Everything I thought would happen or come in this year didn’t, and yet, I have been having the most extraordinary summer of my entire life and I have had absolutely zero words for it!
I’ve tried. I have 64 drafts in my Substack, 100 seeds of poems for my next book, a WIP manuscript with only 15 polished ones, a Notes app with a slew of half-thoughts, pages and pages and pages in my latest journal with divine downloads, a handful of voice memos that I haven’t re-listened to.
But every time I’ve sat down to properly write and said to myself, “Ok, Karin. Tell the stories. Explain the experience, explain it all,” nothing seems to pour out the way I know it’s supposed to.
And it isn’t about where I went or what I did or what I created. I traveled near and far, but it wasn’t the places. I met wonderful strangers who changed my worldview, but I’ve spent most of my summer with myself. It isn’t that I manifested something huge, or made a shit ton of money, or that a door finally opened in the name of my destiny.
Quite the opposite, actually. My outer world has been eerily quiet, my business slow, my inbox dry, my social calendar only filled with me-time or family time over anything else.
It’s nothing external, and that’s the whole point.
It’s a feeling in my chest that keeps whispering, You’re home. And it’s surprised me because I always knew I’d feel this someday—true, lasting inner peace and joy that doesn’t fluctuate, that becomes the baseline instead of the exception, that doesn’t shake despite external chaos. Feeling safe, free, and regulated by just existing and being.
I just didn’t know it would unfold during the most disorienting season of my life, and without a single thing on the outside to explain it.
Even now as I write, the words sound perfect in my head—eloquent, exact, beautiful—and the second I type them, they miss and they don’t hold it and they don’t capture what I’m really yearning to say.
Do you ever just experience something so profound, so magical, and so astonishing, and even you have no language for it, no clear articulation, no set of words that can hold it all accurately? And even trying to make sense of it pulls you out of the very thing you were so alive inside of?
When the mind prematurely gets involved, it places a ceiling that dilutes the infinite energy that is immeasurable, that must first be fully felt somatically and electromagnetically before it’s articulated at the depth it’s meant to. We can try, but we’ll miss the mark.
To define is to limit.
Oscar Wilde
To be an alchemist—to turn the unseen into the seen, to make the invisible visible, to transmit an extraordinary human experience into digestible words, to articulate a state of consciousness through simplicity—is a great responsibility and a greater joy.
I’m still in awe that I get to do it, that language is my gift and writing/speaking are the talents I came to Earth with, that my voice is one of my favorite instruments to use in order to reveal the Divine, the one I myself choose over and over again despite the blood, sweat, and tears that come with it.
But the live it first part of my process is sometimes the bane of my existence. I’m a little girl on the inside, with an anticipatory giddiness in my chest that keeps bubbling up, because I myself am the primary audience—I look forward to discovering what comes through me and what out of body experience I get to have through my own words and the transcendence I experience through it.
But, God keeps whispering, “It’s not time yet, just keep living and having fun.” Which, I can’t exactly complain about because as far as Divine instructions go, “just exist” and “have fun” are pretty good ones and ones that every past version of myself would’ve done anything to receive when she asked for guidance months ago.
They’re the ones who brought me here, so I’m celebrating them by fully living, which lately has included a lot of dancing sessions in my kitchen to Olivia Dean and naps by my pool and slowly reading East of Eden.
Joan Didion once said, “I don’t know what I think until I write it down.” And maybe that’s the God wink in all of this: it’s not what I think, it’s not even what I see, it’s not even what I feel.
It’s what I know each time I look at my mom or my dad, or a stranger on the train who’s world’s apart from me, as I scroll on social media and see someone from my past who I used to be angry with, as I witness a lantern bug crawling up my window, as I plop on my couch with my soulmate of a best friend beside me yapping about everything and nothing, as I play with a little girl who hands me a handful of grass that she pulled out from the soil ‘just for me,’ as I walk through the streets of Manhattan and observe a homeless man smiling at me. My entire body is vibrating with this knowing.
Some things arrive as a frequency long before they’ll ever agree to translate into digestible words.
So here’s the only thing I’m sure of right now: the gestation is the most holy part of the creative process, and I don’t just mean art.
I mean creating as a way of being—the greatest thing you’ll ever make, which is You, your wild human experience, your life. You are your greatest masterpiece, one that not only requires time, but also thrives because of it.
Let yourself marinate—in the philosophies, the curiosities, the revelations, the noticing, the remembering, the heart expanding, the eyes seeing differently, the joy emanating—before you articulate it, before you do anything with it, before you act on it, before you change your whole way of living because of it.
The transmission will be holier for the time you let yourself melt in it. Your present moment will be more magical because of it. And when the divine timing finally reveals itself, it will feel nothing short of supernatural.
I’m excited to receive the words to describe all of it, but until then, if you care to explore my brain and my soul and go on a journey into your own, I invite you to grab my books below.
When Nothing Makes Sense: Finding God in the Gap Between Prayer & Answer (this one is the closest articulation to all the above, and if you are ready to taste life through magic, this will guide you into doing just that)
And if you’re in the midst of discovering what your own soul came here to create in the greatest moment in human history, my PORTAL app can guide you on that journey, so you can fulfill your own destiny and bring your own calling to life in alignment to your own rhythm (discount code for paid members below).
NOTE: Limitless with Karin Hadadan is entirely reader-funded, which is exactly why I can write it the way I do—no sponsors, no performing, no writing for the algorithm. Just me, writing what’s true, guiding others to raise their consciousness to align with their soul, supported by the people it reaches. If this has ever met you somewhere real, or transformed you, becoming a paid subscriber is the most meaningful way to keep it going.
P.S.—I’ve been having so much fun on TikTok as it feels like the liberating outlet for me right now, where my sillier side comes out, where I just let my train of consciousness rip based on whatever is on my heart. And if you ever want to work 1:1 with me, you can book a session here.
xx Karin 🤍
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