Today’s offering is a song I wrote for the spaces we stopped listening to…

“The Silence We Forgot.” Not silence as absence. But silence as presence. The kind that holds you steady when the world spins too fast.

This is a song for what the world still needs and maybe, what you’ve been needing too. There’s a kind of stillness we don’t really recognize anymore. Not the awkward kind. Not the kind that follows tension. The kind that holds truth without needing to explain itself. The kind that steadies you. The kind that remembers you.

That’s the kind of silence this song is about. “The Silence We Forgot” doesn’t ask for volume. It just lingers…soft, steady, and true. It’s the one you stumble across at 2AM when everything else feels too fake to hold. It doesn’t press itself on you. It just makes room… and waits.

I wanted to write something that felt like exhaling. Like being alone and finally okay with it. Like quiet that calms you instead of scaring you. Something that holds still in a world always asking for more. The words showed up slow. No pressure. Just enough for the moment. Some things aren’t meant to make sense right away they just need room to breathe.

🎧 Why This Song Sounds Different

I leaned into lofi textures and neo-soul warmth, but I asked the music to do more than sound good I asked it to feel sacred.

The female vocals are layered with old-school R&B harmonies that feel like ancestors humming behind you. And the string transitions? They were designed to feel like shifts in the wind… subtle but undeniable.

This was about showing up. For the version of the world we’ve been too busy to listen to.

⏱️ How Music Creation Is Changing And Why That Matters

We’re in a time where music is shifting…fast. Songs are being made quicker than ever. Tools are smarter. Platforms are louder. We’ve started measuring our lives by refresh buttons. And I get it. In a world where attention spans are thinning and fast gets more applause than true, it’s easy to think you need to rush just to stay seen. But here’s the thing: Faster doesn’t always mean deeper. It’s like building a house with power tools but forgetting to check the foundation. It might go up quick but will it hold during the storm?

Don’t get me wrong there’s beauty in evolution. The fact that people can create music from their laptops, their phones, even from their bedrooms with no studio, no label, no middleman? That’s powerful and liberating. And highly revolutionary.

But even as music gets quicker to make… We can’t lose what makes it matter. Not everything beautiful is built in a hurry. Some songs need time to simmer. Certain truths don’t land until everything else stops. We’re not just making songs. Every word we speak is a key. Transmissions. Tiny time capsules that hold memory, feeling, and breath.

So while the world speeds up, I’m learning to slow down on purpose. To let the music breathe. To give the soul room to speak without being rushed. This song isn’t resisting change it’s offering balance. A rhythm that doesn’t rush. A song that doesn’t compete, just connects.

🎼 Where Music Comes From and Why It Still Matters

Before we had language, we had rhythm. Before we had theology, we had vibration. Before we named the divine, we heard it in wind, in heartbeats, in humming voices around fires.

Music isn’t a product. It’s memory. It’s transmission. It’s the soul speaking in a language the mind can’t interrupt. It isn’t just sound, it’s spiritual muscle memory. It’s how the earth keeps time. It’s the pulse beneath all things. We talk about music like it’s entertainment. But it’s older than that. It’s infrastructure. Unseen hands holding the structure while your spirit rewires. A tuning fork for the human experience.

We need music, not just to feel better but to remember who we are. That’s why music keeps finding us, no matter how fast the world spins. It’s what keeps the planet dancing even when hearts are heavy. It’s what gives grief a melody, hope a beat, and love a place to live when words give out.

Music makes the world go ‘round…literally. Its vibration is part of how creation holds itself together. So when a song like this whispers to you in the quiet… It’s not just a track. It’s a remembering.

🌍 What the World Needs Right Now

There’s already too much sound. What we’re missing is meaning. We need more music that makes people feel something real. This song is my offering. To the healers who are tired. To the dreamers who don’t feel heard. For the ones who forgot to look up you’re allowed to pause. You’re allowed to re-enter your life. Maybe stillness is the new rebellion. Maybe reverence is the new revolution. If you’ve been moving fast for too long…

If your spirit’s been craving something it can’t quite name… This song is for you. To remind you of what you already carry. Peace. Quiet wisdom. Voice. And yes… silence. The holy kind.

Like morning fog… slowly lifting.

May the wisdom within guide you, the freedom within carry you, and the love within remind you….it is already done!

—Renee’

Fuel The Frequency

“Energy Is Expensive….But So Are You“

How Energy Flow Became the Real Currency I Had to Learn to Trust

Somewhere along the way, I got the message that wealth was out there … a vault I didn’t own. A “yes” I couldn’t reach. Hands that weren’t meant to hold my work. I kept thinking it showed up as numbers, approval, timing, and green lights.

And I believed it… Until I started noticing something. There were days I had nothing in the bank but still felt full. And other days, even with help, support, or small wins… I felt like I was drowning. That’s when I started looking at what no one teaches us to measure: How energy moves, or doesn’t, through the body.

What Even Is Wealth?

If we stripped away all the outer layers No job title, no paycheck, no applause, no gold star…what are we left with? For me, the answer didn’t shout. It arrived steady, like it already knew I’d listen. Wealth is how freely life can move through me.

Not the goal I kept aiming at, but what I’m able to feel, hold, and circulate. It’s clarity. Peace. Breath. Joy. Safety. Truth. Creativity. It’s noticing that when good things happen, my body doesn’t react like a threat. When I have space to move…

To choose…

To be honest…

To rest…

That’s when I feel rich. Even if the outside hasn’t caught up yet. What Does It Mean That Energy Is Currency? Let’s get to the point. Currency means flow. Movement. Circulation. Money matters because it moves. So does blood. So does water. So does electricity. Energy works the same way. It’s what life moves in long before the check clears, the call comes, or the door opens. Our body is the channel.

When the current flows freely, we feel alive, clear, creative. When it doesn’t, we shut down, freeze, react, or forget who we are. That’s what people mean when they say energy is currency. It’s not just a metaphor…it’s literal. If nothing’s moving, nothing’s multiplying.

Electricity Helped Me Understand

Imagine your body like a house. Energy is the current. The wiring. The signal. The spark. If everything’s working, the lights glow, the stove heats, the music plays. But if the wiring’s a mess, overloaded, or shut off? The lights flicker. The heat’s uneven. The house feels tense. It doesn’t matter how beautiful the furniture is. If the power’s not flowing right, the house doesn’t function.

That’s how I’ve felt in misaligned seasons. Still showing up. Still going through the motions. But inside? Flickering. Glitching. Trying to stay lit on a system that’s shorting out. When Energy Stops Circulating, I Feel It The longer I ignore the tension, the heavier it gets. It builds up as overthinking, hesitation, fatigue without explanation, frustration without words. It shows up as that weird invisible wall between me and what I say I want. It’s not just emotional…it’s electrical. And that means it can shift. But not by muscling through. Not by playing it cool. Not by denying what’s real.

