It’s Wednesday afternoon, and I’m watching my three runner ducks forage with their particular brand of earnest curiosity. Their determined waddles make me smile every time.

I’ve been spending 6-7 hours a day outside with them lately. That might sound tedious to you but it’s become a kind of meditation for me. It’s my chance to observe how they figure out their world with such complete presence. They don’t miss the earthworm hiding under the leaf. They don’t still worry about the hawk that circled yesterday. They’re not anxious about tomorrow’s weather. They’re simply… here. Completely.

So, I find myself wondering: When was the last time I moved through my day with that kind of undivided attention?

There’s an invisible tide that’s washing away our masks

Something intense is happening in the collective energy field right now. I’m pretty sure you’re feeling it. It’s like we’re moving through a doorway that demands we leave our masks behind. The next few weeks feels like a deep, penetrating truth-seeking energy that won’t tolerate pretence or half-measures. Yikes. Whatever’s been hidden is demanding to be seen.

This isn’t necessarily comfortable.Truth rarely is. But it’s necessary.

I’ve also been noticing a pattern with clients lately. Someone who’s been avoiding grief suddenly finds it impossible to push down. A relationship that’s been functioning on surface agreements suddenly requires deeper honesty. And a career that’s been “fine” suddenly shows it’s deeply inadequate.

It’s almost as if the universe is saying: No more pretending. No more delays. The time to reckon with what’s real is now.

The unacknowledged losses are coming to surface 

I’m gonna speak for most of us when I say we’ve been carrying losses we haven’t fully acknowledged. There’s the dreams that didn’t materialize, or the connections that faded. There’s also the versions of ourselves we had to release.

What my runner ducks understand instinctively is something we often forget, that presence requires acceptance. They don’t reject the rain. They don’t fight the wind. They simply adjust their path and continue their curious exploration.

But humans are the masters of resistance. We build elaborate structures to avoid feeling what’s true.

I’m fine. It doesn’t matter. I’ve moved on. It wasn’t that important anyway.

These are the mantras of unprocessed grief. They’re the shields we use to protect ourselves from pain that feels too big to hold.

But what we resist persists. And right now, cosmic forces are making resistance nearly impossible.

Your soul’s compass for the next 3 weeks

If you find yourself suddenly facing feelings you’ve been avoiding, or truths you’ve been sidestepping, it’s not random. You’re not regressing or failing. You’re actually being called into alignment with what’s real.

This is really an important opportunity, though it might not feel like one.

For the next three weeks especially as we move into late spring, we’re in a time of revelation and renewal. That means the old structures are being tested. What’s authentic will strengthen, and what’s false will crumble.

‘Okay, Jonni, but what do I do about it.’

You can start with creating intentional pauses. My duck-watching hours have shown me how much we miss when we rush. I recommend finding moments where you can simply observe without judgment. The answers you need are usually in the quiet spaces between your thoughts.

You can also honestly face what surfaces. For example, if grief comes up, let it rise. If truth shows up, look at it directly. This isn’t the time for spiritual bypassing or forced positivity. But it’s definitely a time for courageous reckoning. (Reckoning is my favourite word this week)

Another step is to release with gratitude. Something is likely ending or transforming in your life right now. I’d bet on it. So, instead of clinging, try thanking it for its service and allowing the completion. Not everything is meant to continue. Recognize when a chapter is closing.

And finally, you can trust what’s showing up. What feels like disruption now is probably alignment. The old skin must crack for the new self to come through. The foundation must tremble for the stronger structure to rise.

Finding Connor in the water-dancing ducks

Yesterday, while I was watching my ducks splash in their pool with complete abandonment, I found myself thinking about my son Connor. About how he used to throw himself into experiences with that same wholehearted presence.

At first I felt the familiar ache of his absence. That grief that never fully leaves. But there was also something different. I realized that my years of carrying his loss have taught me to value presence in a way I never could have otherwise.

The ducks’ simple joy wasn’t separate from my grief. They were actually two facets of the same truth. Lfe is both fleeting and eternal. Both are broken and whole.

This is what you’re being invited into now. The ability to hold seeming contradictions with grace. To acknowledge what’s ending as you welcome what’s beginning. It’s like grieving what’s lost and at the time celebrating what remains.

What your heart needs before June’s door opens

The intensity we’re all feeling right now is preparing us for a significant shift that’ll probably come in early June. But we can’t skip this current phase of truth-telling and reconciliation.

My final word is that the more honestly you meet this moment, the more prepared you’ll be for what comes next.

So join me in duck-like presence these coming weeks. Look at things with curiosity rather than fear. And acknowledge what’s true, even when the truth brings tears.

There’s also something extremely freeing about no longer having to pretend.