READ THIS WHEN YOU WANT TO KNOW THE NEXT STEP ON YOUR PATH
You’re asking the question again—the one that loops quietly in the background, even when life looks fine on the surface:
What now? What next? Where do I go from here?
And it’s okay that you don’t know yet.
Not knowing doesn’t mean you’re off track.
It often means you’re closer than ever to your real one.
The mind wants a map.
The soul wants space.
And the body?
The body doesn’t speak in steps. It speaks in signals:
Pulses. Resistance. Grief. Tension that won’t go away.
A tenderness that shows up for no reason.
That’s the language of the next step.
But most of us were taught to override those signals with logic.
To push forward. To plan. To do something.
Because staying still feels like failure.
But what if this moment—this in-between—isn’t a detour or delay?
What if it’s the beginning of a real return?
The Mason Jar
I saw something once that said everything I’ve ever tried to explain about healing—without using a single word.
A mason jar.
A handful of plastic balls dropped inside—each one a belief you didn’t choose but still carry.
You’re too much. You’re not enough. You don’t get to ask for that. Someone like you should know better.
Then came the water. Just a few inches at first—the work.
And slowly, the balls began to rise.
Not because they were new—but because they were no longer buried.
This is what happens when you start healing:
You don’t suddenly feel better.
You suddenly see everything you couldn’t face before.
More water.
Some of the balls floated out. Progress.
But also: discomfort.
And for many, this is the exit point.
Not because they’re weak, but because they never learned that clarity often looks like chaos at first.
The jar fills again.
More beliefs pushed to the surface.
Fewer remain. You’re almost there.
But now you’re tired.
The healing doesn’t feel inspiring—it feels like grief.
And this is where most people stop.
Not because they haven’t done enough, but because they don’t realize how much they already have.
One final pour.
The last few pieces spill out.
The water is clear now.
And the jar?
It’s not empty.
It’s free.
What Your Soul Wants
So maybe the next step isn’t about action.
Maybe it’s about listening.
Not with your ears, but with the oldest part of you—the part that still remembers what you came here to do.
Jan Phillips, best-selling author and teacher of spiritual intelligence, evolutionary creativity, and social transformation, writes that the soul wants five things:
To connect — with self, with Source, with others
To commit — to what matters deeply
To serve — something bigger than your fear
To express — your truth without apology
To create — because that’s how the soul breathes
If you don’t know what to do next, start there.
Ask: Which of these has gone quiet in me?
Let that be your next step.
Not a leap. Not a breakthrough.
Just a return—to one of the things your soul has always wanted.
You’re not stuck.
You’re not late.
You’re not broken.
You’re becoming.
And the water is rising.
