The Universe is saying There is a quiet world woven through this one, unseen but not absent, where your ancestors stand like old trees, rooted in memory, watching the path you walk. The spirit world is not far away, it brushes against your breath, moves through the wind, settles in the stillness when you pause long enough to feel it. The Divine Mother holds it all, the living & the passed, the spoken & the unspoken, carrying your lineage like a song that never ends. Your soul tribe, those known & unknown, walk beside you in subtle ways, nudging guiding, steadying your steps when the road feels uncertain. To remember them is to keep the connection alive. Speak to them in the quiet of your morning. Whisper thanks into your tea before you drink. Leave a flower at the base of a tree, not as a ritual of obligation but as a gesture of recognition, a soft I see you & I remember.