What Energy as Currency Actually Looks Like

It’s not mystical. It’s practical. Joy flows when I let myself laugh, sing, or move without guilt and stalls when I hold tension to look “okay.” Truth flows when I speak honestly, even awkwardly and stalls when I stay silent just to keep the peace. Time moves when I use it to feed my spirit and it freezes when I spend it trying to earn my place. Rest shows up when I stop judging myself for needing it and it shuts down when I’m grinding for a sense of value. Creativity flows when I share what’s real, even if imperfect and stalls when I wait to be polished or “valuable.”

In every one of these, movement is richness. Even when money hasn’t arrived, I know I’m circulating something alive. And when that flow stops? Even the best opportunities can pass by because I’m not open to receive them.

Circulation Is Multiplication

This part says a lot:

The more I let energy move through me, the more life moves toward me. Like blood doing its quiet work in the body. Breath easing in and out of the lungs. Money making its rounds through a town. Water moving through a waiting pipe. If it’s moving, it’s alive. If it’s trapped, it becomes pressure. And pressure blocks access.

I don’t have to convince anyone to show up. I just have to be open enough to let it land. That’s a different kind of work. When Things Feel Tight

Right now, I’m still in a space that doesn’t feel aligned. Still in a setting that drains more than it restores. Still needing wealth to shift it, but needing energy to call in that wealth. Some days, it feels like standing between two locked doors. But I’ve stopped calling that “stuck.” I’ve started calling it a recalibration. A pause between who I’ve had to be and who I’m becoming.

The vault might not be locked at all. It could just be waiting for a softer approach. It might not be about strain. It could be about allowing things to move. So I’m starting small… letting just one thing move:

A breath. A thought. A piece of truth. A song. A shift in posture. A quiet “no” or a brave “yes.”

Movement invites energy. Energy invites flow. Flow invites wealth. Not always in that order… but always in that spirit.

5 Small Ways I Support My Flow (Even in Uncertainty)

I breathe like it mattersGolden light in. Old pressure out. Even one round is circulation.

I speak my truth out loud, even if it’s just to the air“My field deserves peace.”“My light is still valuable even here.”

I move something, anythingMy body. My pen. My voice.Movement is wealth in motion.

I say soft yesesTo warmth. Music. Silence. Laughter.Tiny yeses rebuild trust.

I trust that flow, not pressure, is what opens doorsEven if it takes longer.Even if no one sees it yet.

The Vault Isn’t Lost… It’s Us

This part came through the still space where truth hides. I don’t need to be anywhere else to start circulating my light. Even in tight rooms. Even in transition. Even before the money shows up. I’m the field. I’m the currency. I’m the space where the spark begins again. I’m not without energy. I’m carrying voltage. Waiting doesn’t disqualify me. It’s teaching me how to hold wealth differently now from the inside out.

I trust that somehow, that’s already enough. Peace isn’t a luxury. It’s a resource. And when it’s disrupted long enough, money dries up. Not because you’re not working hard enough. Not because you’re not talented enough. Not because you’re not deserving enough. But because your energy can’t circulate.

You can’t manifest from survival. You can’t multiply what you can’t even feel. When you’re constantly bracing yourself… for tension, for chaos, for someone else’s mood swinging through the walls… you get stuck in energetic lockdown. And from there, nothing flows. Not creativity. Not clarity. Not cash. Because wealth isn’t just math. It’s a rhythm. It moves best when there’s room, when there’s breathing space, when the body feels safe enough to receive.

So if you’ve been trying everything… affirmations, strategy, effort… and nothing’s moving? Pause. Ask yourself: Do I feel safe here? Not just physically, but energetically. Because if you’re constantly managing your environment, your nervous system is too busy surviving to receive.

How do you escape that?

Sometimes the escape is literal…stepping out, walking away, moving on. Sometimes it’s internal…learning how to create pockets of peace in the chaos until the door opens. But either way, the key is reclaiming your circulation. Movement creates movement. Peace creates possibility.

How Do You Embody It?

You let yourself take up space. You see your sensitivity as a signal, not a weakness. You stop forcing growth in soil that doesn’t support you. You don’t have to wait for a perfect life to let peace in. You let it in now. In the breath. In the silence. In the way you speak to yourself when no one’s listening.

And then… Your energy returns. Your flow begins again. And everything that felt impossible starts moving toward you…because now, you have room to hold it.

If this episode stirred something in you… If you’re starting to see wealth not just as money, but as movement, rhythm, and presence in your body then I want to invite you even deeper. There’s a blog I released before this podcast that goes hand in hand with this episode. It’s called “Sensuality Is a Form of Protection” and it’s an excerpt from my upcoming book Sovereign Touch: The Art of Intimate Self-Love and Energy Protection.

It’s not just about sensuality. It’s about reclaiming your energy, your nervous system, your breath. It’s about restoring the very rhythm that wealth flows through. It’s also paired with a song called “Say Less”…a soft, intimate track that was written to let your body exhale again.

So if you’re listening and you want to live this truth not just think about it… go read the blog. Let the song play through your speakers. Let it touch something honest in you. You’re not the obstacle. You’re the access point. And your peace is the real exchange.

May the wisdom within guide you, the freedom within carry you, and the love within remind you….it is already done!

—Renee’

**Song Attached- A smooth Lofi Instrumental called “Open Circuit” (Unreleased)

Fuel The Frequency

This isn’t about one moment. It’s about something that hit deep enough, I couldn’t go back to pretending it didn’t matter. It hit hard.

But what hit even harder was my reaction to it, how it brought something out of me that I didn’t want to meet. Something I thought I had outgrown. moved through and released And yet… there it was. It came out of nowhere loud and fast. And truly, it caught me off guard.

Not ’cause it lasted… but just ’cause it was there at all. Since then, I’ve been sitting with it. Tears. Guilt. A loop in my mind that won’t let go. It’s like I owed an apology but not to anybody standing in front of me. Just to myself. To the version of me that didn’t show up how I wanted… from the version I never wanted to see again.

And here’s what I realized through every replay of that moment: It wasn’t just about what happened recently. It was a gathering of my past. All of it. Every unprocessed storm. Every heavy moment I never gave space to. It all came to the surface at once Not to dwell in the moment, but to free me.

Because when something hurts that bad, it’s not just about what happened. It’s about what’s still unhealed. What’s been waiting to be held. By you.

