There’s a distinct energy in the air when you stand on the beach before a storm. It’s not just the shift in the breeze or the sound of the waves growing louder—it’s a knowing. The kind that pulls at something deep within you, whispering that change is on the horizon.
As the sky turns from pale gray to a brooding shade of slate, you notice the shoreline transforming too. Driftwood is scattered across the beach, carried in by the rising tide. Each piece feels like a marker—proof of what has moved beneath the surface, now laid bare.
Lately, I’ve felt my mind take me back to that beach. That driftwood on the shore reminds me of what Abraham Hicks calls “signs of alignment.” They’re little glimmers of what’s meant for you—subtle hints that your manifestations are moving closer, even when the skies seem stormy.
If I’m honest, my journey through adulthood hasn’t been a disaster—it’s been blessed with opportunities and privileges I’m deeply grateful for. But the storms have still left their mark, pulling me into places I didn’t realize I needed to go. Each storm forced me to confront the dreams I had buried beneath layers of societal expectations, fears, and “shoulds.”
For years, I pushed those deeper dreams aside. I shaped a life that looked good on paper, ticking the boxes that seemed right for everyone else. But even then, there were signs—tiny pieces of driftwood washing ashore, whispering of a different life waiting for me:
- The YouTube channel I barely promoted but grew anyway.
- Invitations to deepen my energy work practice.
- Opportunities to write about women’s wellness, sparked by Instagram captions I wrote for fun.
- Compliments about how natural I seemed on camera, even when my hands shook with nerves.
I dismissed them all. I told myself these weren’t “real” options, that they didn’t fit the image of the person I thought I should be. They felt too uncertain, too unconventional, too risky.
But looking back, I see the truth: Source was always there, guiding me. The driftwood wasn’t just debris—it was an invitation. A chance to step into alignment before the storm hit. Instead, I chose to face the storms head-on, stubborn and unprepared, convinced I had to endure them alone.
Why?
Honestly, because I needed to. For me, the storms weren’t just obstacles—they were clarifiers. Each one left me with a deeper sense of knowing, a sharper vision for what I wanted my life to become. The storms cleared the path, and with every break in the clouds, I saw the sun shining brighter than before.
Now, my mission is clear: to guide others so they don’t have to face their storms the way I did. I want to be the lighthouse on their shoreline, offering tools and insights that help them navigate the highs and lows with greater ease. Because when we learn to weather the storms, not just survive but grow through them, the calm that follows feels even more extraordinary.
This is about giving her the space to thrive—to savor the highs, soften the lows, and create the kind of resilience that recalibrates with grace.
After all, the storm doesn’t just show us what we’ve lost—it shows us what we’re capable of becoming.
What have your storms taught you?
If you’re ready to explore the wisdom within your own experiences, consider starting with tools designed to support your growth. The Gratitude Glow Journal helps you anchor in daily reflections, while the LB Method offers a holistic approach to mind-body resilience. Together, they’re here to help you uncover the driftwood in your life—those signs of alignment—and guide you through your personal seasons of transformation.
As the tide rises, the beach transforms. Driftwood appears, scattered like silent messages from the ocean floor. These aren’t just remnants; they’re proof of what was hidden beneath the waves, now visible.
In my own life, storms came disguised as setbacks: canceled plans, unexpected grief, burnout, identity crises. Each time, I thought I was breaking. But I wasn’t.
The storm wasn’t here to destroy me. It was here to reveal me.
Those scattered pieces of driftwood? They were signs—invitations from the universe to realign. The YouTube channel I didn’t promote but grew anyway. Random compliments about skills I dismissed. Opportunities that knocked even when I wasn’t looking.
I ignored them, thinking I had to stick to the path I ‘should’ follow.
But storms have a way of making you pay attention. They strip away the distractions, leaving only what truly matters.
Now, I see storms differently. Not as setbacks but as signposts.
If you’re in a storm right now, take heart. You’re not falling apart. You’re being uncovered.
Ready to uncover your own hidden truths? Dive deeper into personal growth, resilience, and self-discovery through my latest posts and offerings.
You're doing such a great job and you deserve to observe every piece of driftwood for the gift that it is.
❤️Lex