Rhythm of Divine Belonging: How Malibu's Waves Healed My Fractured Spirit

In the quiet moments between heartbeats, there exists a profound truth that connects us all—a cosmic thread weaving through the fabric of our seemingly separate lives. Yet sometimes, that thread feels impossibly frayed, as it did on that misty Malibu evening in 2017, when the universe delivered an unexpected lesson in belonging.

I remember the weight of the coastal air as I navigated the winding canyon roads, my car hugging each curve as if understanding my need for something solid to hold onto. "Waves" by Mr. Probz filled the space around me, the lyrics about being washed away mirroring the emotional undertow I couldn't yet name. The synchronicity wasn't lost on me—driving toward a fitness class meant to strengthen my physical vessel while my spirit felt increasingly untethered.

That's when I saw them—silhouettes against the hazy shoreline, a gathering of souls I recognized instantly. Friends, wrapped in blankets against the evening chill, scattered among sleeping bags that had clearly been set for the night ahead. Firecrackers lay beside them, evidence of celebration, of shared moments under stars beginning to emerge. The recognition hit me with the force of the waves crashing nearby—this was a sleepover, a communion of spirits on sacred ground, and I hadn't been invited.

The comfortable limitations I had constructed around my life suddenly felt like prison walls rather than protection. Perhaps you've experienced similar moments of clarity that simultaneously terrify and liberate. The ache of exclusion swept through me with tsunami force, and I pulled over, unable to continue the physical journey while my inner landscape was so violently reshaping itself.

I cried then—deeply, fully, without reservation. Not the measured tears we allow ourselves in public spaces, but the soul-cleansing sobs that come when something fundamental is shifting within us. Each tear carried years of similar moments—times when the invitation never came, when the circle formed without leaving space for me. I cried for the child within who still believed that worthiness was determined by external validation. I cried until the windows fogged with the heat of my release, until my eyes burned and my throat felt raw with truth.

The ancient text reminds us, "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit" (Psalm 34:18). In that car, overlooking the Pacific's endless horizon as twilight descended on Malibu, I felt this closeness—not as abstract comfort, but as palpable presence. The divine has always been within and between us, patiently waiting for this grand awakening. Sometimes, it arrives through events that break our hearts open wide enough for wisdom to enter.

This remembering isn't always gentle. Sometimes it arrives through loss, illness, or profound disillusionment with structures we once trusted. That evening, it came through witnessing joy I wasn't part of—a sacred disruption that forced me to examine the stories I'd been telling myself about belonging.

Through the tears came whispers of truth: Our society has masterfully constructed illusions of separation—between each other, between humanity and nature, between our physical existence and spiritual essence. "For we are all members of one body" (Ephesians 4:25)—not metaphorically, but literally, energetically, cosmically.

As the tears subsided and clarity emerged, I recognized that my pain stemmed not from missing sparklers on Malibu sand, but from the belief that external inclusion determined my value. The most sophisticated technology for healing and transformation already exists within us. Through consistent meditation, intentional energy work, and communion with higher consciousness, we access this internal technology. Each time we choose love over fear, compassion over judgment, or presence over distraction, we recalibrate our internal systems toward harmony.

The path forward isn't about transcending humanity but embodying it fully—embracing our messy emotions, honoring our physical vessels. "Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God?" (1 Corinthians 6:19). True spirituality isn't an escape from life but a deeper immersion into its magnificent complexity.

When I finally drove away from that Malibu beach, something fundamental had shifted. The fitness class I attended that evening became not just physical training but a reclamation of my body as sacred vessel. With awakening comes responsibility. As we recognize our divine nature, we must also acknowledge our capacity to create or destroy, to heal or harm.

This call isn't merely about personal evolution—though that remains essential—it's about recognizing our role in humanity's grand transformation. The challenges before us—ecological, societal, spiritual—require nothing less than our complete presence and commitment to conscious evolution. "For we are God's handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do" (Ephesians 2:10).

When conscious individuals gather with shared intention, something miraculous emerges—a field of resonance that amplifies our collective capacity for healing and manifestation. I've witnessed this phenomenon in sacred circles worldwide: strangers becoming family through vulnerability and shared purpose.

As we stand at this pivotal moment in human history, I extend my hand in solidarity and hope. Together, we are remembering who we truly are beyond limiting stories and identities. Together, we are healing ancestral patterns that no longer serve life. Together, we are dreaming a new world into being—one aligned with the highest good of all beings across dimensions and time.

The journey won't always be comfortable, but comfort has never been the purpose of a soul's incarnation. We came for transformation—our own and that of the collective. We came to remember, to heal, to create. Those sleeping bags on Malibu's shore were simply vessels for the lesson I needed most: that I belong to something far greater than any gathering could contain.

With profound love and reverence for your journey,

Mitchell Royel