zenvo

[kestrokes-blog]

Today I realized that many of my struggles are not asking to be solved as much as they are asking to be held from a deeper level of consciousness. I prayed not for the removal of desire, uncertainty, or difficulty, but for the spiritual maturity to move them from the shallow waters of ego into the deeper waters of Spirit. There, I may loosen my grip on what feels urgent in the moment and remember that the same divine intelligence that has guided my life through the macro seasons is also present in the micro moments unfolding right now.

[kestrokes-blog]

Be Careful What You Call “Realistic”

People often treat the word realistic as if it’s a virtue. It carries a quiet authority—something mature, grounded, responsible. If a goal is called unrealistic, the conversation usually ends there. The label itself becomes the conclusion.

But it’s worth asking a deeper question: what exactly are we calling realistic?

Sometimes what we label as realism is simply a reflection of the environment we’re surrounded by. The expectations of our peers. The caution of people who have learned to protect themselves from disappointment. The collective ceiling that forms when a group quietly agrees on what is “possible.”

Over time, that ceiling starts to feel like common sense.

Yet there’s another possibility worth considering: what we call realism may actually be pessimism wearing the mask of discernment.

When people say something isn’t realistic, they’re often describing what they have seen work before. Or more precisely, what they have seen fail. Their definition of realism is built from observation of the world as it currently exists, not from the potential that might exist within a focused individual.

The problem with that approach is simple. Most meaningful achievements initially look unrealistic to the people who aren’t pursuing them.

Reality has a strange relationship with effort. What feels like idealism at the beginning often becomes the obvious outcome in hindsight—but only after someone commits to the long process of bringing it into existence.

This is where the definition of realism begins to change.

Realism isn’t just about what currently exists. It’s about what can be created through sustained attention and consistent energy. When someone chooses a direction and returns to it day after day, the gap between idealism and reality begins to close.

What once felt ambitious starts to look inevitable.

The real danger, then, isn’t dreaming too big. The greater risk is quietly lowering the bar because the world around you seems to have settled for less.

If your definition of realism is built solely from external observation, you may unintentionally inherit the limits of the people around you. Their experiences become your ceiling. Their caution becomes your restraint.

But there is another reference point available.

You can also measure what’s realistic against your own capacity for focus, discipline, and persistence. Against the version of yourself that emerges when your energy is consistently directed toward something meaningful.

From that perspective, realism becomes much more personal. It’s no longer defined by the average outcome of the crowd. It’s defined by the trajectory of a committed individual.

In other words, realism is not just about what you see around you.

It’s also about what you see within you.

So the real question isn’t simply whether a goal is realistic. The better question is whether you’re willing to give it the level of attention, time, and energy required to make it real.

Because once that commitment is made, the line between idealism and realism starts to blur.

And more often than not, the things people once called unrealistic begin to look exactly like reality.

[kestrokes-blog]

Who Am I?

A First Contemplation on Identity and the Creative Nature of Awareness

Most people answer the question “Who am I?” with the most immediate identifiers available to them. They might state their name, describe their profession, reference their age, or speak about their background and experiences. These answers feel natural because they reflect the social and personal categories through which we organize our lives.

However, if we examine those answers more carefully, something interesting begins to emerge. Your name cannot truly be you, because it was given to you. Your profession cannot be you either, because it can change. Your personality evolves over time as you learn, mature, and adapt to new circumstances. Even your body, which often feels like the most obvious candidate for identity, is constantly changing at a biological level. Yet despite all of these changes, there remains a persistent sense that you are still you.

This raises a deeper question: if the elements of identity we commonly reference are all capable of changing, what is the constant that remains behind them?

One way to approach this question is to consider human experience as occurring simultaneously across three distinct but interconnected planes: the physical plane, the intellectual plane, and the spiritual plane. These planes are not meant to be understood strictly in religious terms; rather, they represent layers through which our experience of life unfolds.

The physical plane refers to the material world. It includes our bodies, our environment, and the events that occur in time and space. This is the level at which we interact with objects, perform actions, and experience the direct consequences of physical cause and effect.

The intellectual plane represents the realm of the mind. Thoughts, reasoning, interpretation, imagination, beliefs, memory, and language all exist here. This is the layer through which we make sense of our experiences and develop internal models of the world.

