Where to Start When You Don’t Know Where to Start

There’s this moment—quiet, subtle, often inconvenient—when something inside starts whispering: there has to be more than this.

It doesn’t usually come with clarity. It’s not a lightning bolt. It’s more like a tug. A shift. A question you didn’t have yesterday.

You might be sitting at your desk, staring blankly at a screen. Or waking up from a dream that left you aching for something you can’t name. Or crying in the kitchen for no reason, with a sense that something deeper is asking to be seen.

You google things you don’t fully understand: “energy healing,” “kundalini,” “how to feel more connected.” You scroll through posts that talk about remembering your essence and stepping into your soul work, and it resonates—but also feels ten steps ahead of where you are.

And the question comes: Where the hell do I even begin?

This work—this path of awakening, healing, remembering—is vast. It doesn’t hand out maps. And that can feel overwhelming at first, especially if you’re used to doing things “the right way.”

But here’s what often gets missed: the path doesn’t begin with learning more. It begins with listening deeper.

Not to the outside world, but to yourself.

To your body. To your breath. To the place inside that already knows, even if you’ve spent years ignoring it.

The entry point isn’t fancy. It’s rarely dramatic. It’s often a hand over your heart. A deep sigh. A walk without your phone. A moment where you admit: I don’t know what I need, but I know I can’t keep doing it like this.

From there, things start to move. Not because you’ve done it “right,” but because energy responds to honesty.

You might notice you feel calmer after a bath. You might be drawn to a book you’d normally walk past. A meditation finds you. A conversation opens something.

It’s less about choosing the perfect tool and more about building relationship with your own inner rhythm.

For some, movement is the first portal. For others, writing. Or sitting in stillness. Or learning how to track their emotions without immediately fixing them. For many, it’s learning how to feel safe in their body for the first time.

None of it is wasted. None of it is too small.

What matters is that you begin. Gently. Quietly. In the most human, imperfect way.

Because you don’t start this work by becoming spiritual. You start by becoming present.

Let that be enough.

Let that be the first step.

And trust that the path will meet you there.