New film just released…
“Inside the Vaccine Trials” 🔥🔥🔥

https://youtu.be/HRvhFpP5wOE

What a Beautiful day to be Alive!

Something’s been moving quietly beneath the surface lately, not just for me, but for many. And it’s not some big, flashy breakthrough or a burst of inspiration. It’s something softer and slower.

It’s this mellow feeling. A kind of gentle calm that shows up after years of personal and collective upheaval. It’s not that everything’s fine now, the world is still heavy, uncertain, often chaotic. But I've realized that something inside has shifted. There’s a beautiful peace, not from everything being fixed, but from no longer needing to fix everything.

I've seen many people walk through their own inner fires over the past five years. Deep losses, ego deaths, burnout, the collapse of beliefs, identities, even entire worldviews. It hasn’t been easy to experience it myself and witness it in others. And yet, something else is quietly emerging in the wake of all that unraveling. Something more grounded, more spacious, and more real.

I decided to research this whole process and found that there’s actually a name for this kind of transformation in the esoteric tradition of alchemy. It’s not just about turning lead into gold, it’s about the soul’s journey of death, purification, and integration.
That process unfolds in three main stages: nigredo, albedo, and rubedo. And for me it explains this mellow feeling that I feel rising right now.

Nigredo - The Blackening
This is where it all starts, or more accurately, where everything falls apart. Nigredo is the phase of breakdown, of decomposition. Life stops making sense in the ways it used to. Old identities start to crumble, beliefs crack open, structures collapse. It can feel like depression, disorientation, grief, or just an overwhelming sense that something is ending, but you're not yet sure what’s beginning. It’s the dark night of the soul that no one schedules but everyone eventually encounters. And though it feels messy and painful, this stage is sacred. It burns away what’s false. It brings the unconscious to the surface. It strips things down to the bones. In the chaos, a deeper truth is preparing to emerge, but first, everything that isn't real has to go.

Albedo - The Whitening After the storm, there’s a kind of strange, gentle clarity that starts to rise. Not all at once, and not always in obvious ways. But there’s a feeling that something lighter is moving in. Albedo is the purification phase, a washing away of the soot left behind from Nigredo. It's where space opens up. There’s less noise. Less attachment. People in this stage often begin to feel a quiet kind of peace, even if their external circumstances haven’t radically changed. They’re seeing things differently. There’s a return to simplicity, more time in silence, more moments of awe, more acceptance of not knowing. It’s a very inward phase, where the soul regathers and reorients. Things become clearer, not because the mind figured it all out, but because the heart softened. This is where new light starts to touch the parts of you that have long been in shadow.

Rubedo - The Reddening
This is the stage where everything begins to come back together, not as it was before, but in a deeper, more integrated form. Rubedo isn’t about perfection or being “done” with healing. It’s about showing up to life as you are, fully present, fully embodied. It’s the return, not to your old self, but to your true self. There’s a sense of wholeness, not because nothing hurts anymore, but because you’ve made peace with the hurt. You’re no longer trying to escape the messiness of life, you’re walking with it, with grace. In this phase, action becomes aligned. Words come from a deeper place. You care more than ever, but you no longer carry the world on your back. There’s compassion without codependence, purpose without pressure. This is where the fire becomes light. Where presence becomes power. And where the soul finally gets to move freely in the body, no longer striving, just being. (I LOVE this part)

And that mellow feeling that’s showing up for so many people right now? That’s rubedo. That’s the soul finally settling after a long, intense journey. Not because everything’s resolved, but because something deeper has been remembered.

There’s no longer a need to chase meaning, or fix everyone’s problems, or rush to be someone else. There’s just this: breath, presence, awareness, and a willingness to be here, as we are.

If this resonates, consider sitting with some gentler questions:
Who am I now that I’m not who I used to be?
What if peace is not the absence of struggle, but the absence of resistance?
What does it feel like to love without needing to control?
Can I let life be enough, even if it’s imperfect? Can I trust this calm, even if it’s unfamiliar?

We’re not meant to live in the fire forever. But we are meant to be shaped by it, and then step out, softer, clearer, wiser.

If you’re in that space now, if you’re feeling mellow, unhurried, strangely okay in a world that still seems chaotic, maybe it’s not that you’re disconnected. Maybe it’s that you’ve just come home to yourself.

With so much love,

Jane
XO

🚨BIG WEEK NEXT WEEK FOR CRYPTO.

The U.S. House of Representatives is set to vote on a market structure bill, a stablecoin bill and a bill banning a U.S. central bank digital currency next week. Perhaps it's premature to suggest the industry will notch a major win - but all signs indicate that U.S. President Donald Trump will sign a stablecoin bill into law before the August recess, as his team has sought since February.

https://www.coindesk.com/policy/2025/07/11/state-of-crypto-previewing-congress-crypto-week

Tonight Chris & I will unpack the action comedy, American Ultra (2015).
It is the story of a man who was a MK Ultra experiment that was placed into society without any knowledge of the experiments run on him. He is unknowingly marked as a liability and targeted for extermination. But he's too well-trained and too high for them to handle.

Grab your popcorn this one is a fun ride!

6pm EST


https://rumble.com/v6w4s5y-hidden-noscript-ep-15.html

https://pilled.net/topic-detail/1208656

https://pilled.net/topic-detail/1208719

Has anyone else been dealing with a doozy of an headache today, or is it just me?

And be serious about it bc Hypatia was horrendously killed because she refused to think wrongly.

