I Build New Lands With the Truth I’ve Claimed

There was a time when I thought awakening would feel like a sudden blaze—like one day I’d break free, scream into the sky, and never look back.

But fire doesn’t always come loud. Sometimes it begins as a quiet rumble deep beneath the surface. A discomfort. A knowing. A soft refusal to keep wearing what no longer fits.

This isn’t my first fire. I’ve already written about The Moment I Stopped Asking for Permission to Exist. I’ve stood in the heat of I Am the Fire, naming my pain and reclaiming my power.

But Lava Flow—this is different.

This is not about breaking free. It’s about becoming.

The Embodiment After the Flame

Since that moment of inner combustion, something slower has been rising within me. Not rage. Not grief. Not even clarity—but embodiment.

The kind of knowing that seeps through your bones and no longer asks to be explained. A quiet power. A sacred heaviness. Like molten truth slowly making its way through the false layers I once called home.

I used to believe so many things were truth simply because they were familiar: – That I had to earn my worth– That softness was weakness– That strength meant silence– That what others thought of me defined me.

But when I finally stepped into the fire, those “truths” began to crack. And in the cracking, something unexpected happened: I didn’t collapse. I flowed.

The System Was Built on Doubt

And here’s what I’ve come to see: We live in a system that depends on our doubt. It needs us to question our inner voice, to compare, to compete, to shrink. Because a soul who knows—who embodies their power slowly, consistently, without needing to prove anything—is the most dangerous kind of wildfire.

I wasn’t meant to be a spark that fizzles.

I wasn’t meant to burn out or burn others.

I was meant to become lava—slow, steady, undeniable.

Because lava doesn’t beg. It doesn’t seek permission. It moves forward, reshaping the land, destroying what cannot withstand truth, and fertilizing new ground for what is real to grow.

A New Land in a Dying World

With the slow emergence of the Age of Aquarius, something ancient and futuristic stirs all at once. The old systems—rooted in hierarchy, control, and fear—are crumbling under their own weight. We’re not here to rebuild those ruins. We’re here to claim new ground. To create space in a dying world not just to survive, but to thrive.

And this is what my molten becoming has shown me: I build new lands with the truth I’ve claimed. Not lands of dominance or separation, but of deep knowing, embodied sovereignty, and sacred rebellion. I no longer seek a seat at their table .I plant my own. And I invite only what resonates with my frequency.

This is the final reclamation. Not just of my voice, or my power, but of my place. The place I will no longer beg to belong to—because I’ve created it with fire and truth. And I will tend to it, fiercely and tenderly, as the new world rises beneath my feet.

A Realization Rising From the Flow

The most surprising realization in this stage of becoming has been this:

I no longer need to be loud to be powerful.

I used to think my healing had to be fierce, that I had to declare it with fire and fury. And while those moments were so real and necessary, I now know—There is power in the slow glow. In quiet confidence. In feeling something rise within you and choosing to honor it without needing to explain it.

This is where I live now. In the flow. In the heat that no longer burns me, but sustains me. In the truth that no longer needs an audience to feel real.

If you’re reading this and you’ve felt that slow rumble inside you…Trust it.

You don’t have to erupt to be seen. You don’t have to explain your glow.

Let it rise.

Let it flow.

You’re not too late.

You’re right on time.

And when the world tells you to doubt again? Let your steps be molten. Let your knowing reshape everything.

🌋 “Lava Flow” is a song born to capture this feeling—this slow, sacred embodiment that has already reignited within me.

And maybe soon… it will rise in you too. xxooxx