I thought my gift should bring sparks.
I thought that the one thing I was meant to do with my life would flood me with bliss and euphoria every time I did it—
It didn’t.
My gifts helped me process. They brought peace. But I didn’t see them as “gifts.”
I kept waiting. Waiting for a voice from above to bellow out my direction.
I didn’t trust that my nudges, interests, and quiet whispers were the inspiration.
The only block has been me—because I’ve been a slave to certainty instead of nuance.
I always had a problem with sugar. I remember stealing restaurant sugar packets and hiding to eat them in private. This insatiability spread into other areas of my life. I was always looking for something to make me feel good– sugar was the easiest to attain and the easiest to hide if I was emotionally spiraling. I took this feeling with me in my ideas about my career. Shouldn’t I feel high? Like I’m lost in the sauce for hours? But it has been a slow-release. A slow build leading to alignment.
I had to sit in bed and really come to terms with something:
My magic is in my consistency.
I know what happens if I keep moving forward. I’ve seen the pattern.
Sometimes the “magic” doesn’t feel like magic until later—
When things finally come together after building in small, quiet ways.
I wasn’t seeing the beauty of things developing.
Maybe because I wasn’t doing them consistently.
But then I started vlogging.
I’d pick up the camera when I felt led—not because I was 100% convinced I should.
I just had this sense deep down that it would all come together, that it would matter somehow.
Even when I didn’t see it, I followed that urge.
And when life happened and I couldn’t record, I gave myself grace.
But I always tried to come back to it, to speak from the heart.
As I edit now, I see myself more clearly.
I see the person who is trying.
Who is tired.
Who is still showing up.
I see that the magic was in the repetition.
That even when I couldn’t see the outcome, I could trust myself enough to just do it.
To give myself the chance to believe—even without clarity.
And now, as I piece together these clips, I see beauty in both the process and the final composition.
The magic came from me being me.
Showing up.
Being alive.
Being aware.
I’ve learned that sometimes, meaningful work feels mundane, unsure, quiet, and messy.
But it’s still beautiful.
I used to chase a feeling.
I’d delay decisions, ponder, and wait—because I believed that clarity would arrive before movement.
That there would be some cosmic sign lighting the way.
But really, the desire for certainty came from fear.
Fear of not knowing if I was going the “right” way.
Fear that my desires might not be “pure” or in service to others.
Fear that I was being selfish for wanting something so different from what I saw around me.
I thought a confirmation would make me move forward with confidence.
But what I really needed was a shift in belief:
I had to believe in the vision now, even if the present felt cloudy.
Movement brings clarity.
Just like when you step back and look at your life in retrospect,
And realize everything you’ve lived has led to this moment.
That realization gives you the confidence to keep going.
Vlogging helped me see that.
By living my life with awareness, I am walking the soul’s journey.
And that journey is a creative process.
Living is creation in action.
It just takes waking up and remembering:
Everything you do is sacred.
We’ve been programmed to believe that things have to look a certain way to be important.
But being alone with myself can be just as holy as being in a pew.
The vlogs showed me that.
They gave me evidence of my sacred existence.
They helped me see that even in confusion, as I composed each video, it was all meaningful.
Nashema's Blog 