Remembering Your Light: You Were Never Lost

Nine years ago, I had a near-death experience that altered the trajectory of my life. For a brief moment, I touched something beyond words—a radiant, boundless light that wrapped me in an indescribable sense of peace. It felt like home. It felt like everything. And then, I came back.

At first, I tried to make sense of it. I told myself it was just science. That’s what happens when the brain is deprived of oxygen and blood flow, I reasoned. I intellectualized it, dismissing the experience as a physiological response rather than something real. But no matter how much I tried to rationalize, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had touched something profound—something truer than anything I had ever known.

Yet, as time went on, life felt heavier. The bliss of that moment faded, and I felt the weight of the world pressing down on me. I was stuck in the stress of everyday life, going through the motions but feeling like something was missing. I didn’t know what it was—I only knew that I felt disconnected, like I had lost something vital.

And then, two years later, everything changed.

The Moment I Remembered

I was watching my two-year-old daughter twirl and play, her little face beaming with pure joy. She sparkled in a way that felt so familiar, like something I used to know but had long forgotten. As I watched her, I started praying that she would never lose that light inside her—the way I felt I had lost mine.

And then, it hit me.

I didn’t have to believe I had lost it.

That light—the joy, the presence, the peace I had experienced in that near-death moment—wasn’t something external. It wasn’t something that had been taken from me. It had been there all along. I had just buried it under stress, self-doubt, responsibility, and everything I thought I had to be. That lightness of being, that twirling energy—it was still inside me. I had just forgotten how to access it.

You Haven’t Lost Your Spark—You Just Forgot Where to Look

So many of us move through life feeling like we’ve lost something essential. Maybe you used to be full of life, excitement, and wonder, but now you just feel heavy. You’re not alone.

But here’s what I want you to know: You haven’t lost your light. You don’t need to find it—it’s already there, underneath all the layers of expectation, stress, and self-doubt. The only thing standing between you and that light is the belief that you’ve lost it.

How to Remember Your Light

If you feel disconnected from yourself, here are three steps to help you reconnect to the light within you:

1. Look for the Moments That Spark Joy

Joy isn’t something you have to earn—it’s something you remember. Start noticing the moments when you feel alive. Maybe it’s when you’re laughing with a friend, listening to music, or watching the sunset. Those moments are clues. They remind you of who you are underneath all the noise. Let them in.

2. Practice Presence

That light you’re looking for? It lives in the now. Not in the past, not in the future—right here, in this moment. Meditation, breathwork, and mindfulness aren’t just practices; they are doorways back to your natural state. Even just pausing to take a deep breath and fully be where you are can reconnect you to yourself.

3. Let Go of the Story That Says You’re Lost

You are not broken. You are not missing something. The only thing keeping you from your light is the belief that you’re separate from it. Challenge that belief. Ask yourself: What if I was never lost? What if my light has been here all along? Because it has.

Coming Home to Yourself

The moment I watched my daughter twirl and realized I could still access that same joy, I stopped searching for something outside of myself. I stopped believing that I had to find my way back. Instead, I just had to remember. And so do you.

You were never lost. Your light was never gone. It’s been waiting for you all along.

All you have to do is turn inward and remember:

The Light You Are

You were never the body,
never the breath,
never the fleeting ache of time.
You were the silence between heartbeats,
the vastness beneath thought,
the watcher behind the sky of your mind.

The light you saw was never a place,
but the space before words,
the stillness before movement,
the love before longing.
It was not beyond you,
but within—
beneath the weight of your name,
beneath the stories you carried,
beneath the world you were taught to believe in.

And now,
you walk between two worlds—
form and formless,
gravity and grace,
human and holy.
To be here is to feel,
to ache, to laugh, to long.
To be beyond is to witness,
to love without condition,
to rest in the eternal now.

You are both.
The one who walks,
and the one who watches.
The hands that touch,
and the light that illuminates.
The moment that passes,
and the presence that never leaves.

There is nothing to chase.
Nothing to reach.
Only the remembering—
that the light was never lost.
It was always you.