Things That Make Me Go WTF After My Spiritual Awakening

Let me start with this: it’s not the first time I’ve felt like an alien. Honestly, I suspect I’ve felt that way my whole life. There were at least two other moments when I went through what I now recognize as smaller awakenings. Quiet internal shifts, survival upgrades born from trauma. They were intense but weirdly peaceful. Almost like something inside me wrapped itself around my chest and whispered, You’re safe for a minute. That’s what awakening felt like back then.

This time? This time was pure chaos. The kind of awakening that blows the wiring off your nervous system and tells you, “Up-level, girl,” while your life burns in the background. And yes, it started with a breakup. Save the judgment. Venus and Chiron in the 7th house,  you know the drill. Once again the same loop appeared: losing myself in the idea of a man. Not the actual man, but his potential. The fantasy of one who found me “too much.” Too intense, too emotional, too everything.

And here’s the important part: this awakening didn’t erase my wounds, it exposed them. It forced me to stop bypassing my own pain and actually deal with what was underneath. I hit the end of the rope.

So I did what any mystic having an existential crisis would do: I disappeared. Deleted every social app. Changed my number. Removed nearly 600 contacts. Then went straight into shadow work. I questioned my masks, the characters I’d built, the entire inner cast running the show. I even created my own emotional pantheon, giving each feeling a name, a voice, a personality. Some people would call that madness. I call it research.

Somewhere between depression and emptiness, creativity came back. So did the will to live. I could almost hear my soul exhale, Finally. I’ve been waiting for you to show up.

And that’s how The Spiral Way began: slowly, in dreams, through intuition, and through the very practical realization that I needed to build the kind of space I never had. A place for people who want to grow without pretending. Souls who don’t want to bypass anything, who would rather be real than perform enlightened.

The Birth of The Spiral Way

Eventually the vision crystallized: the three pillars that kept showing up everywhere I turned. Shadow Work. Human Design. Embodiment. Not as a religion or a shortcut. As tools. As maps. As mirrors.

And I started building everything myself. My website from scratch. My own content. The videos, the stories, all the uncomfortable exposure. Showing yourself before you feel ready should count as a spiritual practice of its own. I’m still figuring out the digital world, the algorithm, and that soft, persistent fear that shows up every time you post something honest. My small mantra when the shame hits is simple: be real. Whoever resonates will find you.

But it’s not effortless. Perfectionism still taps my shoulder. Comparison still stings. The urge to quit still visits. Every time I keep going, it feels like a quiet revolution,  the kind that doesn’t need an audience.

The Body, the Soul, and the Return to Sensitivity

October and November hit me like a tropical storm. I tapered off antidepressants. Quit vaping. Stopped drinking. I became hyper-aware of everything I consumed, food, energy, content, people. And all at once, I became the sensitive child I was before life told me to mute myself.

Now I feel everything. Sound, light, texture. People’s emotions before they speak. Shifts in the room. Movements at the edge of perception. And here’s where I ground this: part of that sensitivity is spiritual, yes, but part of it is simply my nervous system recalibrating after years of survival mode. Both matter. Both are real.

After my past-life regression, the old fear made sense. Why I’d spent years silencing my gifts. Now it feels different. I’m using them consciously, grounded, without floating away from the human aspects of healing.

What Helps When I Feel Like I’m Glitching in Real Life

Things that anchor me when awakening feels like being ChatGPT with emotions:

• Water

  Always my safe place. Cold in the summer, warm in the winter. Water pulls me back into sensation. If I can’t touch it, I imagine it. It works surprisingly well.

• Nature

  For me, the river. Grass. Trees. Sometimes I hug one and pretend not to care who’s watching. Nature resets me. It reminds me I’m not a cosmic error; I’m part of the ecosystem.

• Meditation

  Messy, guided, silent, in the shower,  doesn’t matter. The point isn’t to “transcend thought.” The point is to notice it. To come back. To practice. Meditation isn’t bypassing,  it’s sitting with yourself without trying to escape.

• Movement

  Dance, stretch, walk, yoga, skating. Anything that gets me out of my mind and back into the body, where truth actually lives.

• Being Yourself

  And yes, compassion. Grace. Humanity. Rest when you need to, spiritually awakened people aren’t lightbulbs.  Plants don’t bloom year-round. Neither should we. Awakening isn’t floating above the human experience; it’s learning to inhabit it more honestly.

Final Notes from the Spiral

Small steps take you farther than any perfect five-year plan. Change is constant. You are shifting every day. So yes, you’re allowed to pause, pivot, reroute. You’re not losing yourself, you’re remembering.

And if at any point you feel like you’re glitching, sliding dimensions in the shower, or vibrating at a weird frequency… congratulations. That’s not escaping reality,  that’s engaging with it in a new way.

Not your guru.
Not your savior.
Just your equally weird neighbor figuring out this lifetime too.

Maybe not just feeling like an alien anymore but remembering I’ve always been one.

With love,
Maria Luisa.