Lately I’ve been thinking about the addiction to intensity that can sneak up on us in our spiritual journey. Once we start peeling away the layers, shining a light on our shadows, and feeling the effects of transformation, we can become insatiable for growth, always wanting more.

All too often, though, this can lead to us falling into a trap of feeling like we constantly need to be embarking on the next pilgrimage, committing to the next cleanse, or doing the next mushroom journey so that we can finally arrive at whatever sense of profoundness it is that we’re desperate for.

The funny thing is that the wildly “psychedelic” quality we seem to be searching for is readily available to us within the softest experiences, like watching the sun dance on the creek water, listening to the rhythmic heartbeat of your beloved through their chest, or truly looking into the face of a flower.

It takes challenging ourselves, though, to be defiant of the hard and fast way of relating to our world that has been taught by our culture. We have to choose to embrace our sensitivity, to set aside our need for more, and to truly, deeply listen.

This is why I love flower essences so much. They ask us to feel into the subtle, almost textural changes in our experience. They give us a daily invitation to change our pace in the world. And they remind us, that the subtle is the most powerful.

In this moment of seasonal shift, what if we took a cue from nature and allowed the fire our intensity to start to dim? What could happen if we lingered there, in that dreamy in-between state, where our eyes are just out of focus? If we surrendered, how might we be able to truly hear the quiet whispers coming from between the veils?