You stand at the threshold of something vast.
Here is where change dwells.
Trance is not a place you go.
It is where you already are—beneath the noise, behind the eyes, within the breath.
It is the hush that settles over a forest just before rain,
the widening of space between thoughts,
the way time stretches when you fall in love or fall apart.
It is the mythic undercurrent of every moment
that modern life trained you not to notice.
In trance, you do not lose yourself.
You remember the self that was never split.
A trance is not sleep.
It is the opposite of sleep.
It is waking—deeply, inwardly, awake.
This is where transformation begins.
