Something has lifted. Not gradually. But in the way a morning can feel entirely different from the one before it, as if something that has been sitting on you is simply no longer there. And in its absence, everything feels lighter. Clearer. More yours. This is what the end of a cycle actually feels like. Not dramatic. Not announced. Just a quiet recognition that you are no longer operating from the same place. The patterns that once ran beneath everything have lost their grip. And without them, you are finally present enough to see what is actually here. That is the shift. You are no longer being carried by what used to run automatically. You are moving with awareness. Not waiting to see what happens and adjusting yourself to it, but meeting each moment knowing you are part of how it unfolds. You're not reacting anymore. You're responding. You're not being lived. You're living.