Then there is the spiritual plane, which can be understood most simply as Awareness itself. It is the fundamental capacity to observe experience. You are aware of your thoughts. You are aware of sensations in your body. You are aware of the environment around you. That Awareness precedes the content of what is being experienced.

This distinction matters because anything that can be observed cannot ultimately be what you are. You can observe your body, which means the body exists within your Awareness. You can observe your thoughts, which means thoughts also exist within your awareness. Even emotions and beliefs can be noticed, examined, and changed over time.

What remains constant through all of this is the observer—the quiet but undeniable sense of presence that experiences these changing elements.

In this framework, human identity can be understood as follows: we are Awareness operating through a mind within a physical world. Awareness sits at the deepest layer. The mind functions as the interface through which Awareness interprets experience. The body and environment form the arena in which actions take place.

Many people unconsciously reverse this order. They assume they are primarily physical beings who occasionally have thoughts and perhaps touch something spiritual. But when examined carefully, experience suggests a different hierarchy. First there is Awareness. That Awareness expresses itself through the intellectual faculties of the mind. Through the mind, it acts within the physical environment.

Recognizing this structure naturally leads to another important question: if we are fundamentally Awareness, how does that Awareness influence or shape the reality we experience?

Awareness does not interact with the physical world directly. Instead, it operates through the intellectual plane. The mind serves as the intermediary through which Awareness engages with the world. Thoughts, interpretations, expectations, and beliefs form the lens through which we perceive and respond to the environment.

This lens plays a powerful role in shaping our experience. Two individuals may encounter the same circumstances but interpret them in entirely different ways. One person may perceive limitation, while another sees opportunity. Although the external situation is identical, the internal interpretation changes how each person responds to it.

Over time, these interpretations influence behavior. Beliefs affect what we pay attention to, what risks we are willing to take, and how we respond to setbacks or opportunities. Behavior then produces outcomes, and those outcomes gradually reshape the environment we inhabit.

In this way, Awareness influences reality through a chain of influence: Awareness shapes the mind, the mind shapes behavior, and behavior shapes physical outcomes.

An especially important capability within the intellectual plane is imagination. Imagination allows the mind to simulate possibilities before they exist in physical form. Athletes visualize their performance before competing. Architects imagine structures before they are built. Entrepreneurs picture solutions before companies are formed.

Through imagination, Awareness can explore potential futures and rehearse identities before they manifest physically. The ideas we consistently return to, the expectations we reinforce, and the identities we mentally inhabit begin to shape how we move through the world. As our behavior shifts in alignment with those internal patterns, the external conditions of our lives gradually evolve as well.

Understanding the interaction of these three planes offers a useful perspective on personal change. Many attempts to change life focus exclusively on the physical layer—on altering circumstances or external conditions. While those efforts can certainly matter, they often overlook the deeper leverage that exists within the intellectual plane and the Awareness behind it.

By examining our beliefs, questioning our assumptions, and becoming conscious of the mental patterns that guide our perception, we begin working at a more foundational level of influence.

This returns us to the original question.

Who am I?

At the deepest level, you are not merely a name, a profession, or a body moving through events. You are the Awareness that experiences thoughts, emotions, and physical sensations while directing a mind that operates within the world.

And as Awareness becomes more conscious of itself, it gains the ability to shape the patterns of thought that influence behavior and ultimately shape reality itself.

Understanding this may be the beginning of living less as a passive reactor to circumstances and more as an intentional participant in the unfolding of one's own life.

[kestrokes-blog]

Manifestation Isn’t About Forcing.  It’s About Allowing.

When most people think of manifestation, they imagine a process that requires hustle, constant visualization, or some form of metaphysical elbow grease. There's often an implicit assumption that more effort equals more results — and that if you’re not seeing results, you’re probably not doing it right.

But what if manifestation isn’t a linear equation determined by input-output? 

What if it’s not even about "doing" in the traditional sense, but rather unblocking the energy submerged deep within the act of desiring itself?

What if the whole point is to get out of your own way?

The Problem with "Letting Go"

Spiritual teachers often say, “You have to let go of limiting beliefs.” A frustratingly vague phrase. How does one let go of something invisible, baked into the subconscious, and directly woven into how we see the world?

Telling someone to "let go" of what they can't fully see or name can feel like a cruel riddle.