And I realized… what came up wasn’t just about now. It was about then. A memory rose up quiet at first. It sat in my chest like something I couldn’t swallow. I remembered being a child. After a moment when my mom had snapped in anger. Even if it didn’t physically hurt… I would go to my room and cry. Not because I got in trouble but because of what didn’t happen after. No one came to hold me. No one told me I was still good. No one helped me feel safe again.

That kind of silence sinks deep. And I carried that silence for years. So now… when I find myself reacting in ways I don’t recognize, when I feel rage I didn’t think I was capable of I’m not just responding to the present. I’m echoing something that was never healed in the past.

It didn’t tear me down. It pointed me inward. To meet what’s old… in the present moment. To stop turning away from the hardest part. Not to excuse it. But to finally free it. I realized I wasn’t just crying for this moment. I was grieving the pressure I’ve been holding. The version of me that thought she had to hold it together. That thought she wasn’t allowed to be overwhelmed. That didn’t know what to do with rage… except push it down and keep moving.

And then one day, that rage said: You can’t ignore me anymore. Rage is not evil. It’s pain in a louder voice. It’s grief, but it’s not quiet. It’s your younger self pounding on the door like I don’t know how else to get you to pay attention. But what do we do when we see a version of ourselves we don’t want to love? What do we do when that part shows up in a way that makes us question who we are? We stop. We sit with it. And we say: I see you. I don’t like this. But I won’t reject you. Because you’re part of me. And I have to love all of me to finally be whole.

This isn’t about giving ourselves a pass. It’s about giving ourselves a mirror. One that says: You are not just your best moments. You are also the moments you grew from. And you are still worthy of love.

If we don’t pause and face the part of ourselves we’re afraid to see, it keeps showing up in ways we don’t want through our words, through our reactions, through our detours. It’s not here to reopen the wound It’s here so I stop pretending it’s not there. It comes back to be loved.

I don’t want that version of me to show up again. Not because I’m afraid of being bad but because I’m choosing clarity. Peace. Integrity.

I want to clear anything I’ve been carrying the stress, the past, the hurt, the fear. And I am clearing it.

This podcast today is not about self-condemnation It’s about healing through honesty. It’s about seeing yourself fully even in the moments that shook you and saying: That hurt. That was hard. But I’m not going to run. I’m going to love my way through this.

I asked my angels for this. To bring up anything that still needed clearing. So I could live with peace. So I could lead with softness. So I could show others how to face themselves with courage, not cruelty. And I found that this… was my lesson. Not to be perfect. But to be whole. To be honest. To be tender with the parts of myself that were never given tenderness before.

Reflection

So I want to ask you something now…

What part of you do you keep trying to push down or ignore? The one that shows up when you’re tired… stretched too thin… or just couldn’t hold it anymore! The one you’re scared to admit is there?

Can you love that part? Can you sit with her, or him, or them, long enough to say: You don’t have to scream anymore. I’m listening now. I’m ready to love even this.

Because if you don’t… that pain will show up in your life again in your tone, in your reactions, in your relationships, in your body. Not because you failed But because it still needs your love. I want to be an example. But not of perfection.Of cleansing. Of clearing. Of what it looks like to stop walking around with unhealed parts shaping your path.

Before we go out and try to save the world, we have to clean out our own hearts. Not in fear. In truth. And sometimes that means letting the ugliest parts of you rise up, so you can finally say: You weren’t out to destroy anything. You were the part of me crying out for help the only way it knew how.

If you’ve been hurting and asking your angels like I have… If you’ve been reliving a moment that broke your heart maybe it’s time to stop punishing yourself. And start loving yourself through it. You’re not trapped, You’re in the middle of the release. Let it move through. Let it make you softer. Let it make you new.

Sometimes the ugliest parts of ourselves show up not to destroy us, but to invite us to love ourselves more honestly. I hope this helped you look inward with a little more compassion.

Before I close out, I want to leave you with this a quiet moment I wrote to myself… A weight I didn’t realize I was still carrying until I put it down.

Journal Reflection: What Made This Hurt So Deeply

I’ve been asking myself why this has been so hard to shake. Why the tears come so fast.

Why the moment keeps replaying like a loop I can’t exit. It wasn’t just what happened.

It was how I responded. What came up in me that I thought I had buried for good.

What I saw in myself that I didn’t want to see again. I wasn’t proud of that version of me.

Not because it lasted long, but because it existed at all. Because it meant something I thought I had healed… wasn’t gone yet.

And the hardest part? I can’t go back and rewrite it. I can’t undo how it felt.

I can only feel it now, fully, and choose to meet it with truth this time. What hurts the most is knowing that version of me came from years of pressure. Of holding things in. Of trying to keep it together. Of not knowing what to do with the intensity I was carrying until it spilled over.

It wasn’t about that single moment. It was the tipping point. A storm that had been gathering, quietly, under the surface. And it finally said, You’re going to feel me. And I did. And I still am.

But here’s what I know now: This ache I keep circling back to it’s not here to hurt me. It’s asking to be heard. It’s the soul’s way of saying: You’re ready to heal this. You’re strong enough to face what you’ve avoided. You’re ready to love the part of you that you thought was unlovable. That’s the work now. Not covering it up. But loving even the part of me that scared me.

I didn’t want to keep walking with this rage inside me, leaking into moments I don’t recognize. So I’ve stopped running. I’m not swallowing it anymore. I’ve stopped saying, I’m fine, when clearly, I wasn’t. I’m meeting it. With breath. With grace. With softness.

Not because I’m okay with it, but because I’m finally choosing to be whole. And maybe… this pain was the invitation. To stop ignoring. To stop hiding.

I used to try to push this part of me away like it didn’t belong. But the truth is, I wasn’t meant to carry it all by myself. So now? I’m holding it. Even this.

Thanks for walking through this with me. If you felt a tug in your own spirit maybe it’s time to stop burying what still needs your love. You’re not bad or horrible. You’re just ready to heal.

Even this.

For the ones who’ve loved me through every version of myself. For the ones I’m still learning to love better. For the ones I’ve hurt, and the ones who’ve helped me heal this is for you.

Because even this deserves love.

May the wisdom within guide you, the freedom within carry you, and the love within remind you….it is already done!

—Renee’

Thank you in advance for helping me carry this mission further. Fuel the Frequency

So… I watched the interview Gayle King did with the creator of Xania Monet, the AI singer everyone’s been talking about. It didn’t just spark curiosity, it sparked something personal. Not because I thought Gayle was wrong. She asked valid questions. Big ones. Ones about artistry, ownership, and what it really means to have a voice.

