Who Created God

The Whisper That Started It All 

It didn’t happen in a church.
It didn’t happen during prayer.
It didn’t come through a powerful dream or deep meditation.

It came while I was slicing a watermelon.

Nothing about the moment seemed spiritual. No candles. No incense. No sacred music playing in the background. Just me, in my kitchen, doing something ordinary.

But somewhere between the weight of the knife and the sweetness of the fruit, something shifted. Something opened. A quiet thought made its way in—one I hadn’t invited or expected.

It wasn’t from a book. It wasn’t something I heard in a sermon. It came from within.

And that whisper changed everything.

In that instant, I realized I no longer saw God the way I had been taught. Not as a man in the sky. Not as someone watching from above, waiting for me to earn grace through obedience or repentance. But as something more whole. More honest. More balanced.

I felt it deep in my bones: God is not a singular, external figure. God is the harmony of divine masculine and divine feminine energy. A sacred presence that doesn’t rule over us, but rises within us. And once I saw that, I couldn’t unsee it.

That watermelon moment was the beginning of a shift I didn’t even know I was longing for. A shift away from striving and proving. A shift toward stillness, toward inner clarity. Toward remembering what had always been inside me but had been buried under layers of programming and performance.

That was the beginning of my shift.
And now, maybe, yours too.

A Return to the Sacred Within

This isn’t about how to find God.
It’s not about religion, dogma, or spiritual formulas.

This is about remembering.
Remembering who you are underneath the noise.
Returning to your own knowing. Your own peace. Your own power.

If the word "God" feels heavy or complicated, let it go. Use whatever word speaks to your spirit—Source, Spirit, Love, Energy, Truth. The label doesn’t matter. The feeling does.

For much of my life, I was taught that the sacred was above me, beyond me, and often disappointed in me. I tried to behave my way into divine approval, hoping that if I was good enough, I’d finally feel like I belonged.

But the more I slowed down and healed, the more I began to hear something else. Not from a pulpit. Not from a teacher. From within.

And what I heard was this:

You are not separate from the sacred.
You are made of it.

You don’t need to search for it, perform for it, or earn it.
You just need to return to it.

A Sacred Reframe

What if your highest spiritual practice wasn’t kneeling, begging, or striving, but aligning with your truest self?

This is the shift:
From external worship to inner awareness.
From fear-based obedience to peace-filled embodiment.
From reaching upward to looking inward.

The stories we were told aren’t all wrong. But many are incomplete.

Take the Holy Trinity I was raised with—Father, Son, Holy Spirit.
It shaped my early view of the divine. But as I grew, something new began to take form. Something that felt personal, empowering, and alive.

Instead of a God I had to worship, I discovered a sacredness I could embody.

Now I see the divine reflected in three inner aspects of self:

• The Ego Self – Loud, reactive, protective. It’s the version of us that shows up first in the human experience. It protects, performs, reacts, defends. It is the one that needs validation, that seeks control, that struggles to surrender. It is not bad. It is not the enemy. It is a necessary part of our early development. But over time, it becomes less of a guide and more of a weight, unless we learn to soften its grip.
• The Higher Self – Quiet, calm, aligned. It’s the voice of inner peace, truth, and compassion. Calmer. It whispers where the ego shouts. It is the inner compass that points toward peace, alignment, compassion, truth. It doesn’t need to compete or prove. It already knows. And when we begin to heal — emotionally, spiritually, even physically — we start to hear this voice more clearly. It nudges. It soothes. It redirects us gently.
• The Observer – The loving witness. It watches without judgment and holds space for all of it. This is the part of us that watches with love. That sees us — not to judge or criticize, but to witness with sacred awareness. The Observer notices the ego rising and doesn’t panic. It notices the higher self guiding and feels grateful. It is the space within us that holds it all.

The Son becomes the Ego — the human self, the experiencer.
The Holy Spirit becomes the Higher Self — the guide within.
The Father becomes the Observer — the wise, loving presence.

Now, instead of looking up, I look in.
I don’t have to earn grace. I am grace.
I don’t have to worship the divine. I just have to slow down enough to feel it.

This is what I call a sacred reframe.

It’s not about abandoning what you were taught.
It’s about expanding it.

It’s not about being right.
It’s about being real.

There is room here for all of it—your doubts, your questions, your experiences, your unfolding. I’m not here to convert you. I’m simply here to walk with you as you return to yourself.

Because you were never disconnected.
You were just distracted.
And now, it’s time to come home.

Pause for a Moment and Ask Yourself: What if I already have what I’ve been searching for outside of myself, within?

A Shift in Perspective: Ego, Higher Self, and the Observer

These three inner voices shape the way we live, love, and evolve.  These three inner guides speak at different volumes, in different moments, with different intentions.

Some people move through life unaware of these voices. Others feel their presence but confuse their roles. And a few begin the sacred work of recognizing each one clearly—and learning how to live in harmony with them.

This shift in perspective is not about hierarchy. It’s about wholeness. It’s not about silencing one part of yourself in favor of another. It’s about learning how to listen, when to soften, and how to choose from a deeper place.

You are not fractured. You are layered.

Defining the Three Inner Voices

The Ego is the voice of identity. It knows your name, your roles, your preferences, and your past. It’s your protector. It searches for safety and belonging. While often misunderstood or labeled the villain in spiritual teachings, the ego is not your enemy. Without it, you couldn’t function in the world. You couldn’t navigate relationships, set boundaries, or meet your basic needs. The ego’s voice is loud, urgent, and rooted in past experience—especially in pain. It simply doesn’t want you to hurt again.