@TruthRascalHQ 🔥

I did not write this, I just adore it 👇🏼

For many years, I genuinely believed I was being led by “God.” I believed the voice I heard within me was the Holy Spirit guiding my steps, speaking truth into my heart, convicting me when I strayed, comforting me when I needed reassurance, and pointing me in the direction I thought was righteousness. It was a very real experience. It felt sacred. There was an undeniable weight to it, a presence that seemed beyond myself. And yet, looking back with clearer eyes, I have come to understand that the voice I thought was “God” was actually the voice of my own subconscious. It was not some distant divine entity communicating from the heavens. It was the voice of my inner world, the product of years of conditioning, repetition, and deep psychological programming that began the moment I was born into a religious tradition.

This programming didn’t happen all at once. It crept in slowly, quietly, through the ordinary rituals of my upbringing. Every time I went to church, every time I bowed my head for prayer, every time I sang songs about being saved or asked for forgiveness for my sins, something was being etched into the soft clay of my inner world. I was being taught not only who God was, but who I was in relation to God. A sinner. Fallen. Broken. Dependent. In need. Unworthy unless redeemed. And this narrative was not presented as one possibility among many. It was presented as the absolute and only truth. So it was not just something I believed; it became something I internalized. It became the structure of my inner dialogue. It became the voice that accompanied me in solitude and made meaning of every choice, every thought, every emotion.

As I got older, that voice matured with me. It adapted, taking on the language of theology and the tone of the spiritual authorities I admired. It became my compass. I used it to discern right from wrong, holy from unholy, good from evil. I was convinced it was the Spirit of God dwelling within me. After all, the same system that planted the voice in me also told me what the voice was. So when I would feel that sense of conviction or when I would hear a strong inner “no” or “yes” arise in my body, I did not question it. I embraced it as divine. I trusted it more than anything else, even when it conflicted with reason, compassion, or intuition. Especially then.

And because I believed that voice was God, I believed that anything which contradicted it must be false or dangerous. That included other people’s experiences, other spiritual paths, other interpretations of the same texts I held sacred. I saw anyone who disagreed with me not just as mistaken, but as deceived. And so I spent years of my life trying to convince others that my experience was the correct one, that my theology was the most accurate, that my way of reading the Bible was not just mine but God’s. I even used the evidence of other believers who shared the same conditioning as me to validate my certainty. I pointed to the fact that we all believed the same thing as proof that we must be right. I went so far as to quote church history, find old theologians who aligned with my beliefs, and call it tradition.

But what I didn’t see then is what feels painfully obvious now. I didn’t realize that my desire to be right was rooted in a deeper and more hidden desire to feel worthy. Because the tradition I came from had taught me that righteousness and worthiness were tied together. If I could be righteous, if I could have the right beliefs, if I could stay on the narrow path, if I could be doctrinally sound, then maybe I would finally feel like I mattered, like I was lovable, like I was not as broken as I had been told I was. So my certainty was not a reflection of divine truth. It was a survival mechanism. It was my attempt to escape the unbearable feeling of unworthiness that the religion itself had planted in me in the first place.

Over time, I began to meet people who also claimed to be led by the Spirit, who also heard the voice of God, but whose Spirit sounded very different from mine. Their God gave different instructions, spoke with a different tone, led them in directions I had been taught were wrong. And yet they seemed just as sincere, just as devoted, just as certain. This confused me at first. It even frightened me. But eventually, it opened a door I hadn’t even known was there. I started to ask a deeper question: If all of us claim to be hearing the same God, then why are we hearing such different things?

When I finally allowed myself to see this, I couldn’t go back. I couldn’t keep pretending that the inner voice I heard was an infallible guide. I started to question it. I stopped obeying it automatically. I began to deprogram my subconscious. I began to unlearn. And something strange happened. The voice became quieter. The constant commentary began to fade. And in its place, there was silence. At first, the silence felt empty, even frightening. I felt like I had lost something sacred. But slowly, I began to see that I hadn’t lost anything. I had uncovered something. Beneath the voice, beneath the layers of belief and theology and fear, there was a stillness I had never known. And it was not hollow. It was full. It was radiant.

What remained was something I cannot fully describe, but I can tell you what it felt like. It felt like peace. It felt like presence. It felt like love without condition. It felt like I was home in myself for the very first time. Not because I had finally become righteous, but because I had stopped trying to prove that I was. I was no longer relating to myself as a sinner, no longer trying to fix what religion had told me was broken. I had discovered something far more honest. I had discovered that I had never been broken. I had only been taught to believe I was.

And perhaps that is what the mystics meant when they said that the words we use for God are just fingers pointing to the moon. What I thought was God was the voice of my conditioning. But what I found beneath that voice was not a person, not a belief, not a dogma, not even a presence that needed to be named. What I found was reality itself. What I found was being. What I found was love.

And it had been there the whole time, waiting for me in the silence.

- Logan Barone

The Seeker walks alone.
Wandering.

She comes to take a rest under a tree and she asks, “What can you tell me of life?”
And the tree replies, “You must grow. Draw nourishment from the earth and strength from the Sun. And when you are prevented from growing, you must push against whatever is constraining you until it breaks, or you take it within yourself and make it part of you. In this way, you will always be free.”
“Thank you,” she says.

She steps to the river and asks, “What can you tell me of life?”
And the river says, “You must Flow. And when you are prevented, you must wait until the power of your self overcomes the obstacle. In this way, you will always be free.”
“Thank you,” she says, “I am most grateful.”

She looks up at the Sun and asks her question, “What can you tell me of life?” And the Sun replies, “Trust. Trust that I will be here for you always. Trust that my warmth will sustain you and you will know the measure of my Love by the way I feel to you. Trust that I will teach you to Love as I do. In this way you will always be free and you will never perish.”
“Thank you,” she says and continues on her way.

And in that moment she senses the cool water nearby, and hears the tree’s leaves in the wind. The sun shines on her face and she smiles because she understands.

-TR✨💕✨
@TruthRascalHQ

GM! Schumann Resonances as of 0700 hrs PT / 1000 ET / 1400 UTC