Coherence, Even Here

Week Ending: January 4, 2026 – Week 37
Wolf Moon • Supermoon in Cancer

This week did not bring transformation through rupture.
It brought confirmation through continuity.

The Wolf Moon moved through me like a tide—highs, lows, heaviness, clarity—reminding me that everything is a spiral, not a straight line. Instead of fighting the fluctuations, I listened. I stayed with myself. I moved gently, intentionally, without abandoning my center.

When grief arrived—Patty’s health news landing heavy in my chest—I let it be felt without letting it overtake me. I didn’t collapse or override. I chose motion without violence: simple tasks, meaningful momentum, care that created order rather than pressure.

This is new. In the past, I would have pushed, forced, or disappeared into self-judgment. This week, I trusted my body’s wisdom and let heaviness move through me instead of lodging inside me.

Quiet confirmations arrived.

Sophie returned to me after two months—not through conflict or effort, but through calm coherence and a simple exchange. I waited without grasping, and what was meant to return did so naturally. Her presence brightened my field instantly, a reminder that alignment doesn’t need to be chased.

Another confirmation came through words spoken without agenda. Raoul—someone who has known me for decades—told me he could see the change in me. That I felt more grounded, more centered, glowing with light. The words weren’t rehearsed or performative. They were felt. I noticed them with my heart, not my mind. I received them—and I’m still learning how to receive with grace.

I also released something quietly but permanently: the need to be perfect to be powerful.

During trivia, a few bloopers happened. I noticed them. I laughed. The audience laughed with me. There was no spike of tension, no inner recoil, no aftermath of self-criticism. My body stayed calm. The moment passed cleanly. I forgot about it entirely. That alone tells me how much has changed.

This week taught me that empowerment isn’t loud.
It’s stable.

It showed me that coherence isn’t something I access only in solitude—it’s something I can carry. The phrase that anchored itself into me was simple and unmistakable:

Coherence, Even Here.

Not when things are quiet.
Not when I’m rested.
Not when conditions are ideal.

Here. Under pressure. In the busiest week. In leadership. In uncertainty.

I am stepping into the role of Field Maestra—not by controlling the noise, but by holding the tempo. By staying present. By letting my internal gravity organize the space around me.

This week didn’t ask me to become more.
It asked me to remain myself.

And I did.