So I’ve been meditating on a different approach —one that doesn’t involve wrestling with our beliefs, but instead transcends them by sheer allowance.

“Let There Be Light” — The Power of Letting

Although I don't view myself as religious, I enjoy cross-referencing multiple spiritual structures to synthesize holistic insights.

In the Christian tradition, the creation story starts with a profound line:

"Let there be light."

There’s no force. No worry. No doubt. No negotiation.

Just an unwavering declaration of what is to be.

This isn’t passive language. It’s a creative command. To "let" implies that what we want, in turn, wants us. It's something already intended to happen, regardless of our efforts. We’re simply giving it permission to emerge in form.

So what if, as creations made in the image of "The Creator", we applied that tone — that same calm creative certainty — to our own desires?

Let there be abundance.

Let there be love.

Let there be a thriving relationship with my daughter.

Let there be clarity in my work.

Let there be a multi-million dollar home by the ocean, filled with peace and play.

These aren’t hopes. They’re not pleadings. They are portals. Invitations without resistance.

Not Doing Less — Just Not Doing Against

This approach isn’t about sitting on the couch all day waiting for miracles.

It’s about non-resistance.

It's about interrupting the inherent belief that your desire is separate from you.

It's about creating space for your mental models to reshape themselves in accordance with your ideal.

And it’s that shift — from opposition to allowance — that changes everything.

The Law of Assumption as Divine Allowance

The Law of Assumption teaches us that reality conforms to what we assume to be true. But instead of straining to "believe harder," this reframe shows us a gentler way:

Assume by letting.

You don’t have to convince yourself of anything. You simply stop arguing with residuals from past beliefs and old circumstances.

When a limiting thought arises, you don’t debate it. You don’t suppress it. You don’t panic.

You return to your tone. To your God-given permission slip as a Divine Being. As a human.

Let. There. Be.

A New Mantra for the Manifestor

Let this become a living prayer:

Let there be wealth through aligned value.

Let there be time freedom through seamless provision.

Let there be peace in all timelines.

Let there be me, fully embodied.

So...

The next time tension creeps in — whether it’s doubt, urgency, or emotional pressure — treat it like a gentle cue.

Not to fix, push or analyze.

But to find a glimpse of the truth, that opposition as it appears in the mind stems from a Self that forgot its rights. And that opposition fades away in the face of permission.

Let the contraction become an invitation.

If you feel scarcity, let there be abundance. If you feel alone, let there be communion. If you feel stuck, let there be momentum.

This isn’t just mindset work. It’s soul training. A critical thinking practice in the language of trust, surrender, and faith.

Every moment becomes an opportunity to exercise your imagination, not as fantasy, but as creative permission.

Let there be the world you know is already yours.

And let that knowing grow.

[kestrokes-blog]

Not yet realized ≠ Not yet Real

Everything forms from field. Keep going.

[kestrokes-blog]

Matter is but ink on the pages of existence, from which the mind is the pen… guided by the hand of consciousness.

[kestrokes-blog]

Without imagination, you’re bound to repeat history. With it, you become its author.

[kestrokes-blog]

Lazy Ain’t Real

Let’s be honest—how often do we call ourselves lazy and just accept it as truth? No deeper investigation. No curiosity. Just a quick label, a little guilt, and a quiet retreat into the same inaction we were already struggling with.

We use the word “lazy” like it’s a character trait. Like it says something final about who we are. But what if it doesn’t? What if most of the time, the word "lazy" is just the mind's shorthand for something it doesn't yet understand?

When I say "lazy ain't real," I’m not saying inaction doesn’t happen. I’m saying the label is cheap. It bypasses understanding and skips the part where we get to be human. And when we do that—when we shame ourselves into action or surrender—we usually end up doing more damage than good or creating the illusion of progress that isn't truly sustainable. Because beneath most "laziness" lies one of three things:

1. Fear

Sometimes we stall because we’re scared. Not always in a dramatic way. It can be quiet. Subtle. You’re scared the effort won’t pay off. Scared you won’t measure up. Scared you’ll care too much and still fall short. So instead of taking the next step, you convince yourself you don’t care at all. You check out before the game even starts. But calling it "lazy" masks what you really need—reassurance, vision, or maybe just permission to be new at something.

