This morning was moving beyond words. As I sat with tears in my eyes, preparing to journal and reflecting on the conversation I shared in my last post, I realized something profound: the flood of gratitude within me is the joy we often speak about—the joy the Bible promises. It’s not so much a reward but a state of being, one we earn the experience of through growth and surrender.
For those who haven’t read the post I’m referring to, here’s the nutshell version to offer some context for why this moment has been so powerful and moving:
I finally got right what I so often got wrong. For the first time, I consciously experienced the reality of being fully present—without a shred of egoic drive or the need to be understood. Instead, I listened, sought clarity, and trusted the deeper parts of myself—what I believe to be Spirit—to guide me. What could have been a tense back-and-forth turned into a moment of connection.
Through that connection, I learned more about myself, my relationship with God, and the complexity and beauty of human understanding. It wasn’t just the conversation itself that mattered—it was what it revealed about who I’ve become and the journey it took to get here.
Finding Joy in Humility
I’ve always believed in the importance of gratitude and humility, but let’s be honest—they’re easier to admire than to live. For years, I struggled to let go of my ego, especially in conversations about faith. My psychology background taught me that the need to be understood often masks a deeper insecurity, and philosophy showed me how ego can distort truth into something self-serving. Still, I often fell into the trap of needing to “win” the discussion.
But lately, especially over the past two years of my journey, I’ve come to realize that joy doesn’t come from being right. This year, in particular, has shown me—through living it, not just pondering it—that true joy comes from surrendering control. It comes from trusting Spirit (or God, or Source—whatever name resonates with you) to work in the spaces where human understanding falls short.
It’s about humility—not the kind that denies truth, but the kind that invites connection and embraces the bigger picture. True humility, I think, is what allows us to grow beyond our limitations. It’s what allows us to see that our experiences, beliefs, and even mistakes are all part of a bigger process—a process that psychology, philosophy, spirituality, and lived experience each play a role in shaping.
The thing I think most people fail to realize, as I did for so long, is that humility doesn’t have to be a consequence of our experiences—it can be a choice. When we accept the reality that we are all continually learning and evolving, we can consciously choose to approach life with humility. By striving to remain aware of this ongoing growth and its purpose in our lives, we can make choices from a place of humility, rather than experiencing humility only as the result of poorly thought-out actions or decisions.
How? By taming the ego—not destroying it (which I’ll share more about soon), but learning to guide it with wisdom and intention.
When Words Get in the Way
One particularly important thing this conversation reminded me of is how often language creates barriers between us, even when we share the same hearts and intentions. I’ve touched on this before in the previous post, but I know it can be hard for people to follow along if they stumble upon this blog days or months later. To make it easier to connect the dots, here’s another quick nutshell recap for you:
The phrase “divine within” became the initial barrier in this conversation. For one person, it sounded New Age-y, detached from any biblical foundation. For the other, it was simply a way of describing the indwelling of something greater—whether you call it Spirit, God, or truth.
This is a perfect example of where so many misunderstandings happen. Our language is shaped by our experiences, backgrounds, and the systems that have influenced us. To deepen this perspective from the previous post:
Psychology has taught me that our words often carry subconscious meanings, while philosophy has shown me how interpretations can shift depending on context. Biblical and other “holy” teachings have added another layer to this understanding, showing me how Spirit can work through and beyond our words to reveal deeper truths. Scripture reminds us that God’s ways are higher than ours (Isaiah 55:8-9), a humbling reminder of the limitations of human language.
Yet, no matter how well-meaning we are, language can still fail us.
Again, in this case, once I shared that my words were grounded in Scripture, the person I was speaking with realized we were saying the same thing. It wasn’t the words that mattered—it was the meaning behind them. That realization created a bridge, showing me once again how much more powerful Spirit is than the limitations of human language.
This wasn’t an easy lesson for me to learn. For years, I let my need for approval guide me. I would agree with people just to avoid conflict or push misunderstandings off my radar entirely. But that taught no one anything—not them, and certainly not me.
From this morning’s journaling session: It’s taken years of learning, a lot of in-practice humility and reflection, and a few deeply painful experiences to realize that approval doesn’t matter—truth does. Truth, as I’ve come to understand, requires us to move beyond ego and into the space where genuine connection happens. That’s where Spirit—or whatever name we give to that deeper knowing—can truly guide us.
It Takes All of It
The purpose of this post, with its revisiting of previous posts in nutshells, is to share what this particular moment of growth has taught me: growth—true, deep growth—requires all of us. It calls on our intellect, emotions, experiences, and spiritual practices. It draws from everything we’ve gained through psychology, philosophy, faith, and the messy, beautiful journey of living.
For me, it’s been a combination of all these things that has shaped my understanding. Psychology taught me the importance of self-awareness and the way our egos try to protect us, even at the cost of connection. Philosophy showed me how to question assumptions and seek a deeper truth. And faith—faith taught me to trust, to let go, and to find meaning in the spaces where logic and reason can’t fully explain.
