This Is True

Truth, Spoken

*A soul-led approach to voice and presence*

Before you begin reading,

pause for just a moment.

Let your breath slow.

Let your body settle where it is.

Nothing here is asking you to agree, perform, or understand.

This is not an argument.

This is an invitation.

If it feels supportive, take one grounding breath before continuing:

Pause & Breathe — a 60-second grounding practice

🫁 Grounding Breath — 6-Second Exhale Practice

Before continuing, pause here.

Inhale gently through your nose for 4.

Hold softly for 2.

Exhale slowly through your mouth for 6.

Again.

Inhale 4.

Hold 2.

Exhale 6.

One more time.

Let your shoulders drop.

Let your jaw soften.

When you’re ready, continue reading.

Truth doesn’t arrive through urgency.

It doesn’t raise its voice.

It doesn’t force itself to be heard.

Truth waits until the noise softens.

For a long time, I believed truth was something you had to defend—

something you explained carefully, wrapped gently, or justified repeatedly so it wouldn’t disrupt the space around you. But real truth doesn’t demand permission. And it doesn’t arrive to create harm.

It arrives to create alignment.

Truth begins in the body before it ever reaches language.

You feel it as a tightening—or a release.

A pause.

A quiet recognition that doesn’t need proof.

The soul always knows first.

This piece is written from that place.

Not to persuade.

Not to expose.

But to speak what is real—slowly, honestly, and without armor.

This is Flower InBloom—voice guided by truth, grounded in soul.Before we begin,

Take a moment to arrive.

Let your breath slow.

Let your body settle where it is.

Nothing here needs to be rushed or figured out.

This is a space for listening—

with your whole self.

This is Flower InBloom—voice guided by truth, grounded in soul.

Opening Ritual — Entering the Space

I begin by arriving.

I let my breath slow.

I let my body be where it is.

I let this moment meet me without expectation.

I am not here to perform.

I am not here to convince.

I am not here to be anything other than present.

I set down urgency.

I soften my listening.

I open the space where truth can move freely.

What rises may rise.

What stays quiet may stay.

Everything is welcome exactly as it is.

I cross this moment with care—

from silence into voice,

from knowing into naming.

I am ready to speak

from the center of myself.

Truth, Spoken From the Soul

Truth is not loud.

It doesn’t rush.

It doesn’t force itself to be believed.

Truth waits until you’re ready to stop performing and start listening.

For a long time, I thought truth was something you explained—something you defended, justified, or proved. But real truth doesn’t argue. Real truth simply is. And when it rises, it does so quietly, like breath returning to a body that’s been holding itself too tight.

Truth begins in the body before it ever reaches the mouth.

You feel it as a tightening… or a release.

A pause.

A soft “oh” inside yourself.

The soul always knows before the mind catches up.

When I stopped lying to myself—about what hurt, about what mattered, about what I needed—I didn’t become harsher. I became gentler. Truth didn’t strip me down to nothing. It brought me home to myself.

Truth is not cruelty.

Truth is not punishment.

Truth is not exposure for the sake of shame.

Truth is alignment.

It’s the moment your inner voice no longer has to whisper.

It’s the moment your body no longer braces for impact.

It’s the moment your heart realizes it doesn’t need permission to exist.

Speaking truth doesn’t mean saying everything.

It means saying what’s real without abandoning yourself.

Sometimes truth sounds like:

“I don’t know yet.”

“I need space.”

“That no longer fits who I am.”

“This hurts, and I’m allowed to name it.”

Truth spoken from the soul carries no sharp edges. It doesn’t need to wound in order to be valid. It doesn’t demand agreement. It simply offers itself—steady, grounded, honest.

And here’s the part no one tells you:

When you live in truth, your nervous system changes.

Your breath deepens.

Your relationships shift.

Your boundaries grow roots instead of walls.

Truth teaches you how to stay.

Stay with discomfort.

Stay with love.

Stay with yourself.

And when you speak from that place—when your voice comes from the center instead of the armor—people don’t just hear you.

They feel you.

That’s the power of soul-truth.

Not volume.

Not perfection.

But resonance.

And resonance is unmistakable.

Closing Invocation (Soul-Forward, Expansive)

I invite truth to move through me now—

not as armor,

not as defense,

but as breath.

May the words that leave my mouth

come from the place in me that knows how to stay.

May my voice remember its own steadiness.

May my truth arrive without urgency,

without apology,

without fear.

I release the need to be understood

in order to be real.

I release the habit of shrinking my knowing

to make others comfortable.

Let what is true in me

rise gently,

land softly,

and remain whole.

May this truth bless my body,

clarify my heart,

and steady my path forward.

And may I trust—

fully—

that truth spoken from the soul

is already enough.

Grounding Ending (Nervous-System Safe, Settling)

Before I go,

I return to my breath.

I feel my feet where they meet the ground.

I notice the weight of my body being held.

I allow my shoulders to soften,

my jaw to unclench,

my chest to settle.

Nothing needs to be solved right now.

Nothing needs to be proven.

I am here.

I am safe.

I am present.

I let the truth I’ve spoken

rest inside me,

like a warm stone—

steady,

quiet,

real.

And when I move on from this moment,

I carry myself with me—

whole,

rooted,

and enough.

Ritual Closing — Returning to Center

This is where I pause.

I gather my breath back into my body.

I gather my voice back into my chest.

I gather my truth back into myself.

Nothing I’ve spoken leaves me empty.

Nothing I’ve named takes something away.

What is true settles deeper.

I honor what rose.

I honor what stayed quiet.

I honor what is still becoming clear.

I do not rush the integration.

I do not ask for certainty.

I allow truth to land in its own time.

I am grounded.

I am present.

I am intact.

And as I step forward from this moment,

I do so gently—

carrying myself with honesty,

with steadiness,

with care.

This is enough.

I am enough.

I am complete for now.

If you’re still here, may what you’ve read settle kindly in you.

May your breath remain steady.

May your truth feel less alone.

And may you carry yourself forward with care.