The Higher Self is the voice of the soul. It speaks through clarity, calm, and deep truth. It doesn’t seek approval, it doesn’t operate from fear, and it doesn’t need to be loud. This is the part of you that remembers who you were before the world told you who to be. It sees the bigger picture. It guides gently and trusts that you will listen when you are ready. When you align with this voice, life doesn’t necessarily get easier—but it gets clearer.

The Observer is the silent witness. It watches without judgment. It is pure awareness. The Observer doesn’t interfere. It simply notices. It sees the ego reacting. It sees the Higher Self offering insight. It watches your emotional waves rise and fall but doesn’t become the wave. This is the voice that reminds you there is space between what happens and how you respond.

These voices don’t compete. They coexist. And when you start to recognize their tones, you begin to experience a deeper kind of peace.

Learning to Hear the One That Whispers

The Higher Self doesn’t yell. It doesn’t push. It doesn’t beg for your attention. It whispers, trusting that you’ll hear it in the quiet.

But the ego is loud. It wants answers now. It craves certainty and thrives on urgency. And if you’re not careful, you’ll mistake its volume for truth.

The Higher Self speaks when the noise dies down. When you’re driving without music. When you’re washing dishes. When you’re alone in nature. When your nervous system finally exhales. That voice might say, “This isn’t right,” even when everything on paper looks perfect. It might nudge you to walk away from what your mind insists you need. It might say nothing at all, just offer peace in the pit of your stomach.

Most people live on autopilot, reacting from ego without even realizing it. They confuse fear with instinct. They call their soul’s wisdom anxiety. And slowly, they lose trust in themselves.

But truth doesn’t cause panic. Truth feels like peace, even when it asks you to change.

To hear the Higher Self, you must slow down. You must listen beyond the noise. And you must be willing to trust a voice that doesn’t always make logical sense—but always feels aligned.

Start asking:

• Does this voice feel urgent or steady?
• Is it rooted in fear or peace?
• Does it tighten my body or relax it?

Your body often knows before your mind does. And your soul has been guiding you all along.

Embodying All Three Without Judgment

One of the most powerful shifts you can make is learning to stop demonizing your ego.

The ego isn’t bad. It’s just scared. It’s doing what it was wired to do—protect you. When you stop judging it and start listening to what it’s trying to protect, you begin to respond with compassion rather than self-criticism.

The Higher Self doesn’t fight the ego. It holds space for it.

The Observer doesn’t take sides. It simply witnesses.

And you—you are all three. You are the one who feels, the one who knows, and the one who watches.

Spiritual maturity isn’t about silencing one voice in favor of another. It’s about integration. It’s about honoring each voice for what it offers while learning to lead with the one that aligns you with peace.

There will be days when the ego takes over. That doesn’t mean you’ve failed. That means you’re human.

There will be moments when the Observer catches you mid-reaction—and you get to pause, reflect, and choose differently.

And there will be breakthroughs when your Higher Self speaks so clearly, it feels like coming home.

You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to be present.

Living with The Shift in Perspective

When you begin living with this kind of awareness, something shifts. You move from reaction to reflection. You begin to recognize patterns before they repeat. You create space between stimulus and response. And in that space, you find freedom.

In the beginning, you may only notice the ego after it’s spoken. You may only hear the Higher Self in hindsight. You may only glimpse the Observer in moments of silence.

But over time, something begins to settle.

You start to say:

• “This reaction is my ego, and I’m not going to shame it.”
• “This choice feels aligned, and I know it’s my Higher Self speaking.”
• “I’m watching this moment unfold, and I feel deeply present.”

You stop outsourcing your wisdom. You stop begging for signs. You begin trusting the truth that lives within.

And the more you live from that truth, the more peace you find—not because the world changes, but because you change the way you move through it.

Letting Life Breathe Through You

Eventually, the striving becomes exhausting.

You get tired—not just physically, but spiritually. Tired of overthinking. Tired of forcing outcomes. Tired of carrying burdens that were never yours to begin with.

This is when surrender begins to whisper.

Not as weakness. Not as giving up. But as an invitation to let life breathe through you instead of trying to breathe life into everything.

Control is an illusion. And when you release it, you don’t fall apart. You fall into alignment.

What It Means to Live in Flow

Living in flow doesn’t mean you don’t care. It doesn’t mean you give up direction or desire. It means you learn to move with life instead of against it.

You don’t force. You align.
You don’t chase. You attract.
You don’t beg. You receive.

You begin to trust timing. You begin to honor your rhythm. You stop betraying yourself for things that aren’t meant for you.

And you learn something sacred:

What’s truly for you will not require you to shrink, perform, or suffer to receive it.

Listening to the Rhythm of Your Own Life

Every life has a rhythm.

But most people are too distracted to hear it. Too busy. Too burdened. Too conditioned.

But your life has a pulse. It speaks through the fatigue. Through the peace. Through the tug toward change. Through the door that will not open no matter how many times you knock.

The tree doesn’t question itself in winter. It knows spring will return.

You are no less worthy in your stillness.

Surrender is not quitting. It is listening—and choosing to move in harmony with what your life is already trying to show you.

The Exhale

You don’t have to grip so tightly.
You don’t have to perform for safety.
You don’t have to pretend you know what’s next.
You are allowed to release the weight.
You are allowed to pause.
You are allowed to rest.
You are allowed to trust the flow.

Because the river does not need your permission to carry you.

But it does need your stillness to be felt.

Pause for a Moment and Ask Yourself: Which voice have I been following lately—the one that fears, the one that knows, or the one that watches?