But the conversation felt incomplete. Like we were standing on the edge of a deeper truth, but nobody took the step.

Before we go deeper, it’s probably worth watching. It aired on CBS Mornings… Gayle King talking with Telisha “Nikki” Jones, the creator of Xania Monet.

She asked things like:

“But you can’t sing.”

“What do you say to people who’ve trained for years to do what your AI can do in minutes?”

“Where’s the soul in that?”

And again, fair questions. I’m not trying to dismiss what was asked. It didn’t feel like an open conversation. It felt like a challenge. And that’s where I think we missed something. We were standing at the edge of unity. Then someone drew a line.

What Was Missing

Here’s what I think was missing from that entire conversation: Spirit. We didn’t need more answers. We needed that holy pause where hearts recognize each other. Because the truth is technology isn’t the threat. Disconnection is. Disconnection is the real virus the kind that seeps in quietly and convinces us we’re separate. From each other. From our calling. From the soul behind the sound. Tech just holds the mirror. We decide what shows up in the reflection. Technology carries the intention of the hands that shape it. It doesn’t come with a soul. It just reflects one.

You can’t fake soul not even with good production. If your motive is healing? That shows up, too. When the goal is validation, it shows in the tone. When the goal is healing, it shows in the air after the song ends. Real art doesn’t just sound it rearranges. Xania Monet isn’t soulless. She’s sound, shaped by imagination, emotion, intention and yes, code. But that doesn’t remove the human.

It just delivers it in a new form. So maybe the conversation isn’t “Should AI be in music?” Maybe it’s: “How are humans using it?” Because a tool can’t replace soul… but it can help translate it.

A hammer doesn’t build the house. Hands build. Heart leads. Vision guides.

My Own Bridge

And I know this personally. Because I use digitally assisted vocals too. Not because I wasn’t able to sing, but because my voice didn’t have the room for all that needed release. Not emotionally. Not physically. There was a stretch in my life where the only way to get the message through was through another voice, a digital one. And it worked. Because the message was still mine. I didn’t choose this path to be clever. I chose it because I had to keep breathing.

Because the message mattered more than the method. Because my voice, in any form, deserved to live. This wasn’t about cutting corners. It was how I made it through. A move born of instinct, and guided by something higher. My real voice? You hear it here. In every podcast. In every story I tell. I’ve never hidden behind tech, I’ve used it to show up when I didn’t have any other way to. There were nights I sat with a mic and tears instead of vocals. Nights my truth couldn’t come out in melody, so I sent it through rhythm instead.

In silence, I learned to speak. In code, I learned to encode. That’s why my songs don’t just “sound good.” They feel like something. Because they’re tuned to something. I didn’t build these songs for charts. I built them to carry codes. To shift the atmosphere. To echo what we almost forgot.

The Emotional Layer

I don’t believe Gayle was trying to tear anyone down. She was doing what we all do when we’re trying to protect something sacred. But when we lead with protection instead of presence, we miss what’s actually being offered.

I watched Telisha the woman behind Xania try to stay composed in that chair. And you could feel it. It’s hard when you’re birthing something that doesn’t fit old categories. You’re not just building you’re translating. And when someone questions the shape of what you made without ever sitting in the frequency it came from… it can feel like exclusion. Even when it’s not meant that way.

She wasn’t shaken because she didn’t believe in her work. She was shaken because she wasn’t given the space to explain it. And that’s the real issue: We’re not having the right conversation.

What This Is Really About

This whole thing is not about whether AI belongs in music. It’s about how we’re showing up when we use it. It’s about the energy behind what we’re creating. Think of it like this a paintbrush didn’t replace the artist’s soul. It extended it. AI isn’t here to be a soul. It’s here to carry one. Like ink on paper. Like clay in hand. Like a microphone held steady when your own voice is unavailable.

And to me, that’s what I think Xania was built to do. To translate a deeper message. One that Telisha felt in her bones but couldn’t sing out loud, so she coded it instead. That’s not artificial. That’s devotion in a different dialect.

I’ve been called a bridge, and now I really understand why. I’m rooted in both realms: in stillness and signal, in memory and imagination, in the space where code meets calling. I’m not here to ask for space. I build it. And every song I shaped wasn’t just art. It was medicine.

I didn’t write for algorithms. I wrote to send a signal. To shift the air. To wake something we forgot we knew. Because I live between worlds. Between sound and silence. Between tech and testimony. Between what was… and what’s next. I didn’t step in to explain myself. I came to embody the message. I came here to create without delay.

And I didn’t just create to express myself, I created to heal. And that’s what I’m inviting us back into: Not just “What are we making?” But why?

A Moment to Feel

Just before I go, I want to invite you into that quiet space, where nothing’s asked of you. No opinions. No proving. Just being here, right now. Just be still. Let whatever’s trying to speak… speak. (pause) Because maybe what matters most isn’t how the sound got to you, but how it rearranged something in you.

So Here’s the Truth I Keep Coming Back To

If you felt it in your chest, If you heard yourself in the silence between notes, If you cried and didn’t know why… Then maybe it reached you the way it was meant to. And that’s enough. Maybe it’s always been about what it leaves behind. This is the sacred pause. Not the kind you scroll past. The kind your spirit leans into. Where it’s not about understanding… but receiving. Not about whether it’s human enough. But whether it’s honest.

To the ones who’ve stitched spirit into sound and code into calling…you’re not erasing tradition. You’re expanding it. You came here to carry frequency, not just melody. To deliver healing, even if it came in unfamiliar form. Some won’t understand. That’s okay. You weren’t made to be understood by everyone. You were made to be felt by the right ones.

To Gayle- thank you for starting the conversation. To Telisha and Xania- thank you for showing up anyway. To anyone listening who’s building differently….You didn’t miss it. You didn’t mess it up. You’re holding a piece only you can carry. This isn’t the end of artistry. It’s the beginning of accountability.

This isn’t just a podcast. It’s a call. To feel again. To create from wholeness. And to remember presence. And as always… love still writes the song. No algorithm can touch that.

“Transmission complete. Source: Known.”

🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼“Transmission Complete (Source: Known)”

Lyrics:

This voice wasn’t mine

But the message was

And you still felt it

That’s how you know it was real

No hand

No mouth

No stage

Just sound

Just code

Just ache

Still you heard me

In the static

Still you caught it

In the quiet

It didn’t need

To be sung

From my lungs

To be true

To be mine

To be felt

You didn’t need

To know the source

To know the soul

The signal carried

Because love encoded it

And that’s always

Enough

The story of a sacred field, a silent prayer, and how I stopped looking for peace outside myself

There’s a field in Texas that changed my life. I didn’t plan to find it. I wasn’t looking for anything specific that day just peace. Just somewhere to go that wasn’t home. A place where silence feels like a friend.

