The Times We Are Living In

Post III — The Breaking Open

Maybe you’ve felt it too—like the world cracked a little, not catastrophically, just… enough for light to leak in where the armor used to sit.

That cracking? It isn’t the end. It’s the moment the false self finally loses its job, the one you built out of grit, duty, and grit-with-icing on top, thinking it was the only way through. Turns out, it was scaffolding. And it’s coming down—not loudly, but unmistakably.

We’re living in a time when:

• the masks feel itchy

• the old roles feel borrowed

• the heart insists on honesty even if it trembles on the way up your throat

• and the body says nope to carrying one more invisible suitcase that was never yours to begin with

  
  

This isn’t a breakdown, love. It’s a break-open.

Mimicry is tiring itself out. Everyone’s tired of being the edited version of themselves. Everyone’s starving for the real one, the one who laughs the same in private as in the world, the one who aches for belonging instead of applause, the one who knows truth isn’t a shout, it’s a nod you feel in your cells.

You might recognize the breaking open as:

• tears appearing like old rain you forgot was in the sky

• exhaustion that humbles the ego without diminishing the soul

• a sudden intolerance for spiritual or worldly cosplay

• grief that isn’t sadness, but recalibration

• a hunger for the life you once whispered to yourself“I’ll live you someday”

Well, someday is tapping you on the shoulder now.

These times are asking the human to stop impersonating itself. To stop posturing toward awakening and instead—feel the thing that’s real. Yes, systems look messy.Yes, the future feels foggy. Yes, you might feel like you’re shedding more than you can explain.

But the truth is this:

Your heart’s breaking open so your soul doesn’t have to.

Your field is softening so coherence can land in a body that can finally hold it.

What’s collapsing is the borrowed self.

What’s emerging is the part of youth at always knew the way home even while standing in a house that didn’t quite fit. This breaking open is preparation, not punishment. You are being relieved of duties you never officially accepted, relieved of identities you never truly owned, relieved into something ancient, honest, and yours. And when the dust from the breaking settles (which it will, softly, like snow that already knew the roof)—

you’ll stand up inside yourself, stretch, maybe sigh a little, and say:

“Oh… there you are.”