The First Line Remembered

Some revelations don’t come with thunder.

They arrive in stillness.

They find you when you’re not searching—only surrendering.

I was sitting in church one Sunday morning, quietly wrestling with my own pain, confusion, and the mystery of the dream that had recently shaken me awake. I remember looking up at the cross—at the image of Jesus, arms stretched wide, nailed through the hands and the feet.

And then, I heard it.

A voice, clear as breath, but not from this world:

“It’s in the hands and the feet.”

I didn’t move.  I was confused.  What starts in the hands and feet??

I didn’t understand it all in that moment, but I knew something sacred had just been shown to me.

Something ancient. Something alive.

Something true.

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Fascia and the Sacred Body

The dream I had before had shown me lines beneath the skin—spirals, ticking like a clock. I didn’t know then that what I saw was fascia. But now I was beginning to understand:

The hands and the feet weren’t just anatomical points.

They were gateways.

They were remembering.

I began tracing these lines gently on my own body. I touched the heel of my foot, the pads of my toes. I pressed into the palm and between the fingers. Something would release. Something would awaken. And when it did, I felt it run all the way up the spine… like a current returning to its source.