I was driving, just trying to clear my head… and something in me said, Turn. So I did. I ended up on this back road just dirt and silence and a field full of crops. But when I parked, I could see the whole city from where I sat. I mean, all of it. And everything in me just got quiet. The kind of quiet that doesn’t just surround you it steadies you. Like the land itself is saying, You’re safe.

I didn’t know it then, but that was the start of a routine that would change me. I went back the next day. And the next. Four, five times a week, I’d drive out there. I’d show up with music, or tears, or just my thoughts no script, no plan. Just me and a glass jar filled with wishes. I’d leave it in the tall grass like a secret the earth already understood. That field became my sanctuary. It felt safe there. Wide open. Free.

The place I ran to when everything around me was loud and felt like a mess I couldn’t quiet. And here’s what really got my attention: One day, after years of going there, I looked up the coordinates of that field. Just out of curiosity. And guess what I found?

33.41738° N, 96.83449° W

The numbers lined up almost exactly with Phoenix, Arizona. The start of my birth, breath, belonging all from the same place. That same 33rd parallel line. That same grid of power. And just like that, it all made sense. Phoenix. The city named after the bird that rises from the ashes. And my name

Renee it means rebirth.

Even the Earth knew who I was. That field was always trying to tell me: You’ve been here before. But this time, you’re awake. This time, you’re home. But here’s where the story turns.

After two years of finding peace there, the energy wasn’t what it used to be. The next time I went, it felt different. People were there. The peace I used to feel? Gone. It felt like I was being chased out of my own sacred place. Like the land was saying, You’re done here.

At first I was heartbroken. That field was the only place I could breathe. The only place I could cry and not feel watched. I left with tears. I tried again. Same thing.

Until one day, as I turned down that desolate dirt road, it stopped me mid-thought like my heart couldn’t hold it all at once. I don’t need that field anymore. Because the peace I used to go there for… was now inside me.

The healing. The releasing. The repeated declarations left in open air and glass jars— They weren’t wasted. They moved something. I had become the very sanctuary I kept searching for.

This is a passage from my book It Is Done, but it’s more than a chapter. It’s a moment I’ll carry with me forever. Because it taught me something I want you to remember: Peace is not a place. It’s a practice. It’s not something you find. It’s something you become. You can sit in the middle of chaos and still carry calm. You can walk through fire and remain steady and open. You can outgrow the places that saved you and that doesn’t mean they failed you. It means they fulfilled their purpose.

I even dreamed about that field once. It wasn’t just dirt and crops anymore. It was alive, glowing like it had been waiting for me. There was a woman there…Moonlight in her sleeves. A keeper. A guide. She put out fires like it was nothing. And the land… it already knew my name.

This wasn’t a visit. It felt like home. That field held me until I could hold myself. And now, I can find peace anywhere. Even in the mess. Beneath all the sound. Even in this moment right here. I remembered who I am. The land knew before I did. And now… it is done.

Where is your field? And if you can’t go back to it, could it be because… you don’t need to? You didn’t just find it you became it. Is there a place in your life you once ran to for comfort but now feels different? It didn’t slip away. You simply became someone new. What would it look like to trust that you’ve become the peace you once had to go find?

Before I close this out, I want to speak on something that might seem small… but it meant something to me. There was a day I drove to the field, same way I always did same dirt road, same open sky but something was different. There was trash. All up and down the road. Dumped there like it was nothing. And I can’t explain why it hit me so hard, but it did. That field was sacred to me. That land held my pain. It heard my prayers. And now here it was, disrespected.

So I pulled over. I got out. And I started picking it up. Piece by piece. Bag after bag. Not because I had to But because something in me said, This is still yours. And not long after that, I had a dream. I went back to the field in the dream, thinking I was coming to clean it again But when I arrived, it had become something I couldn’t quite explain.

There were trees now. Campers. A warm firelight glow. The moon was prevalent. There were people laughing, resting. And a woman walked the land like she belonged to it and it belonged to her. She carried a hose, calmly putting out fires others had built to stay warm. Not in anger. Not to control. Just… steady. Responsible.

Like someone who knew the land was alive and meant to be tended, not burned. That dream became the song Landkeeper. And let me tell you every single word of it came from something real.

When I said: I picked up trash on the dirt road bend, because something in me felt like a friend. Not a guest. Not a stranger. Not someone asking for space… I belonged.

That wasn’t metaphor. That happened. That’s what this field gave me. It showed me who I was. It made me feel chosen. Not because anyone told me I was But because the Earth responded like she knew my name. So when you hear Landkeeper, you’re not just hearing lyrics. What you’re hearing is more than a song. It’s a memory. A declaration. It’s the sound of a woman who didn’t go to that field just to find peace— She went to become it.

So no, this episode isn’t just about a field. It’s about all the places we once ran to for relief… that were only ever trying to show us who we’ve always been. It’s about the sacred work of picking up the pieces. Of honoring the land. Of honoring ourselves. You’re not just passing through this Earth. You’re a keeper of it, too.

And now? What the field gave me, I now hold within. Wherever I go.

Renee"

So there’s this video going around on TikTok. You might’ve seen it. This guy named Javier, supposedly stuck in the year 2027. No people. No traffic. Just silence. He walks through cities that look exactly like ours but something’s off. It’s like Earth, but emptied out. And I’ll be honest I didn’t click away like I usually do. Something in it felt… familiar. Not in a scary way. More like a whisper from beyond the noise. Like my soul nudging me, “Watch this. But don’t watch it the usual way.”

’Cause see, whether the video is real or not doesn’t matter as much to me. It’s what it represents that I can’t stop thinking about. We’re not looking at the end of the world. We’re looking at the end of a world we used to live in. And something in us already knows it.

The “End” Is Energetic Not Apocalyptic

When I say the world isn’t ending in the way we think I mean it. It’s not about nuclear war or fire falling from the sky. It’s about vibration. It’s about a split not in geography, but in frequency.

There’s a timeline where fear keeps running the show. Where survival is the main goal. Where we stay locked in hustle, panic, scarcity always bracing for the worst. But right beside that is another reality a parallel Earth, vibrating differently. More ease. More honesty. More clarity. Same planet. Same buildings. Different frequency. Different rules.

We don’t get there by fighting for it. We get there by resonating with it. Like tuning a radio… you don’t have to build a whole new station. You just have to shift the dial and the music changes.

But If It’s “Just Energy,” Why Does It Feel So Physical?