When we try to reduce ourselves to one framework, we miss the bigger picture. This is where I think people often “get it wrong.” We cling to one set of ideas—whether it’s religious dogma, personal experiences, or intellectual systems—and let ego convince us it’s the only truth.
I know this because it’s exactly who I used to be. This moment is a perfect example of why deep introspection is so important throughout our daily journeys. Self-realization and self-understanding are not as taboo or harmful as some belief systems might suggest—whether through teachings about not questioning God or the church.
In fact, asking these kinds of questions is loudly encouraged, even by God in scripture (e.g., Matthew 7:7, Proverbs 4:7, James 1:5). Please don’t let them fall to the wayside just because modern dogma might label them as selfish, heretical, or sinful.
Gratitude Changes Everything
This is what gratitude does. This is why scripture tells us to be grateful in all things and experiences, even the most painful and difficult ones (e.g., 1 Thessalonians 5:18, Romans 5:3-5, James 1:2-4). Gratitude shifts our focus from what we lack to what we’ve been given, even in the moments when we can’t yet “see” the gift in our circumstances. It turns painful lessons into opportunities for growth and opens our hearts to the fullness of life.
I’ve felt this shift in my own life. Letting go of material things doesn’t mean not “having” them. Practical items—for example, a car in rural areas, books if we love to read or are students, or a messy abundance of paint tubes if we’re artists—are necessary and meaningful. But it’s about no longer seeing these things as void-fillers. Letting go in this way has freed me to focus on what truly matters: relationships, love, faith, and growth.
Letting go of ego has transformed my conversations, allowing me to connect with others in ways I never thought possible. But it has also meant losing people I love—those who wish to continue arguing misunderstandings, while I’ve reached a point where the argument feels unnecessary because it serves no purpose.
I’ve come to realize that these people are often in need of lessons only their own inner compass and God can teach them. If they can’t grasp the example I try to lead with—through my actions and my refusal to respond with anger—it’s no longer something I can control. When I refuse to engage with people who want only to be right, to win, or to gain something for themselves, I’m not disagreeing with them. In fact, I am respecting and loving them, as well as myself, by stepping away and trusting that their growth is in God’s hands, not mine.
What I’ve learned is that we cannot truly experience joy or happiness when any form of conflict lingers in our lives. And so much of the conflict we endure is self-made—born from our own ego or the egos of others. When we learn to release ego’s grip, we see how often we’ve allowed ourselves to hold onto struggles that were never truly necessary.
While it can be painful to lose people I love, I’ve come to understand that this experience is, in its own way, part of my joy—because it is part of my peace. My joy is not dependent on their presence in my life. It is rooted in God and in my own inner peace, and that peace is a personal responsibility we all owe to ourselves.
We must stop taking it personally when others choose peace, and we must stop being angry at those who no longer engage in conflict. That’s the essence of personal responsibility: understanding that peace is a choice, and it begins within.
Trusting in something greater than myself—whether you call it God, Spirit, or Source—has shown me that even in these hardest, most painful moments, there is still purpose.
Walking This Journey Together
Through it all, I’m deeply grateful for the people who choose to walk this journey with me. Letting go of ego and conflict can mean losing some relationships, but it also strengthens the ones rooted in mutual love and growth. My partner has been my greatest example of patience, love, and resilience. The fact that we can share this deeply emotional and often challenging path together is a gift I never take for granted.
This journey isn’t easy. But it’s real. It’s honest. And it’s sacred. This experience today reminded me that true joy comes from embracing all of who we are—the intellect, the emotion, the spirit—and letting go of the ego that tries to control it all.
What about you? That’s the question on my mind now, as we come to the end of this post, and it’s also my purpose for being so open about my own lessons. I want to encourage you to ask yourself, as I do when reflecting on the journeys of others: “What about me?”
What moments in your life have taught you to embrace the fullness of your humanity? How have you found joy and connection in the midst of misunderstanding?
Closing Thoughts
Being in a state of gratitude and surrender is the truest joy I’ve ever known. It’s what we mean when we talk about letting go of material things as void-fillers. True fulfillment isn’t about possessions or status; it’s about embracing the journey—with all its highs and lows—as an expression of God’s purpose for us.
It is often dismissed or judged by those in my everyday life that I live in a state of perpetual evolution. Yet, perhaps because of that, I feel so grateful for this platform and the opportunity to share this journey with all of you—the people who read this blog and take part in this process of becoming. Even if we never cross paths or share conversation beyond what you read in my posts, I hold a deep love and appreciation for you.
This journey is emotional, moving, and, at times, unbearably painful—but it is a road we share, and for that, I feel incredibly blessed. Thank you for choosing to explore this path with me, for growing alongside me, and for reminding me every day that love and faith are the most important treasures we have.
This trip we’re on together isn’t easy, but it’s real, and it’s holy. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
The Twin Tree Project 