2. Fatigue

This one gets overlooked way too often. You think you’re lazy when you’re actually just tired. Tired in your body, tired in your spirit. Burned out from effort that hasn’t yet born fruit. Worn down from pushing through things you never got to properly grieve. Sometimes the default program in our mind says, "You should be doing more," even when the body is whispering, "Please, not yet."

I remember training like an animal—5 gym days a week, running 10+ miles, staying locked in on my vision—all while emotionally navigating some real-life pain trying to reconnect with my daughter. I hit a wall I didn’t see coming. Couldn’t focus. Couldn’t move the same. And the voice in my head said, "You’re falling off. You’re being lazy." But that wasn’t it. I just needed rest on a level I wasn’t connected to yet.

3. Lack of Clarity

When the path isn’t clear, the body doesn’t move. You’re not lazy—you’re undecided. And indecision feels like inertia. If you haven’t taken time to reconnect with your "why," or you’re overwhelmed by too many open loops, of course you’ll freeze. Of course you'll hesitate. Most people don't realize how much internal conflict they're carrying until silence finally gives it space to speak.

This is where vision matters. Not the vague, feel-good kind that only lives in a journal but the kind that serves as a true north—a stabilizing mental image of the life you are actively shaping. Vision is a feature of our meta-cognitive ability: it allows us to hold complexity, tension, and possibility all at once. When you're deeply connected to that kind of vision, clarity becomes less about "having the perfect plan" and more about being able to keep moving forward with grace even when the terrain gets muddy.

The danger of calling yourself lazy is that it becomes a spiritual attack on your own effort. You go from being someone who feels stuck to someone who is stuck by identity. And from there, it’s easy to slide into despair. A little self-judgment turns into a shutdown. And the shutdown turns into another missed moment you were supposed to meet yourself with grace.

So here’s the shift:

Stop calling it lazy. Start getting curious. Ask:

What am I avoiding?

What feels too heavy?

What clarity am I missing?

What am I feeling that I haven’t named?

When you approach yourself with questions instead of condemnation, the fog usually lifts. Or at the very least, you start to see what kind of weather you’re in.

The default program will always want to oversimplify. It will say, "You’re lazy." But that’s not true.

You’re layered. You’re complex. You’re in motion—even when it looks like you’re not.

And most of all: You’re still on your way. And what you're on your way to is also on its way to you.

Let that be enough today.

[kestrokes-blog]

Slippery

I’ve chased my peace like it owed me rent,

Pressed joy into shape, ‘til the moment bent.

I’ve whispered commands to the sky and stars,

Then checked my phone for delivery from Mars.

I learned to feel good “just because,” day after day

Subtly, unconsciously still peeking to see if it’d pay.

I smiled like a monk, calm on the surface…

Then side-eyed God like, “Was all this on purpose?”

Trying to cup magic like it’s grains of sand,

It’s like I’m gripping soap with a desperate hand.

Too tight—it flies. Too loose—it slips.

Truth lives in the hush between grasp and grip.

So now I breathe and let desire rest,

Knowing my signal is what life reads best.

No scoreboard check, no mirror test;

Just me, embodied, becoming my own yes.

Because power is quiet, and trust doesn’t shout.

It hums through my body as my breath ripples out.

I’m not here to force, I’m here to allow.

To hold it like soap: gentle and mindful of the ever-present now.

[kestrokes-blog]

Inviting Contrast: Wholeness Over Perfection

For a long time, I thought healing meant cleaning myself up.. getting everything aligned, orderly, resolved. I thought the goal was to land on one clear version of myself that finally made sense. But what I’ve been learning to live with is that wholeness has very little to do with perfection.

It’s messier than that. It’s more honest than that. It includes contrast.

And now, I’m starting to see contrast not as something to fix or fight, but as a partner in my expansion. Something sacred. Something necessary.

The Tension That Teaches

There’s always been a tension in me I couldn’t quite dissolve. The man I strive to become and the one life keeps shaping in spite of my efforts—they’re not always the same. And honestly, that used to frustrate me. I’d set plans, act with discipline, push forward and still here life comes, with something to redirect me, humble me, slow me down.

But I’m learning to hold that gap with more grace.

That tension is the work. That friction is the fire. And the more I try to escape it, the more I fragment myself. But when I stay in it, I notice something powerful:

Life isn’t punishing me. It’s showing me. Expanding me. Inviting more of me to the table.