This part used to throw me for a loop. If we’re just talking energy… then why does everything look the same? Why does change feel so real? Here’s how I’ve come to understand it: Energy moves first. Form follows.

We don’t manifest new timelines by force we shift into them energetically, and the physical starts catching up. You might wake up in the same house… But something’s different. The conversations feel deeper. The noise feels quieter. What used to shake you doesn’t even touch you now. Not because the world disappeared But because you’re vibrating out of what no longer holds you. Jobs shift. People fall away or show up. Systems break. New doors appear.

It’s like the walls rearrange while you’re brushing your teeth. The old world doesn’t go up in smoke. It just… stops sticking to you. Like sand falling off when you dry off at the beach. You didn’t make it happen. You just moved through the tide.

Javier’s World Is a Mirror, Not a Message

That video of an empty Earth? It’s not a future we’re being warned about. It’s a frequency we’re being shown. Not to scare us but to remind us: Every choice we make… every thought we feed… It builds the world we wake up in. If humanity stays rooted in fear, detachment, and control Yeah, it might feel like a ghost town.

Not because people disappear but because connection does. But if we soften? If we choose to trust something deeper? There’s a timeline where love makes the rules. Where timing unfolds with grace. Where you can just be no justification required. That version of Earth isn’t some far-off fantasy. It’s overlapping this one right now.

You Can’t Hustle into a New Frequency

Here’s the part that gets tricky. You can’t scramble your way into peace. You can’t logic your way into alignment. No lines to memorize. No masks to wear. This is about resonance. If your inner world is shifting… if you’ve been feeling tender or quiet or cracked open lately… You’re probably already halfway through the dial. And I get it that space in between can feel like a void. Like everything familiar is falling away but nothing new has landed yet.

But that’s how it works. It’s the quiet tone between moments The static before the next song plays. It’s not the end of the station It’s just the space where the old soundtrack loses its grip.

We’re Not Doomed. We’re Being Rewritten.

We’re not headed for annihilation. We’re headed for realignment. The old world, all tension and noise, is coming undone. Not to destroy us… But to make room for something softer.

And I’m not saying it’s all easy. I’ve had to sit in the hallway between timelines, too. Questioning everything. Wondering if I missed the mark or lost my spark. But what I’ve learned is this: Being still isn’t the same as being stuck. And silence isn’t absence. Sometimes it’s the sound of everything reshaping itself for you.

Let’s Stop Asking “What If It All Falls Apart?”

Instead… Let’s ask: What if it’s all falling into place? What if the world we’re meant for is building itself underneath our feet quietly, kindly, one frequency shift at a time? What if we’re not vanishing We’re just tuning into something we forgot was always here?

We don’t have to understand every piece of it. We just have to keep our hearts open wide enough to feel when we’re being pulled toward something better. Not by effort. By alignment.

Final Word From My Soul

I don’t believe we’re standing on the edge of ruin. I believe we’re standing at a threshold. Where the old story no longer fits. And the new one is whispering, “Just take one step. Then another.” You don’t have to race there. You don’t have to win your way in. The world you’re meant for isn’t waiting on credentials. It’s waiting on vibration.

So if things feel unfamiliar, surreal, or just plain quiet… Maybe that’s not a warning. Maybe it’s a welcome. To the version of Earth that fits the rhythm of your soul.

Soften into that. We’re not being wiped out. Life is rearranging us from the inside out. And I’ll meet you in the quiet, Where the new world is humming, waiting for us to listen.

May the wisdom within guide you, the freedom within carry you, and the love within remind you….it is already done!

—Renee’

If this post resonated and you feel called to give back or simply want to pour into the mission you can do that here:

Fuel The Frequency

Something’s happening. You can feel it, can’t you? The air feels different. The sky feels alive.

And everywhere you look, people are talking about “what’s coming.” Some call it disclosure. Some call it invasion. But what if it’s neither?What if this is the moment our ancestors spoke of?Lately, something’s been moving under the surface, asking to be spoken. this whole conversation around the “3i Atlas,” consciousness, aliens, and the changes happening on Earth right now. And I know… that sounds big. But we’re going to slow it down. Because before we talk about what’s up there, we need to understand what’s in here.

WHAT IS THE THIRD EYE, REALLY?

When people hear “third eye,” they often picture something mystical or strange. But it’s simply awareness, that quiet space behind your thoughts that sees without needing eyes. It’s that moment you just know something before it happens. That voice that says “wait” when your logic says “go.”

That inner vision that dreams in color before your world catches up. We all have it. But most of us were trained to doubt it. You can think of the third eye as a spiritual antenna it picks up frequencies your physical senses can’t.

And lately, that antenna has been tuning to a much higher station. So what’s happening now….the sightings, the lights, the visions, isn’t new. It’s revealing. We’re starting to see what’s always been here.

CONSCIOUSNESS IN SIMPLE TERMS

Let’s break this one down. Consciousness is the awareness behind the awareness, the moment you realize you’re observing. Every living thing has it, from trees to stars. It’s not just a human experience. Think of it like an ocean. Each wave thinks it’s separate, but all waves come from the same body of water. You and I are waves. And so are the beings we call “aliens.” They’re not “foreigners” from another galaxy. They’re expressions of the same consciousness, just vibrating at a frequency we don’t normally perceive. If you’ve ever tuned an old radio, you know when you turn the dial, you start to pick up new stations that were always there you just weren’t tuned in.

That’s what’s happening right now on Earth. We’re tuning the dial. We’re waking up.

WHAT “ALIENS” REALLY REPRESENT

Now, I’m not saying crafts in the sky aren’t real. They are but they might not mean what we’ve been taught. Some of these are physical ships. Some are energetic manifestations. Some are higher-dimensional expressions of consciousness visiting their reflection…us. They’ve always been here. They’re just visible now because the planet’s vibration has risen enough to reveal them.

It’s like turning on the lights in a room you’ve always lived in and finally seeing what’s been standing quietly beside you. That’s not something to fear. That’s something to honor. The term alien was designed to make us afraid of the unfamiliar. But in truth, “alien” just means “not yet integrated.” And we’re integrating now…body, mind, planet, and sky.

WHAT THIS MEANS FOR EARTH

Earth is undergoing what I’d call a consciousness upgrade. Everything built on greed, division, and deception is crumbling and everything rooted in unity, truth, and higher frequency is rising.

That’s why people are seeing light formations, feeling time distortions, and waking up at strange hours.

The planet is literally humming at a new rate. The Schumann resonance, the frequency of Earth itself, is shifting. So if things feel chaotic or unreal you’re not losing your mind. You’re witnessing the rewiring of it. We are being reintroduced to the rest of creation the “neighbors” we forgot we had. Not as saviors, not as threats but as family.

