The Lie of "More"

Why Worth Isn’t Something You Earn—It’s Something You Remember

I’ve always had a complicated relationship with more.

I’m a seeker, so naturally, more seems to make sense. More experience, more truth, more pleasure, more pain, more learning, more food, more money, more love, more sex, more ideas, more stillness, more movement, more fun.

But in a world of more, sometimes what you’re truly seeking gets lost in the constant, endless striving.

These past few years, I have become a vessel for truth—and I feel when something is even slightly off. I don’t just crave resonance; I require it. Whether it’s a book idea, a business decision, a partnership, or my body’s signals, I’m attuned to subtle shifts and deep undercurrents.

That’s not a weakness—it’s my gift.

But here’s the thing: this superpower is also my pressure point. I carry a deep responsibility to make everything mean something. To get it right. To make sure it’s aligned, embodied, and impactful. Sometimes, that can create fatigue. Doubt. A sense of urgency that robs the sacredness from the process.

In my search for more, I forget that there is meaning in everything. In me. In you. In nature. In the in-between. In the silences. In the orgasms. In the darkness. In all the shit we don’t want to look at or are too afraid to name.

If you can relate in any way, here’s what you need to know:
You don’t have to hold it all.
You don’t have to prove your depth.
Your presence already changes the room without you doing anything.

Trust that the right timing, the right message, the right offering will arrive not when you force it, not when you are trying to get more, but instead when you feel safe enough to surrender from the exhausting pursuits and… simply… receive.

But to receive, we have to feel worthy, right? And to feel worthy, we have to remember that we already are. No amount of “more” will make you any more valuable than you are in this exact moment. And the next moment. And all the moments that came before this one and all that will come after.

Isn’t that such a freeing and terrifying concept?

Because if you don’t have to have more to be more, then what are we all even doing with our time??? Aren’t we trying to get more? Isn’t that the purpose? More money, more business, more time, more stuff, more love, more clicks, more likes, more wisdom, more validation? Aren’t we gauging our entire lives on having, doing, and being more?

When more feels like less, it’s time to dig deeper. When you scrub away all the nonsense—the online programs, the noise, the ads, the masterminds, the text chains, the objects, the news, the fear, the anxiety, the pressure, the WEIGHT and BIGNESS of being a human—the answers are there, where they’ve been all along.

They’re in your body.

They’re in your own quiet nature.

They’re in your heart.

Can you hear them?

Would you listen even if you could?

Claiming peace and presence is so much more readily available than we are led to believe. And it is the only quest I am interested in.

The only journey I ache to take.

Below are some of my favorite journal prompts and somatic practices to take this concept from brain to body, to examine your relationship to worth, to more, to self, to the world, to see if you can arrive at something true for you.

Here’s to your own divine excavation.

Rea

ENOUGHNESS

Prompt:
What part of me still believes I need to be “more” to be enough?
→ Where did that belief begin? Whose voice does it carry? What would it feel like to let that belief soften—even for a moment?

Somatic Check-In:
Sit or lie down and bring one hand to your heart, the other to your womb or belly. Breathe deeply into both spaces. Ask your body: What does enoughness feel like in me today?

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CREATIVE TRUST

Prompt:
Where am I still waiting for permission to create what I already know I’m here to make?
→ What would happen if I stopped asking for approval and started following the thread of my own curiosity?

Somatic Check-In:
Take a moment to gently place one hand on your belly, one on your throat. Breathe. Ask: Where in my body do I feel most blocked when I try to create? What would help that place open—even a little?

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IDENTITY

Prompt:
What version of me is still performing to feel safe, accepted, or seen?
→ Who would I be if I let that version rest?

Somatic Check-In:
Stand up. Let your arms hang loose. Shake out your body for 30 seconds, gently. Then pause. Ask: What identity am I ready to shake off? And what might I choose instead, if I trusted myself more deeply?

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DESIRE

Prompt:
If my desire had a voice, what would it say I’m truly longing for?
→ Not what I think I should want. Not what looks good. But what aches to be felt, tasted, touched, known.

Somatic Check-In:
Lie down or sit comfortably. Breathe into your hips and heart. Ask your body: Where does desire live in me today? What does it want me to know, feel, or follow?