The Sacred Flame Within

 

There are seasons in every soul’s life when the weight of the world presses in with quiet insistence, asking us to become smaller than we truly are. To lower our voice, soften our joy, mute our colour—until we barely remember the brightness we once carried. In such moments, the invitation to rise in your own colour is not merely a poetic wish, but a courageous act of fidelity to your deepest self.

To rise in your own colour is to refuse the subtle shaming of your vitality. It is to stand gently yet firmly in the full hue of your being, even when those around you find your brightness inconvenient, unsettling, or unexplainable. It is to honour the particular shape and tone of your soul’s unfolding—not in opposition to others, but in reverence to the sacred trust that brought you here.

There is something holy in a soul that no longer asks for permission to shine. Not because it is arrogant, not because it seeks the spotlight, but because it has remembered its origin in light. Such a soul does not posture or parade; it simply radiates. It knows that the purpose of light is not to prove itself, but to illuminate.

In a culture that often rewards sameness and praises restraint, many grow accustomed to dimming their light. The cost of being ‘too much’ seems too high. Joy becomes modest, laughter is edited, and the raw beauty of individuality is filed down into something more manageable. We are told to colour within the lines, to not stand out, to not disrupt the palette.

And yet, the soul is a wild and luminous thing. It cannot be domesticated without deep loss. To explain your brightness, your laughter, your refusal to collapse into despair—this is not your task. You were never asked to justify your aliveness. The world needs your vibrancy not as a performance, but as a presence. Like wild petals bursting through cracks in concrete, your soul knows how to bloom in the most unlikely places, not despite hardship, but because your roots have known the ache of darkness.

This, perhaps, is one of the secret strengths of the human spirit: its ability to become more vivid through suffering, not less. When you’ve walked through the valley and found no one waiting, when you’ve carried loneliness like a stone in your pocket, when you’ve chosen to sing anyway—something within you becomes indestructible. It is not hardness that grows there, but a gentle, fierce light. A light that says: “I am still here. And I will not vanish quietly.”

To be the one who dares to bring life into weary places is no small thing. It is a radical act of hope. Not the naïve kind, but the grounded, luminous kind—the kind that has trembled before beauty and still believed in it. You do not need permission to bring colour to grey corners. The truth is, most people are hungry for it. Even if they turn away at first, somewhere in them they are yearning for someone to show it is possible.

But there will be days when this light feels like too much. Days when your joy is met with silence, your laughter misunderstood, your colours misnamed. You may feel as though you are speaking a forgotten language. You may feel, again, the pressure to fold, to shrink, to be less vivid, less you.

Remember this: joy was never meant to be small. It is not a polite guest that waits quietly in the corner. Joy is a wild tide, a sacred fire, a song that insists on being sung. It overflows because it must. And so do you. You were not made to fit. You were made to flow. To spill beauty and wonder into the world in the way only you can.

You may be bold. You may be strange. You may be unlike anyone the world has seen before. That is not a flaw. That is the signature of the sacred within you. To be you, fully and without apology, is one of the holiest offerings you can make.

Do not let this world convince you otherwise.

Stand in your colour.

Shine in your own light.

Overflow.

And let your very being become a blessing the world didn’t know it was waiting for.

BLESSING FROM MY HEART TO YOURS

May you rise in your own colour, even when the world prefers you dim.

There is something holy in a soul that no longer asks for permission to shine.

You do not need to explain your brightness, your laughter, your defiance of despair.

Let the vibrancy within you speak for itself, like wild petals bursting through cracks in concrete.

Be the one who dares to bring life into weary places—not because it is easy, but because it is true to who you are.

And if the day ever makes you feel too much, too bold, too strange,

remember: joy was never meant to be small.

It was meant to overflow.

And so were you.

I love You,

An