It’s in the little things.
That’s what I’ve been waking up to lately.
Not with fear, not with judgment, but with a kind of reverent awe for how deeply spiritual this life really is.
You know, we tend to think of dark forces — demons, entities, attachments, whatever word you want to use — as something you’d have to go searching for in a horror movie or conjuring circle. Something obvious, grotesque, loud.
But what if they’re not?
What if they don’t knock on your door with blood and fangs but with something far more seductive: your fatigue.
Your hunger.
Your loneliness.
Your boredom.
What if it’s the fourth glass of wine after a long day, when you say to yourself, “I deserve this,” but inside you know, you’re actually running.
Avoiding.
Escaping.
What if it’s the endless scroll, thumb sliding, eyes glazed, as you numb out to a highlight reel of other people’s lives while yours quietly waits for you to show up?
What if it’s the way you agree to a hookup even when your soul says no, but your ego says, “It’s fine, it’s just fun, everyone’s doing it”?
That’s how they get in.
Not because you’re evil.
Not because you’re weak.
But because you’re human.
And because this world has sold us a very clever lie, that innocence is in the appearance of things, not in the intention. That if something looks harmless, it is harmless.
But I’ve come to see the truth of something far deeper: spiritual contracts are made in silence. In choices. In energy. In agreement. And they are very rarely conscious.
I was speaking with a client the other day, he’s working through years of anger and emotional reactivity in his relationship. We were talking about how he always finds himself reacting fast and hard, saying things he doesn’t mean, pushing buttons, demanding to be heard, but not listening in return. We slowed the moment down together. We traced it back. And what we found wasn’t surprising, but it was profound.
He didn’t pause.
He didn’t breathe.
He didn’t create space between the trigger and the response.
And in that space, where love could have entered, where compassion could have risen, something else took hold.
Something darker.
Pride, ego, a spirit of division that loves to rip two people apart and convince each of them that they’re the victim.
It wasn’t the yelling that opened the door. It was the moment before it, when he chose not to pause. When he let himself be consumed instead of curious.
That’s what I mean by the little things.
There’s a seduction to chaos.
To impulse.
We’ve romanticized “freedom” into a justification for our wounds to run the show. We call it empowerment, but often it’s escapism. Especially when it comes to sexuality.
Listen, I’m not here to shame anyone. I’ve lived it too.
I’ve opened up relationships in the name of “freedom.” I’ve said yes to things that my spirit said no to, because I didn’t want to be seen as insecure or controlling. I’ve confused permission with liberation. I’ve learned the hard way that not all explorations lead to expansion. Some lead to soul fragmentation. Some lead to spiritual entanglement.
Because sex isn’t casual.
It’s never casual.
It’s a spiritual act whether you believe in spirit or not. Just like gravity exists whether or not you believe in physics.
When you open yourself — your body, your energy field — you’re not just sharing fluids. You’re blending frequency. You’re taking on someone’s unresolved pain, their attachments, their lineage. If they’re carrying darkness, guess what?
Now you’re holding some too. And most people don’t even realize it, because they’re taught that “fun” is enough of a reason to open their most sacred places.
It’s not about shame.
It’s about sacredness.
And it’s about discernment.
There was a time I laughed at this kind of thing. Thought it was all religious fear-mongering. But now I see how spiritual principles run deep beneath all the surface distractions. How light and dark aren’t religious concepts — they’re energetic realities. We’re either aligning ourselves with life, truth, clarity, and connection — or with chaos, distortion, fragmentation, and control.
And again — it’s in the small things.
It’s in the moment you choose not to apologize when you know you were out of line, because pride whispers that vulnerability is weakness.
It’s in the sarcastic comment you make to your partner to get a quick jab in, because ego wants to win more than it wants to heal.
It’s in the “harmless” little flirty messages with someone who’s not yours, because you’re craving validation more than you’re committed to truth.
It’s all so subtle.
So daily.
So quiet.
And yet, over time, it forms the spiritual architecture of your life.
I’ve started paying attention to what I let in.
What I allow into my space, my home, my body, my thoughts.
What energies I’m feeding with my choices.
Here’s somethings to ponder with self…
Am I scrolling to connect — or to escape?
Am I having this conversation to seek truth — or to be right?
Am I drinking this glass of wine to celebrate — or to numb?
Am I opening this relationship because I’m grounded in love — or because I’m trying to fill a hole that was never meant to be filled by flesh?
It’s not about being perfect. God knows none of us are. But it is about becoming aware. Because awareness is what gives us back our power.
The more I pay attention, the more I feel the weight of the unseen.
The spirits that feed off confusion, off division, off despair. And the ones that feed off truth, devotion, intimacy, presence.
You don’t need to believe in demons to be affected by them. Just like you don’t need to believe in mold to get sick from it. You just need to be around it enough, long enough, for your body, or your soul, to start breaking down.
And conversely, you don’t need to be a saint to begin walking with the light.
You just need to become honest.
To slow down.
To observe.
To ask the hard questions, and listen for the quiet answers.
We’re all making choices every day. Sometimes out of pain, sometimes out of fear, sometimes out of freedom. But every choice is a seed. And every seed grows something.
I want to grow peace.
Love.
Real, heart-splitting love.
The kind that listens even when it’s hard. That says no even when it’s easier to say yes. That waits and breathes and moves slowly when the world is moving too fast.
I want to close every door I once opened in my unconsciousness. Not out of shame, but out of reverence.
Because I know now that I am a gate.
And so are you.
Let’s guard it better. Not out of fear of what might come in, but out of love for what we want to live inside us.
It starts small.
It always does.
But so do all the most beautiful things.
If something stirred in you while reading this — if you felt the quiet nudge, the knowing that somewhere along the way, you’ve let things in that don’t belong — then this is your moment to respond.
This isn’t about shame. It’s about sovereignty.
Join me for an Activation Call: “Closing the Unseen Doors”, where we’ll:
Shine light on the subtle agreements you may have made with energies that don’t serve your highest self
Walk through a clearing practice to renounce and release spiritual contracts made through unconscious choices
Reclaim sacred ground — your body, your voice, your boundaries, your relationships
And anchor into the daily practices that keep your gate protected and your spirit aligned
This is for you if you’ve ever said yes when your soul said no. If you’ve ever felt off and couldn’t explain why. If you’re ready to walk in more truth, more presence, and more spiritual authority.
Come as you are.
Leave with clarity.
Comment ACTIIVATON or DM me now!
As always loving you from here,
—
This post was previously published on medium.com.
***
Does dating ever feel challenging, awkward or frustrating?
Turn Your Dating Life into a WOW! with our new classes and live coaching.
Click here for more info or to buy with special launch pricing!
***
—–
Photo credit: Rene’ Schooler(Author)
