Channeling vs. Forcing: Returning to Clarity and Spirit

There’s a tightness in my chest when I’m forcing something into being. A pressure in my head. I can feel the overthinking and overdoing of it all—the way it drags me out of harmony with the natural song of being.

It’s like trying to run uphill through sand. Frustration builds with every step, and even if I’ve placed myself there unconsciously, I know I’m the one straining to make it all happen. The pressure grows, and so does the noise.

Inside, it’s a mess of voices:
“C’mon, think. Let’s go. Do it. Be smart. C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!”
Critics yelling at and over each other.
“No, like this!” “No, like that!”

This inner cacophony eats up all the bandwidth I need to actually listen. And without listening, there’s no clarity. No connection. No spirit. Just a looming deadline and a rising sense of chaos that becomes a full-blown maelstrom.

But then—there’s the shift.

From forcing to channeling.
From doing to being.
From pressure to presence.

And all it takes is a breath.

A simple, intentional breath—just in, and out—is often enough to create the silence that stops the freight train of doing from ever leaving the station.

In that silence, I remember:
Whatever I’m about to create deserves my full presence.
It deserves my attention.
It deserves my connection to spirit.

Because anything forced… will be felt.
And what is forced disconnects.

If I’ve gotten too far, if breath alone doesn’t call me back, I pause everything. I shut off the music. I light incense. I sit.

I sit long enough for the noise to fall away.
Long enough to return to my highest, truest self.
Long enough to become nothing again—just being.

And from that stillness, the clarity comes.
The current returns.
The channel opens.

Because channeling feels like the flow of a river down a mountain—in whatever way it wants to go today. It feels like freedom. Freedom to breathe. To pause. To trust that I’ll arrive exactly where I need to be, without effort.

The truth I hold now is this:

When I am still, clear, and connected, whatever needs to be created will be created—exactly when and how it needs to be created.

I surrender to that as often as I need to, even if nothing ends up being made. That too is part of my process. My unfolding.

And if you’ve ever felt the pressure, the noise, the chaos—I want you to know:
There is a release valve.
An off switch.
A reset button.

It is here, now, in your breath.
You can return in this very moment.

Thanks for being here, thank you for being you. More reflections to come.