Embracing Contradiction

I’ve never been called a walking contradiction out loud. But in my own mind, I used to fear that I was one. Not because of what others would think—but because I didn’t want to betray myself. I thought if I held opposing desires, or if I acted out of alignment with my ideals, it meant I was being a hypocrite.

But over time, I’ve realized: the contradictions that show up in my life aren’t indictments. They’re invitations.

Yes, I can be deeply spiritual and still deeply ambitious. Yes, I can lead with logic but still lean into intuition. Yes, I crave stillness, but I train like a warrior. Yes, I value order and yet I’m shaped most in the chaos.

These tensions don’t mean I’m fragmented. They mean I’m layered. Human. Whole.

The contradiction isn’t a flaw, it’s a fingerprint layered with the uniqueness that makes me, Me. It’s the evidence that I’m expanding.

The Shadow’s Request

I’ve also had to make peace with my shadow. Not just the “dark” parts I’d rather not face, but the subtle projections I cast onto others—the judgments, the comparisons, the places where I unconsciously punish others for things I haven’t accepted in myself.

That awareness is humbling. But it’s also freeing.

Because now, when discomfort shows up—through resistance, jealousy, confusion—I ask:

What part of me is this trying to bring back home?

Sometimes, wholeness doesn’t feel like light. It feels like a wound reopening so it can heal correctly this time. And that process? It rarely arrives on schedule when you think you’re ready, but it’s always on time for when you need to be; because healing doesn’t knock first.

It comes when you’re not looking.

A word you didn’t know you needed to hear. A silence that softens your heart. A rip in your reality you didn’t expect. A moment that breaks your plan but rebuilds your path.

These moments don’t tidy things up. They remind you: You’re being guided. Even when you’re confused. Even when you’re cracked open... especially when you're cracked open.

Choosing Wholeness Daily

If you’re like me—if you’re learning to hold the opposites, to make room for both your grit and your softness, your plans and your surrender—then it's time for you to know:

You’re not here to be perfect. You’re here to be whole.

And wholeness includes contradiction. It includes course correction. It includes you changing your mind after you swore you were sure. It includes letting go of timelines and leaning into trust, peace, patience; SURRENDER.

It includes loving the individual you are while still becoming the one you see.

I don’t have it all figured out. I probably never will. (that's the point right?) But I know this: When I stopped fighting the contrast, I started expanding.

Not because I mastered everything, but because I finally made room for all of me to show up.

And the grace that erupted from that shift is what I want to keep choosing, every day.

[kestrokes-blog]

The System Is Real Enough to Trap You, But Not Real Enough to Free You

It’s wild how real the current system feels—how "solid" it seems when you’re moving through the motions of life. You wake up, check your bank app, answer Slack messages, pay your bills, watch your 401(k) go up or down. All of it feels like something you can touch, something you can trust.

But when you zoom out far enough—when you pull back the curtain just a bit—you realize how much of it is engineered. It's a layered reality, built on top of natural principles like time, scarcity, and energy, but repackaged in man-made wrappers designed for control, compliance, and illusion.

The fiat system, in particular, stands out. It's the default. The dollar is what most people think of when they think "money," yet it's backed by nothing but consensus, coercion, and constant debasement. It feels real because everyone around you is still plugged into it. But when you stop measuring value in fiat terms, you start to see how fake it really is.

And what makes it dangerous isn't that it's fake—it's that it's functionally real. It's just real enough to trap you: to get you to defer your dreams, delay your freedom, and sign up for a 40-year plan in hopes that the rules won’t change before you cash out. Spoiler alert: they always do.

The system incentivizes you to lock up your capital in things like 401(k)s, IRAs, and "tax-advantaged" accounts. But when you look deeper, you see those tools aren't about optimizing your freedom. They're about controlling your access. You're being incentivized to save in a currency that loses value, inside a structure that penalizes you for exiting early, and inside a world where inflation isn't a bug—it's a feature.

So here I am, watching all of this play out, knowing that by the time I hit "retirement age," I won't be looking to convert my Bitcoin back to fiat. I won't be hoping the government kept its promises or that the system still resembles what it does now. I'm building toward a future where I transact in Bitcoin directly, peer-to-peer, in a world that doesn't require permission or apology to use your own money.