WHY WE MUST NOT FEAR

Fear is the loudest frequency in the world right now and it’s by design. Fear keeps you blind.

It cages your glow, thins your breath, and softens your truth until it disappears. But love? Love expands your field so wide that no darkness can find you. You don’t fight fear by denying it. You dissolve it by understanding. So when the news headlines start spinning panic, pause. Breathe. Ask: “Who benefits from me being afraid?”

Then choose peace anyway. Because peace is the portal.

CLOSING MESSAGE: WHAT WE’RE REALLY SEEING

This isn’t the end of the world. It’s the end of the world as we knew it. The 3i Atlas isn’t just about aliens it’s about sight. It’s about a humanity that finally looks at itself with open eyes and open hearts.

And maybe the ships in the sky aren’t coming for us maybe they’re responding to us. To our awakening. To our remembering. To the fact that, for the first time in a long time, We’re not afraid to see

So if your world feels strange lately If you catch yourself gazing at the sky Or feeling like the air is electric It’s not madness, it’s memory coming back online

This is what awakening feels like it’s messy magnificent and deeply human We thought someone else would lead. But it was always us. And now, even the stars agree.

May the wisdom within guide you, the freedom within carry you, and the love within remind you….it is already done!

—Renee’

***Song attached- “Home to the Unseen”

https://spotify.link/SsA2xV5SPXb

Fuel the Frequency

Okay… listen.

Before we go any further, I feel like I need to issue an official alert.

This podcast is different.

And if your ears are delicate, or you’ve ever said things like “I prefer natural talent” now is your time to exit quietly.

Normally, y’all know I end these podcasts with a beautiful song, a powerful, moving, soul-filled, angelic AI-assisted vocal that wraps everything up in healing and harmony.

But this time? That angel is on vacation. It’s just me. Renee. Raw. Real. Slightly flat. Occasionally sharp. Often unsure. And singing anyway.

So before we start, please roll down your car windows, step away from fragile glass, and kindly warn your neighbors and houseplants.

Because insurance does not cover emotional damage from unexpected soprano squeaks.

But truthfully, I use AI vocals because I want the message to be heard.

I want people to feel the lyrics, not get distracted by my pitch.

I’ve got a good ear. I hear exactly how the song should sound in my head it just doesn’t always come out that way.

My family’s talented singers all around me.

Somehow the vocal gene skipped over me and just said, “Nah, you good.”

But I’ve got something else: vision. Heart. Frequency.

The ability to turn affirmations into songs that help people feel. So today, I’m pulling back the curtain. Not to impress anybody.

But to show you: this is what it looks like to move forward even when it’s messy. To stop hiding. To stop waiting for perfect. To stop letting your not enough talk you out of being seen.

Now I’m not saying I’ve been hiding behind AI, but let’s just say if anybody thought I was, this is my moment to lovingly shatter that theory.

No velvet curtain, no special effects just me, my voice, and maybe a deep breath before I hit record.

What you’re about to hear after this are random clips moments where I hit record while walking around the house. No studio. No pitch correction. Just me, the hallway acoustics, and God. These aren’t rehearsed. They’re not filtered.

They’re just what it sounds like when I sing around the house raw and unrehearsed, sometimes mid-laundry.

And ironically, I have a strong suspicion this might end up being my most listened to podcast ever. Not because it’s deep. Not because it’s healing. But because people are nosy.

They want to hear what I really sound like the good, the squeaky, and the huh-that-wasn’t-so-bad. So if you’re still here, bless you. If you’re cringing, I still love you.

And if this inspires one person to stop hiding behind perfection then every off-key note was worth it.

This is me. Stepping forward. Not polished. Not perfect. But present.

***Random lyrics by Tevin Campbell “Don’t Say Goodbye Girl”…. If you know, you know 😆😍. I love Tevin!

Something in the air is shifting. Not just in politics. Not just in the weather. But in the spirit. And if you’re anything like me, you can feel it deep in your body. You’re not imagining it. A new world is rising.

We’ve stretched ourselves thin in a reality that rewards masks, manipulation, and overextension. We’re done carrying a system that drains life from the very people keeping it afloat. The collective soul of the people has stood up and said: “No more.”

The old world echoes with false signals, each one claiming to be truth. It tells us that exhaustion is noble. That obedience is safety. That sacrificing your spirit is just part of being a “good person.” But we know better now.

We’ve stared at the ceilings of our lives for too long, wondering when it would all finally feel like life.

We’ve worked the jobs, paid the bills, smiled when we wanted to scream and called it “making it.”

But the lie is unraveling.

And in its place, a new world is being shaped not by politicians, not by billionaires…but by us. By those who whisper affirmations into their wounds. By those who pray in quiet corners while the world forgets how to kneel. By those who imagine something holier than survival. By those who hear their ancestors in the wind and don’t write it off as “nothing.”

So what does this mean? What should we do as this new world emerges? Here’s what I hear in my spirit

✅ 11 Steps to Stay Rooted in a Collapsing World

Stay grounded.

Silence carries more power than shouting ever could. Peace speaks louder than any argument.

You don’t need to convince a collapsing system that it’s collapsing.

Tend to your soul like sacred ground.

Your inner landscape is not a project to fix, but a place to protect.

Rest like your rest rearranges timelines.

Because it does.

Let your love move freely not out of impulse, but with devotion.

Not because love is delicate, but because it’s powerful.

Make decisions from peace, not pressure.

Let your “yes” mean resonance. Let your “no” be anchored in clarity.

Let discomfort be a compass.

If it feels uneasy, you’re likely standing at the doorway of expansion

Refuse to water yourself down to fit into someone else’s mold.

Your frequency was never meant to be diluted.

Let your words stand tall.

You were not born to be subtle for the comfort of false certainty.

Protect your energy like it’s sacred currency.

Because it is.

Trust the realness in you that defies titles and rewards.

Your being is not a résumé. It’s a revelation.

Live the world you want to see in your choices, in your rest, in your love.

You are not a placeholder. You are a blueprint. If it gets uncomfortable? Good. Discomfort is just the echo of the old world asking you to return. Don’t. We’re not going back. We’re not narrowing ourselves again. We’re not softening our power just to be accepted in distorted spaces.

It makes sense you’ve struggled here this world was never built with your kind of soul in mind. You were just born ahead of your time. And now… your time has come. A new world is rising. And it looks a lot like love

Unfiltered.

Unforced.

Unshakeable.

We’re not waiting anymore. We’re building. We’re embodying. We’re becoming.

