The divine intelligence that speaks when everything you thought was real falls apart

There’s a moment that comes for most of us.
Not everyone. But most.

A moment when what you thought was solid reveals itself as paper-thin. When the story you’ve been telling yourself about how reality works… just stops working.

For some, it’s grief. The kind that reorganizes you at a cellular level.
For others, it’s a near-death experience. A moment of synchronicity so precise it cannot be dismissed. A dream that feels more real than waking life.

The specific catalyst doesn’t matter. What matters is what happens after.
Because once you’ve seen past the veil… even for a second, it’s hard to unsee it. The materialist story (consciousness = brain activity, death = the end, meaning = what we decide it is) starts to feel… incomplete.

And then you have a choice.

You can dismiss what happened as wishful thinking or a one off, and tell yourself it meant nothing. Or you can do the terrifying thing: Stay open. Stay curious. And see what emerges as you expand your awareness, and consciousness.

This is a blog about what emerges.

When The Body Knows What The Mind Cannot Accept

Let me tell you what I’ve learned about grief (not from books) but from watching people I love move through it. And, moving through it myself. Grief doesn’t live in your thoughts. It lives in your tissues. You can intellectually “accept” a death. You can understand, rationally, that someone is gone. And, that “someone” can also be a past version of yourself. You can even believe, spiritually, that consciousness continues beyond the body. And your nervous system will still be screaming.

Because grief can feel like a somatic earthquake. It rewires you. It changes how blood flows through your vessels, how tension lives in your fascia, how your gut produces neurotransmitters that have nothing to do with your brain’s mood circuits.

There’s research called the “serotonin hypothesis” showing that 95% of serotonin is produced outside your central nervous system. It can’t even cross the blood-brain barrier. So what’s it doing then?

Constricting or dilating blood vessels. Changing oxygen and nutrient flow to tissues. Encoding memory and trauma directly into the body!

This is why people in deep grief often experience physical pain that has no medical explanation. The body is holding a story the mind can’t yet process. And here’s the wild part: The same mechanism that stores trauma stores wisdom.

Your spirit knows things before your conscious mind catches up. The sales pitch that feels like a full body “no” even though they’re saying all the right things. The opportunity that looks perfect on paper but feels wrong in your gut. The decision that makes no logical sense but feels undeniably right.

We’ve been taught to override this. To trust logic over instinct. Analysis over intuition. But we are constantly receiving information that seems incomprehensible. We are led to believe the 3D reality is more concrete than the spiritual world.

The Signs You’re Not Supposed To Believe In (Apparently)

Here’s something nobody talks about: Almost everyone who’s lost someone they loved reports experiences they can’t explain.

Lights flickering at meaningful moments. Songs that play at impossible times. Animals appearing with eerie consistency. Dreams that feel like visitations. Numbers that repeat until you can’t ignore them.

We’re not supposed to talk about this. It sounds irrational. Unscientific. Like grief-brain manufacturing comfort.

The signs are often too specific to dismiss. Too time-bound. Too responsive to internal requests that no one else could have known about. Right?

Neuroscientist Tara Swart, who is an Oxford-trained psychiatrist, MIT lecturer and about as far from “woo-woo” as you can get, lost her husband a few years ago. And afterwards, she said things started happening.

Robins appearing everywhere. (His name was Robin.)

Numbers. Specific sequences. His birthday showing up on clocks, receipts, license plates. Not randomly… in response to private questions she was asking internally.

She started testing it. Making specific, unusual requests with time limits. Not “send me a sign,” but “show me a button out of place by 10pm tonight.” And they came. Repeatedly. Impossibly specifically.

Here’s what she said that stopped me: “By the two-and-a-half-year point, this became so specific, so quick, so exact… I could ask him a question in my head and receive an answer that didn’t feel like my own thought.”

Now you can dismiss this. But what if we’re too quick to dismiss? What if the pattern-seeking itself is the mechanism? What if noticing IS the technology?

The Reality We Can’t See (But Know Is There)

Here’s a thought experiment.

Let’s accept that 95% of the universe is dark matter and dark energy. We can’t see it. Can’t touch it. Can only infer its existence through gravitational effects.

Let’s accept quantum entanglement… particles connected across space, responding to each other instantaneously in ways that violate our understanding of causality.

Now let’s accept that the “observable universe” only extends as far as light has had time to travel. Beyond that? More reality. We just can’t see it yet.

We do believe in some things that exist beyond our senses.

The moment someone says “I felt my grandmother’s presence after she died” or “I knew something was wrong before I got the call” …but sometimes, we can find a way revert to the materialist story. Brain chemistry. Coincidence. Delusion. Losing our minds. Grief. Emotional overwhelm. You name it, we blame it! And then dismiss it.

Why? Not because anyone can evidence that these experiences are false. But it can just sometimes feel easier to hold a worldview where consciousness ends at death.

But what if consciousness doesn’t end? What if it’s not even produced by the brain in the first place?

David Eagleman has proposed that the brain might function as a receiver like a radio tuning into a signal rather than generating it. This hypothesis cannot be disproven and fits with the mystical view of reality. It’s as scientifically valid as materialism.

Research from the HeartMath Institute shows the heart generates an electromagnetic field 60 times greater in amplitude than the brain’s and can detect changes in emotional states before the brain processes them. The heart has its own neural network… a “heart-brain” with over 40,000 neurons that communicates directly with the cranial brain.

Bruce Grayson, who’s documented over 5,000 near-death experiences, suggests something even more radical: “The brain might be filtering down the capability of consciousness so we can function in the material plane.”

