There are those of us who have never quite fit. Not for lack of trying. Not because we were aloof, or too sensitive, or too proud. But because we were listening to something deeper.
Something beneath the noise of culture, the cadence of norms. A frequency not everyone hears. Even among our closest companions, we’ve often felt just slightly elsewhere—as if looking out through the same eyes, but seeing a different sky.
We’re the ones who pause at the edge of things. Who cry at the scent of rain. Who see spirals in the silence, and patterns behind pain.
Some of us have studied quantum mechanics and found in it a temple. Not because we sought science or spirit exclusively— but because we knew, even as children, that truth wears many faces, and all of them are One.
And so we searched. For kin. For tribe. For a soul-language that didn’t need translation. But this kind of tribe is rare in the outer world. The old ways we belong to are not always visible. They rise in dreams. In poems. In sudden knowing. In breathless awe.
They gather not in crowds, but in quiet hearts willing to remember. And over time, we begin to see: The tribe is not missing.
It is in us.
It has always been. It lives in the aching fidelity to love, in the courage to walk alone rather than betray what is true. It lives in the discipline of wonder, and in the vow we made long ago— to keep the fire burning, even if no one else could see the light.
And when we are graced to meet a kindred— in this world or another— they don’t fill the longing. They mirror it. They confirm what we already know: that we were never without belonging. That the circle has been complete all along.
That what we seek in others is the part of us that dared to stay faithful.
You are not alone. You are part of a vast and quiet constellation. A living web of souls who carry the memory of what we truly are. And when you speak from that place, when you live from that place—you become the signal, the flare, the sacred invitation.
This is the tribe. Not made of names or blood or proximity— but of resonance, presence, and the vow to remain awake, even when the world forgets.
Nigel Lott teaandzen.org
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