Spiritual writing for clarity, depth, and inner truth.
In Chapters 2 and 3 of Enanika, we move further into Anu’s world. Something is shifting — the theatrical callboy appears more often than chance would allow. As Anu prepares for her journey, the threads of a larger unfolding begin to unravel.
🌍✨ A new story begins…
It’s always an exciting moment to begin a new story.
Here is the start of my new fiction series, Enanika.
It carries the same mystical, otherworldly tone as the Waldmeer Series—yet it’s set in a completely different world. 🌿🕊️
In the opening chapter of Enanika, we meet Anu in her natural world — a peaceful, advanced planet where telepathy is normal, harmony is effortless, and daily life moves with an inner hum of presence.
Moving with untroubled ease through the open-air market, Anu’s short chestnut bob brushed just above her shoulders. Sunlight caught her blue eyes, clear as the surface of a calm mountain lake.
Anu was thirty-three.
On Enanika, age does not carry the same weight as it does on Earth. Time is not something accumulated so much as something moved within. Even so, there is a specialness about thirty-three in both worlds. On Earth, it marks the settling of adulthood, when certain things — for good or bad — begin to solidify. On Enanika, it is also a threshold: a time when what had been practised, learned, and played with can now be lived, explored, and embodied in new, profound, and challenging ways. It is a gateway.
Continue reading “Enanika: Visionary Fiction—The Marketplace”
I’m so happy to let you know that Consciousness Rising is now available. It is my 23rd book. I love all my books (like children) and each one is different (like children). Consciousness Rising carries the most advanced teaching of them, yet it’s not difficult to understand. It’s full of practical practices for you to try — enjoyable, transformative ways to change how you see and experience yourself and life. Available as paperback, ebook, and audiobook.
Most people live their entire lives inside a narrow, troubled version of reality — unaware that both they and their world are fragments of a far greater field of consciousness.
Consciousness Rising is an invitation to step beyond those limits and awaken to the deeper architecture of existence.
Through paradigm-shifting insights, grounded practices, and lived stories, this book shows how awareness transforms every dimension of life — dissolving the patterns that confine us, reconfiguring our inner world, and revealing the extraordinary potential that is always within reach.
This is not abstract philosophy or comforting theory. It is radical truth — a shift in perception that changes how we think, love, create, and live. Within these pages, consciousness becomes a living, transformative force for you to embrace.
Good fiction writers aren’t simply creating imaginary worlds out of nothing. They’re tuning into other concurrent realities. Most people assume that there is just one reality. But those on the spiritual path understand that existence has many layers. A skilled writer can attune to those layers. The world they write about is real in its own dimension…
When we understand that we are always living in spirit—that spirit is our natural home—we see death differently. The soul is not inside the body. It is the other way around. The body is in the soul. Earth life can be thought of as a creation made in physical form. We are experiencing it with other souls who have agreed to share the same dimension.
Each morning, when we wake up, it is not so much that we enter back into reality out of a dream, but that we shift between dimensions, exchanging one dream for another. The dream is not “unreal” in the sense of being invalid. From the perspective of the soul, it is entirely valid—100% real—because it brings lessons, experiences, and opportunities for growth, both for ourselves and for others. Even the most difficult experiences are chosen, for they contain the opportunity for tremendous growth.
Death is not an ending. It is a shifting of dreams, a changing of dimensions. The Earth dream is precious, valid, and chosen. When it concludes, we awaken once more into the larger reality of Spirit. From there, we continue—always alive, always creating, always home.
When we lose someone deeply woven into the fabric of our lives—it could be a partner, a parent, a child, a sibling, or a close friend—grief is the natural human response. When lives have been intimately shared, their absence forces us to find a new way of being, sometimes at many different levels.
For most people, the grieving process typically lasts one to three years. During that time, emotions rise and fall, and the experience can feel somewhat similar to depression—not in a negative sense, but as a turning inward. Grief asks us to withdraw, to reform ourselves, and to create a new life structure after something central has been taken away. Depression, when used positively, is a similar process. It is a reformulation of ourselves.
Your connection with your loved one is irreplaceable and unbroken. The question is how you wish to experience this human journey and whether you choose to allow grief to become a doorway into transformation and a deeper awareness of love.
The life of Cesar Millan, dog trainer extraordinaire, began far from the glossy world of television studios. As a young man, he crossed the border into the United States with almost nothing—no English, no money, only instinct. He worked as a dog groomer’s assistant in Los Angeles, but people soon noticed that when their pets were too difficult or aggressive for others, Cesar could handle them calmly.
The cases that built his reputation were the unmanageable Rottweilers, German shepherds, and other powerful breeds. Where others saw danger, he carried calm leadership. Just as Cesar’s success came not from the easy dogs but from the fierce ones that others feared or rejected, we do not choose who comes to us in life. We don’t handpick our companions, our students, our audience, or our circumstances. If we have something to give, those who need it will find us. They may not look like what we expected. But they are ours.
At a certain stage of spiritual evolution, solitude arises naturally. It is not avoidance, but a way of keeping one’s field clear. Ordinary interaction can feel noisy, fear-driven, or self-reinforcing. Solitude restores clarity.
But not everyone at this stage of consciousness seeks solitude. Some are drawn into human fields because their life purpose is to serve, teach, or engage. Probably, more than half of seekers at this level find that their path requires long stretches of nature or withdrawal. The remaining are called outward. Their purpose demands a greater tolerance for and enjoyment of human interaction. The difference is not about higher or lower, but purpose.
As you mature spiritually, the tendency toward solitude is very common. The reasons for this are:
The question is not really whether we choose aloneness or togetherness, but what frequency we are vibrating at. If people are honest, most encounters with others are shaped by fear, by the need for reassurance, or by the desire to confirm a sense of self. These patterns are so common that they feel normal, but what is sought always fails to fulfil.
What makes intimacy work?
