BELIEF: A Vapor, a Feeling, a Truth

 Belief is a profoundly puzzling—and often elusive—subject...

 We all know that spirit is vapor. It’s air which is thought, understanding, perception, emotion, and feeling. And belief is part of that same essence. To be “spiritual” means to invite new thoughts into the heart and mind. (new air?) We reflect deeply. We seek love in all its mystery. We open ourselves to multiple perspectives. We listen—not just to religious texts, but also to metaphysical whispers, mystical dreams, and inner knowing. We ask, “What is life? Why am I here? What comes next?” And we often find that the answers do not come from books—but from within.

 Spiritual people tend to welcome mystery. We’re excited when someone presents a new way of seeing reality. We don’t just want to know more—we long to know more. We’re not afraid to consider ideas from other timelines or dimensions, even when they seem unbelievable. If something resonates, if it stirs our body and spirit, we give it space.

 This is where belief becomes a subtle art. Information flows like a faucet when we’re aligned. Some of it feels like ancient wisdom, passed through imagination, dreams, or inner vision. But we still ask: Should I believe this? Our first instinct might be to fact-check. Yet many spiritual thinkers trust their inner compass—that awakened sense of knowing that lives in the body.

 Still, discernment is crucial. Not all information is clean or true. Stories, myths, and even “miraculous” courses can be manipulative. We’ve all encountered spiritual hucksters peddling snake oil in mystical packaging. When we’re emotionally triggered, our body chemistry shifts—and that’s when belief can sneak in. Real truth, though, doesn’t just land in the mind. It vibrates through the whole body. We feel it. That’s why our bodies—more than our minds—are our most reliable truth detectors.

 We’ve all played the “telephone game.” A story is passed along, changing a little each time, until it barely resembles the original. That’s how belief forms sometimes—through interpretation. And interpretation is guided by sensation. We don’t adopt beliefs instantly; they form when our emotions and body chemistry say yes. If our body doesn’t register the truth, we’re better off letting it go.

Spirit, Vision, and the Voice Within

I bring this up now because I’ve been reflecting on the many extraordinary events of my life. Some seem too fantastical to be real—but when they happened, every part of me lit up with truth. I remember the feelings clearly, and that tells me something important: my body was speaking. My soul was affirming. That’s how I knew what to believe.

So I ask you:

When new information enters your awareness, do you feel it in your body?

Do you need time to process it?

Are you skeptical, or are you quick to adopt and share it?

Often, people accept ideas at face value because they don’t have the time—or the interest—to dig deeper. But once we believe something, our emotions wrap around it and form a bubble in our consciousness. That bubble starts influencing everything we perceive. This happens in religion, politics, cults, mythology, and even spiritual communities. The human condition is to trust and believe—but that makes us vulnerable, especially in a world saturated with manipulation.

 As spiritual seekers, we’re open—and that openness is a gift. But it also comes with responsibility. Some “alternative histories” may actually be lost truths resurfacing. Others are distortions meant to control. The key is discernment, guided by the wisdom of the body and the brilliance of critical thinking. Yes, you can be a mystical muse and a sharp, grounded thinker.

Lies are powerful because they hijack emotion. They pierce the body’s energetic shield and implant a new version of reality. If we let a lie in without checking it, our body starts defending it, even building a fortress around it. That’s how propaganda spreads. That’s how we lose sovereignty. In science fiction terms, it’s not unlike alien programming turning humans into passive zombies. It’s a dramatic image—but not entirely untrue.

So how do we protect our personal truth? ... With choice.

We get to choose what we accept.

We get to question what we hear, feel into what’s real, and reject what doesn’t resonate.

We get to trace a story to its source, examine it with care, and ask: Is this the whole truth, or someone’s version of it?

If we’re going to share something, let’s make sure we’ve done our spiritual homework. Let’s look for the deeper connections and synchronicities that affirm our beliefs. Pay attention to your heart and gut especially. Feel your Third Eye. Sense resonance in the Thymus and Throat Chakra. Let your body tell you what is real and what is not. Then, let’s honor the ancient stories while remembering they were shaped by the people who carried them forward. Truth deserves our devotion—and our discernment.

From Lemuria with Love: A Truth You Can Feel

Right now, I’m completing the design of a tabletop board game I’ve been creating for five years. It tells the story of conscious evolution through the lens of ancient Lemuria. When I started, I didn’t know anything about Lemuria. The information came to me in dreams, visions, and meditations. I wrote it all down—without knowing where it would lead. Eventually, those writings became a manuscript, then a game. Only after the work was complete did I begin reading other Lemurian books—over 30 of them. Some matched what I had received. Others didn’t. But I never changed my story. I believe each of us holds a piece of the Lemurian memory. My truth came through my own lived sensations.

A friend who played the game suggested I add more “magic” to enchant players. I smiled, but declined. I didn’t want to embellish truth just to create drama. The magic, for me, was already there—in the feelings, the visions, the memories. I wasn’t telling a fairy tale. I was remembering a life. A real one. From a real world we may have forgotten.

And how do I know it’s real?

Because my body told me so.

Our bodies are more than flesh and bone. They’re quantum computers, wisdom keepers, creative generators, and sensitive receivers of spirit. They hold more intelligence than we can possibly imagine. Compared to artificial intelligence, we are still light-years ahead. Our bodies can regenerate life—and belief lives at the heart of that ability.

So here’s my hope for you:

May your body always guide you.

May you listen to your heart, your gut, and the subtle vibrations within.

May you pause before passing along anything uncertain.

And may your curiosity lead you into the forgotten realms of truth—where love, magic, and memory dwell.

Because that’s where pure belief is born.

Love many.

Trust few.

Always paddle your own canoe.

(when it comes to belief)