Think about that. Your brain is acting as a reducing valve so you’re not overwhelmed by everything that’s actually happening at once. Because imagine we could tune into ALL of reality? Right now?

Maybe grief can crack that filter open…

For the longest time, it was believed that awareness (the capacity to experience and know that you exist), and the physical body are connected but not identical. That this awareness can exist independently of matter. That death is a transition, not an ending.

But it’s a hypothesis. One that’s increasingly struggling to explain the data more recently.

Near-death experiences where people report verifiable information they couldn’t have known. Terminal lucidity event… Alzheimer’s patients suddenly becoming lucid and coherent hours before death, as if consciousness was never actually damaged. The evidence is there.

Because if consciousness (the aware presence that’s reading these words right now, the “you” that experiences being you) isn’t produced by the brain… if it continues after death… if there’s an intelligence to reality that responds to us. As Rupert Sheldrake points out, if reality is only material, why during a near death experience do the people have memories because if they exist in the physical alone, it would be impossible for them to be accessed when all brain activity has reportedly stopped. Everything changes.

What Gets Lost When We Only Trust What We Can Measure

We touched on this briefly in our Frequency of Recognition blog…

Ancient humans survived by trusting their inner senses. By reading weather in clouds. By feeling animal behavior as information. By knowing things deeply in their soul. They didn’t have the scientific method. But they had something we’ve lost: intimate connection with the inner intelligence hidden in the depths of our being.

Dogs can smell cancer. Cats sit beside people hours before they die because they detect the smell of cells dying in a specific sequence. We have these capacities too.

Eagleman’s research showed you can train humans to detect magnetic north with a vibrating belt. After a few weeks, people could sense direction without the device. The capacity was always there, it just needed activation.

How many other latent abilities are we carrying around, dormant, because we’ve been told they’re not real? Intuition. Precognition. Energetic sensitivity. The ability to sense truth in the body before the mind catches up.

And when millions of people across cultures and centuries report the same phenomena… communication with the dead, synchronicities, premonitions, healing through intention, maybe the problem isn’t them.

Maybe it’s society’s tools for measuring and quantifying these things?
So then, should we abandon skepticism?

There’s a trap on both sides of this.

The hardcore materialist can dismiss anything that can’t be measured and ends up cutting themselves off from entire dimensions of human experience. But, to obsess about spirituality or subjectivity too much and exist so far outside of space and time where all reality exists simultaneously and lose touch with the practical, embodied human experience entirely, also isn’t the answer.

The answer is something I’ve started calling rational spirituality. Someone who stays scientifically literate. Who understands cognitive biases. Who knows that anecdotes aren’t data and correlation isn’t causation. And someone who’s strong enough to hold direct experience as valid even when it doesn’t fit the current paradigm. Who asks “what if?” instead of immediately dismissing. Who treats consciousness as something to explore with humility, not something already figured out.

Carl Jung walked this line his entire career. He studied the psyche (soul) with the rigor of a scientist and the openness of a mystic. He didn’t prove that synchronicities were real but he simply observed that they occurred with a frequency and meaningfulness that “coincidence” couldn’t account for.

“I can’t actually answer that question,” Tara Swart admits when pressed on whether signs are objectively real. “I can only give you my hypothesis. But I would like to work off the hypothesis that coincidence isn’t meaningless and see what that could mean about the nature of consciousness.”

This is intellectual humility. Not knowing, but staying curious.

It’s choosing a working hypothesis that opens doors rather than closing them. It can be kind of fun?

What Happens When You Choose To Notice

Here’s something practical that anyone can test: What happens when you start paying attention?

Not forcing meaning onto random events. But genuinely experimenting and testing: What if there’s more happening here than I’m currently perceiving? Is it repeatable?

Many people describe how after they’ve experienced loss, they begin noticing beauty everywhere. Fall leaves. Spring blossoms. The way light hits water. Moments they would have walked past their entire life suddenly became breathtaking.

Noticing beauty releases oxytocin, the same neurochemical triggered by hugs, gratitude practices, and warm baths. It literally changes your physiology.

But here’s the deeper question: Are you creating the beauty by noticing it, or revealing beauty that was always there? Both can be true.

Quantum physics has already shown us that observation affects reality at the subatomic level. The observer and the observed aren’t separate, they’re entangled.

So when you start looking for signs, and signs appear… is that confirmation bias? Or is that you learning to tune into a frequency that was broadcasting the entire time?

I don’t know but I am curious!
I do know what happens when you live as if meaning is woven into reality rather than projected onto it:
I become more present. More grateful. More connected to the subtle intelligence moving through everything.
I start trusting the connection with Divine Intelligence. I make better decisions. I feel less alone.
And whether the signs are “objectively real” or not becomes… less important than what they do to me.

The Grief That Reorganizes Everything

Let me bring this back to where we started.

Grief breaks you open. Not metaphorically, quite literally. It shatters the story. It forces you into territory where your expertise, your logic, your carefully constructed worldview… cannot help you. And in that breaking, something else becomes possible. You become a beginner again. Humble. Open. Willing to not-know. When I’ve moved through deep loss, not only did I survive it but I was transformed by it.

And I stopped needing to understand and started learning to listen.

To the body. To the signs. To the intelligence that speaks in dreams, in synchronicities, in the inexplicable knowing that arrives without explanation.

Neuroscience can’t teach you how to still feel a loved ones presence. It can’t.

So today I have a question for you, are you willing to trust the intelligence that flows through you and around you? Are you able to notice what you’ve been trained to ignore? To hold the possibility that reality is far stranger, far more meaningful, far more responsive than the materialist story allows?

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