I know how it sounds. And yeah, I feel a little crazy when I try to explain this to people who are still fully in the matrix. I sound like I’m living in the future. And maybe I am. But I’d rather live in a version of the future that I chose, not one engineered to keep me running in circles.

This isn't about being against the system. It's about being free from it. The system is real enough to trap you. But it will never be real enough to free you.

Only you can do that.

[kestrokes-blog]

“Sound money realigns us with reality. It removes the distortion of endless inflation and reminds us that value is not created through excess, but preserved through principle. In this return to truth, the mind stops running—and begins to rest in the present, where enough is finally felt, not chased.”

[kestrokes-blog]

“

Contemplation fuels insight and expands the mind, but overthinking runs in circles; Ultimately trapping the mind. The key is awareness—knowing when to shift from thinking to being, from analysis to presence.

”

[kestrokes-blog]

Overthinking is not a mark of intelligence, responsibility, or care—it is a symptom of insecurity. It masquerades as preparation but ultimately prevents action. It promises control but delivers anxiety. The key to overcoming overthinking is to recognize it for what it is: a fear response rooted in self-doubt. By shifting the mindset, embracing uncertainty, and trusting in one’s ability to adapt, individuals can break free from the paralysis of overthinking and move forward with clarity and confidence. Life is meant to be lived, not endlessly analyzed.

[kestrokes-blog]

Doubt is Not the Opposite of Certainty—It’s a Companion

We’re taught to believe that doubt and certainty are opposites, that one must be eliminated for the other to exist. But if you wait for doubt to disappear before moving forward, you’ll never move at all.

Doubt is not the enemy. Doubt is a mechanism—an awareness tool designed to highlight risks, possibilities, and unseen variables. Its job is to bring attention to potential missteps. But here’s where most people get stuck: they treat doubt as a decision-maker instead of a data point. They assume that the presence of doubt means they should wait, think, or gather more proof before acting.

And that’s where stagnation begins.

Seeking Clarity Becomes a Delay Tactic

We trick ourselves into thinking that seeking more clarity is productive. We tell ourselves:

“I just need to think this through a little more.”

“Maybe I should wait for the right moment.”

“Let me gather some more information before I commit.”

But clarity does not eliminate doubt. In fact, the more you seek clarity, the stronger doubt becomes. The mind finds more reasons to hesitate, not fewer.

If you want to move forward in life—whether it’s a career shift, an investment decision, or a commitment to your long-term vision—you have to understand this fundamental truth:

Certainty does not come from proof. It comes from decision.

Doubt will always be there. Waiting for its absence is like waiting for the ocean to stop having waves before you step in. You don’t need stillness to swim—you need skill in navigating the current.

Certainty is Not the Absence of Doubt—It’s the Acceptance of It

Most people think that to be certain means to feel no hesitation. That’s a myth.

Certainty is not a feeling—it’s a choice.

Certainty is not about ignoring doubt—it’s about letting doubt inform you without letting it stop you.

Doubt makes you aware of risks, but certainty is the willingness to accept those risks and act anyway.

That’s the difference between those who stay stuck in “thinking about it” and those who move forward. The people who succeed—whether in business, finance, fitness, or personal growth—are not the ones who never feel doubt. They’re the ones who learn to carry doubt without letting it weigh them down.

Using Doubt, Not Being Used By It

Instead of seeing doubt as an enemy, see it as a checkpoint. When doubt arises, ask:

What risk is doubt making me aware of?

Does this risk fundamentally change my decision, or is it just fear disguised as logic?

What action allows me to move forward with awareness, rather than hesitation?

The goal isn’t to eliminate doubt. The goal is to use it without being used by it.

Doubt Will Always Be in the Room—The Question is Who’s in Charge

Doubt isn’t going anywhere. It will always whisper in the background. The key is deciding whether it’s a helpful consultant or an overbearing authority in your life.

Next time doubt arises, don’t fight it. Don’t wait for it to leave. Just acknowledge it, take what’s useful from it, and then make your move.

Because doubt isn’t meant to stop you. It’s just meant to remind you to be intentional.

And certainty isn’t about erasing doubt. It’s about making the decision anyway.

[kestrokes-blog]

napa with my love.

[kestrokes-blog]

#napa