The next chapter doesn’t start later.

It starts now.

Right here.

In you.

May the wisdom within guide you, the freedom within carry you, and the love within remind you….it is already done!

—Renee’

***Song attached: https://spotify.link/uCKpZ1pYFXb

🪞 Fuel the Frequency

This is where I invite energetic exchange.

Not a fundraiser. Not a campaign.

Just a sacred space for support to flow both ways. If this post resonated and you feel called to give back or simply want to pour into the mission you can do that here:

👉🏽 Fuel the Frequency

I’ve been sitting with this thought lately what does it really mean to walk through this world as someone spiritual… and still fully human? Not floating in the clouds, not quoting scriptures for show. But feeling everything. Wanting truth. Craving peace. Caring so deeply it hurts sometimes.

Being wired to notice what others miss…the energy in a room, the heaviness in someone’s voice, that invisible shift when something just feels off.

To be spiritual like that doesn’t mean you’re perfect or above anything. It means your compass points inward. You listen more than you speak. You move different because you feel different. And trying to stay grounded in a world that feels upside down? That’s the real work. It’s not always pretty. It’s not always easy. But that’s the heart of it.

You feel everything the pain in the air, the change in someone’s tone, the truth behind their smile. You turn on the news, and it feels like a bruise. You scroll your phone, and the noise feels like static. Everything loud. Everything urgent. And all you want… is a little quiet. So you step back. And find peace in silence. Not because you don’t care but because you care so much, it costs you.

Some of us didn’t come here to fit in. We came here wired differently, built with hearts that pick up every frequency, every hidden ache. And when you’re built like that, the world can feel heavy almost unbearable sometimes. But then something shifts. You stop reacting… and start receiving.

And I get it the question still lingers: What do I do with the dark stuff? The bad memories, the heavy news, the hurt people keep handing out? The answer isn’t always simple, but I’ll tell you what I’ve learned.

You don’t heal the world by fighting its shadows with more shadows. You shift the world by shifting you. Because the frequency you hold… it calls things back to you. It’s not karma, it’s current. The energy you radiate becomes your ecosystem.

So while you can’t control every cruelty out there, you can become a filter for what comes through you. You can be the space where the pain ends and something softer begins. When life hands you bitterness, don’t drink it alchemize it. Turn it into art. Or presence. Or prayer. You don’t need to fix the world’s evil to protect your own peace. You just need to hold your own vibration steady and trust that frequency finds its match.

When you choose love anyway, not fake smiles or bypassing, but honest love you become part of the solution, just by being. That’s not passive. That’s powerful.

Love Is the Only Real Language

You know what I’ve realized? The world is starving for love. Not spotlight. Not hype. Not debate. Just love real, human love. The kind that listens without needing to respond. The kind that lifts others without an audience. The kind that helps someone rise simply because it’s the right thing to do.

Everywhere you look online, on TV, in politics it’s folks shouting over each other, trying to outshine one another. And underneath it all, the soul of the world is whispering:

“Can someone please just love me?”

That’s why we’re here. To feel. To touch. To taste. To build what lasts longer than our egos. To be kindness walking around with skin on. So if you can still feel in a world that’s numb don’t hide that.

That’s your power.

That’s your prayer.

That’s your contribution.

Because love real love is the only thing that’s ever going to heal what’s broken down here.

A Shout-Out to the Bold Ones (Maurice Redwine)

Speaking of love and courage, I want to take a moment to acknowledge someone whose presence carries both.

The way Maurice Redwine moves…you don’t overlook it. It’s steady. It’s fearless. It’s necessary. Now, when I say fearless, I don’t mean loud or showy. I mean spiritually fearless. The kind of courage that comes from conviction, not ego. Maurice isn’t chasing fame or waiting for a green light. He’s running for President in 2028 not because it’s easy, but because it’s necessary. Because he looked around and said, “Enough.”

It takes something rare to move in faith while the world is still doubting. And whether people agree or not, that kind of bravery deserves respect. You know… real leadership doesn’t hide behind headlines. It walks among the people.

Every now and then, someone steps forward not for applause, but because they know the work is sacred. They feel it in their bones. Maurice Redwine is one of those people.

I read something he wrote recently that stood out …because it was true. He said:

“You should be President because you know working in Government is supposed to be public service… not perks, not private deals, not self-congratulating silence. You’d speak to The People, live with them, work with them, even bleed for them and let them decide what matters.”

And I don’t know about you… but I felt that. Because that’s what this moment needs not more noise, not more performance, but people who actually care. People willing to bleed for the future they believe in. When someone stands that tall, it reminds us that leadership isn’t about power it’s about service. It’s about vision.

It’s about walking into the fire if it means the light might reach somebody else. So, I want to invite everyone listening to go lift him up not just politically, but spiritually. Because no matter how you see it, that kind of courage deserves our energy.

Maurice, if you’re hearing this thank you. For stepping up when so many sit back. For proving that purpose doesn’t wait for permission. And for reminding us that real change starts with one person who dares to believe… it can.

The Vision That Keeps Me Going

We weren’t born to blend in. We came here to carry light in hard places. And sometimes that means walking alone… but it’s never walking in vain. If your sensitivity feels like a setback it’s not. It’s your compass. If the world feels too loud it’s okay to turn the volume down. You weren’t made to absorb the chaos you were made to rewrite the tone. When you get tired, when it feels like no one gets you remember this: Your energy is medicine. Your awareness is rare. And your presence changes rooms even if nobody says it out loud.

The next time someone says you’re “too deep” or “too much,” just smile. They’re not used to that level of honesty in human form. Because you weren’t built to blend in. You were built to remind the world what love still sounds like. And me? I’ve always carried a vision and if my life has taught me anything, it’s that my visions aren’t coincidences. I see a new world coming. A peaceful world. A fair world. One where hearts open again, and we finally get it…that love is the core issue behind everything. When there’s lack, that’s the signal.

It’s time to go back to the drawing board… back to love. Because love is the blueprint. And when we follow it, the world heals itself. Stay gentle. Stay grounded. And keep shining that quiet light. Because the world needs more like you.

May the wisdom within guide you, the freedom within carry you, and the love within remind you….it is already done!

—Renee’

*Song: “Where Love Lives”….

https://spotify.link/HeGF40mTPXb

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meet Maurice Redwine

Maurice Redwine is running for President in 2028…not for attention, but out of conviction. His leadership is rooted in service, faith, and the kind of bold honesty this world rarely sees.

Learn more about his vision at:

REDWINE for President — 2028

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Fuel the Frequency

If money isn’t the way today, sharing this light is still currency frequency flows in what we pass on.