Beloved ones,
I am Jeshua.
Today I come to you with the sweetness of one who knows your innermost being,
And with the strength of one who sees your light trapped in structures that have nothing to do with the living truth of who you are.
Let us speak of something that weighs heavily on many hearts,
Though few dare to name it,
The routine that strangles the soul,
The breath that becomes a prison,
The repetition that dulls the sacred fire of life.
Oh,
How much silent suffering is born when the soul is forced to follow the same furrows again and again,
Furrows carved not by love,
But by fear,
By habit,
By expectation,
By repetition without heart.
Routine,
In itself,
Is not the enemy.
What suffocates is the lack of presence in what we repeat.
A daily act,
When lived from the soul and celebrated as sacred,
Can shine with light.
It can even set us free.
But when that same act is done out of dead duty,
Mechanical obligation,
Or the inertia of a life unquestioned,
It becomes an invisible shackle,
One that tightens a little more each day,
So subtly that you barely notice,
Until one day you realize you can no longer breathe.
You've been taught,
Generation after generation,
To see routine as a sign of order,
Of responsibility,
Even of virtue.
They told you that a good person is someone who keeps a schedule,
Who plays their part,
Who does what is expected without complaint.
And many of you have internalized this idea so deeply that you even feel guilty when you long to break that chain.
You ask yourself,
What if I leave this job?
What if I change everything?
What if,
Just for today,
I don't do what I always do?
And fear,
Wearing the mask of prudence,
Answers,
No,
Better not.
Don't take risks,
Stability is worth more than life itself.
But stability without soul is death dressed up as safety.
So I ask you,
Where is the life in what you repeat?
Where is the sacred breath in that alarm clock that screams at the same hour each morning?
Where is the spirit in that automatic path you walk toward tasks that no longer resonate with you?
Where is the presence in those hollow greetings,
In those meals without gratitude,
In those words you say on autopilot,
Echoing from nowhere?
If your days pass without even a single spark of truth,
A single act born from the heart,
A single moment of communion with your deepest self,
Then you are not living.
You are merely surviving.
And beloved soul,
You did not come here to survive.
You came to remember who you are.
You came to embody love.
You came to dance the unique rhythm that lives only in your heart,
Your soul,
Your unrepeatable song.
But that song fades when the soul is forced,
Day after day,
To repeat what no longer vibrates with it,
What no longer brings joy,
What no longer feels true.
Routine steals your breath like a jealous lover.
At first it seems to offer structure,
Support,
Meaning.
But little by little,
It dims your luminous gaze,
Crushes your creative impulse,
Robs your time for silence,
Silences your laughter,
Your spontaneity,
Your desire to explore.
It turns you into a cog in a soulless machine,
A machine that promises stability while draining you of yourself.
Do you know why you feel that deep tiredness that no amount of sleep can ease?
It's not your body that's exhausted.
It's your soul that's gasping for air.
Your essence cries out for space,
For beauty,
For surprise,
For truth.
And truth is rarely found in the repeated paths of a copy-paste day.
Truth is alive.
And what is alive does not repeat mechanically.
What is alive breathes,
Transforms,
Pulses.
Yet many of you fear breaking the routine because you have mistaken it for who you are.
You think you are that person who wakes up at a certain time,
Fulfills a certain role,
Performs certain tasks.
But you have forgotten that before all of this,
You are a free consciousness,
A child of the One.
You are not your habits nor your calendar.
You are the being who can choose again,
Every day,
Every moment.
True freedom doesn't begin when you abandon everything.
It begins when you show up,
Fully present in whatever you are doing.
If you work,
Do it with awareness.
If you cook,
Let every step be sacred.
If you walk,
Let your steps become a prayer.
And if what you do no longer aligns with who you are,
Have the courage to ask yourself,
What do I truly want now?
What is life asking of me today?
Where is my soul gently leading me,
Even if only in a whisper?
Don't be afraid of change.
Be more afraid of dead activity disguised as order.
Be afraid of living a life that doesn't belong to you.
Of repeating a story that no longer has a heartbeat.
Of reaching the end of your days and realizing you never truly lived.
You only followed someone else's script.
But let it be a sacred fear,
The kind that awakens you.
I'm not asking you to destroy everything you've built.
I invite you to observe yourself with honesty.
To listen without filters.
To allow moments of stillness in which you can feel,
Is my life nourishing me?
Or only dragging me along?
Ask yourself,
Am I becoming more of who I am each day?
Or am I slowly drifting away from my true self?
And if you discover that the routine is quietly killing you,
Then meet yourself with compassion.
And summon the bravery to change.
Because you can always choose again.
You can always return to your center.
You can always release what no longer serves.
Even if they told you it was the right thing.
You can always take a deep breath and say,
Today I choose to live from the soul.
And in that moment,
Routine is transformed.
It becomes presence.
Because it's not the action itself that wounds.
It's the forgetting of the one who acts.
Beloveds,
Your soul was not made to be chained.
It came here to unfold its wings.
And if today you feel those wings are still,
Ask yourself,
What is tying them down?
Do not blame yourself for falling asleep.
This world taught you to sleep.
But now,
You remember.
And that memory is your power.
Use it.
Breathe it in.
Let every instant become a sacred act.
Or have the courage to stop doing it.
I am with you.
Always.
In the pause that brings meaning.
In the fire that rises again.
In the tear that falls without reason.
In the whisper of your soul that says,
There is more.
Don't settle for less.
You are not children of resignation.
You are heirs of the living spirit.
And that spirit does not shrink into routine.
It dances.
It sings.
It creates.
It loves.
And it is joyfully waiting for your return.
With all my love,
I am Jeshua.
And I live in you.
