Lately, I’ve been sitting with the need to discern—deeply—between what is a craving and what is a calling. Whether it arises in my body, my mind, or my heart, the distinction isn’t always obvious. In truth, I’ve been pondering this question most of my life.
As I’ve grown, healed, expanded, and matured, I’ve noticed how my relationship to need itself has changed. What once felt essential now feels optional. What once seemed like survival now feels like habit.
We often get attached to what we once needed. But do we have the skill—and the courage—to recognize when something is no longer necessary? Are we ever taught that what we need today might not be what we need tomorrow?
Society seems to operate under the illusion that our needs are static—preset, permanent—and that life is simply a long, often painful journey of getting them met… and then, if we’re lucky, we die.
But what if the real journey is one of discernment—fluid, adaptive, alive? What if we held both need and want with a more tentative hand, allowing them to morph, evolve, and transform?
Right now, I’m in a gentle medicine journey—a sacred dieta—that’s asking me to let go of many of the ingredients and stimulants I’ve long believed were necessary for my health and vitality. Foods, substances, habits I thought I needed.
And in their absence, I’m noticing new cravings arise—some I’ve never had before. My mind tries to justify them, bargain for them, analyze their necessity. But my body speaks a quieter, older language. One I’m learning to listen to more precisely.
So I ask myself, over and over:
Is this a craving born of attachment to an old need that I am healing beyond? Or is it a true message from my body, calling for something essential to its transformation?
The answer doesn’t come from the mind alone—it, too, is undergoing its own metamorphosis. Because transformation is not a single-domain event.
- It is not just the body that evolves—our diets, our rituals, our rhythms.
- It is the mind, with its beliefs and identities.
- It is the heart, with its wounds and ways of loving.
- It is the soul, reclaiming its sovereignty and Knowing.
This path is not easy. It’s not linear. It doesn’t follow a tidy set of rules. It is dynamic. Organic. Cyclical. A series of deaths and rebirths—again and again.
And this… this is why we walk together. Why we bump into each other. Why we lean in, learn from, come apart, come back. Why we mirror each other in both mess and magic.
Because this living inquiry—this sacred journey home—is not meant to be done alone.
