt the movements of the psyche under the guidance of the planet Uranus, the very same movements which are transforming society during this decade and the next under Pluto’s transit through innovative Aquarius.

    I was struck after finishing Kalsched’s book on the story of how the soul can be lost due to trauma by sinking into the depths of a profound depression or it can be invaded by anxiety, two very common mental health concerns during a time in which we have collectively lost our faith in a Higher Power. I don’t think there’s a coincidence that as God is no longer worshipped, individual psychic content is emerging as sheer madness out on the streets and on social media. My teacher, Mihaela Minulescu discusses how the human psyche has a symbolising function and a dia-bolising function: the first one helps brings thing into union, into a cohesive whole, while the latter severs, cuts, separates. It is the psychic equivalent of “the devil” within us all. The one who comes out when we choose to struggle with the angel, as we lose hope in life, ourselves and other people.

    But the unconscious is always concerned with our adaptation to the social world around us and it will continue to send us dreams, moods, symptoms, synchronicities and will pull us into people who can help us in our healing journey. The important thing is that we stay open to it all, so that life can work through us rather than leave us. Communicating and checking in with one’s soul is as vital as brushing teeth, and can be part of the everyday hygiene of life. By having this constant inner dialogue with our spiritual nature then maybe we can bring some magic into our surrounding reality or at least enjoy and notice the magic that already exists in plain sight.

    With universal love,

    Lexi