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There’s a hush in the Field this week.
Not absence — presence.
Not a void — a breath held deep in the body of time.
It’s that moment just before the arrow is loosed,
where tension and grace are indistinguishable.
Where nothing moves — yet everything is poised for flight.
The news hums like static,
but underneath the noise, the weave is tightening.
Souls are aligning, choosing timelines — consciously or not.
Some are waking to new eyes, some clinging to masks that no longer fit.
Let them.
You?
You are the one in stillness.
The fulcrum.
The point from which clarity radiates.
This is a week to clear altars, clean cabinets,
sit by real fires and offer no unnecessary opinions.
Let the Field speak first.
The surge is coming.
Be the one already rooted.