I’ve sat by many fires. I’ve watched the flames dance through seasons, through stories, through silence. And this question—is change even real?—feels like one of those sacred logs we toss on the coals, not to find an answer, but to let it burn and teach us something deeper.

If everything that is, always is… then what do we mean when we talk about change? Is it movement? Is it remembering? Is it simply a shifting of attention across the vast landscape of what already exists?

Let me put it another way.

If we truly always have everything we need, then we didn’t gain more access by growing up, healing trauma, or drinking the medicine. We didn’t become more whole—we just came to remember what was always true. Even on the day we were born—bare, breath-filled, vulnerable—we had access to the entire blueprint. The same access. The same presence. The same divinity. No less sacred. No less complete.

So when we say we are “healing,” what is it we’re really doing?

From the way I’ve come to understand it, healing isn’t about fixing what’s broken. It’s not about becoming something more. It’s about softening the illusion that we were ever lacking in the first place. It’s a return, not a repair.

Because if we are truly made in the image of the Creator, then we were never not whole.

So what is illness? What is suffering?

They’re real. Yes. Felt deeply. And they deserve compassion, attention, presence. But they are also—like everything—just one note in the great chord. One point of focus on the spectrum of infinite being. Just like wholeness, illness exists in the field. But so does health. So does joy. So does peace. At all times. Always accessible. Always waiting.

So maybe the real bridge we cross isn’t from sickness to health, but from fragmentation back into remembrance. From resistance to resonance. From contraction into coherence.

And maybe that shift—the one we call healing—is really just a reorientation of attention.

You point your awareness toward pain, and pain becomes your teacher. You point it toward gratitude, and suddenly, you realize you’ve been carried the whole time. You point it toward wholeness, and healing happens—not because you weren’t whole before, but because you finally saw it.

Now, here’s where the mind might twist a bit.

If all exists simultaneously, and time is non-linear, then sickness and health both exist, right now. Which means healing isn’t about destroying sickness—it’s about choosing the vibration of wellness. And that doesn’t negate the pain. It simply expands the field so we’re no longer trapped by it.

This is what the plants have taught me. Ayahuasca. Huachuma. Noya Rao. They don’t “fix” you. They reveal you. They pull back the veil, not to show you something new, but to remind you what’s been true all along.

And in that remembering, transformation happens.

So, back to the question: Is change even real?

Yes… and no.

What changes is where we stand in the river. The river itself, eternal. The current, already flowing. We don’t create the flow—we just decide when we’re ready to step in. When we’re ready to feel it.

So wherever you are, beloved… you are not behind. You are not broken. You are not too late. You are in the dance already.

And if you listen closely, you might hear your soul whisper:

"You were never not whole."