Removing the Wheel Gives Access to the Will

Time isn’t what we think it is.

Everybody says it moves forward, but it really doesn’t move at all. What moves is awareness. What moves is you. Time just folds it self around whatever you’re able to see. That’s why sometimes you can feel something from years ago as if it’s happening right now, or sense something that hasn’t “happened” yet. Because it already did — just not in the order you expect.

When you start to understand that, you begin to see that life doesn’t play out like a straight road with neat little milestones. It’s more like a box of puzzle pieces scattered across centuries. Step one could have happened in year 26, step two in 1901, step three in 2016. The steps don’t come in order; they come when you’re ready to see them. Your job isn’t to chase the next piece — it’s to recognize the pattern when it shows it self.

That’s why it’s so important to be the observer. Observation is what pulls the pieces together. You can’t see the pattern if you’re too busy running inside the system’s loop. You have to step back and record what you’re seeing because documenting helps you remember. Every thought, every event you write down becomes a marker in time. Thought is powerful because it’s the blueprint of experience. When you write it, you freeze that frequency long enough to return to it later and connect it to the next one. That’s how you build your own map through non-linear time.

Documentation is a form of time travel. You write something in 2010, and then in 2025 you read it and suddenly you’re back inside that exact vibration, but with new understanding. The past and the present fold together. That’s navigation. You’re learning to move through your own time field consciously.

And see, the reason most people never get there is because the system compresses time. It convinces you that you have birthdays, deadlines, clocks, calendars — things to keep track of because time is supposedly slipping away. But nothing in nature keeps time like that. The sun doesn’t celebrate a year. Trees don’t turn a certain age. They grow in cycles of light and rest. They respond to energy, not to numbers.

Every time you celebrate another year, you’re reinforcing the idea that time is a straight line — that you’re older, running out of something. But that’s not natural. That belief shrinks your experience. It makes you live as if you have to hurry, as if the only way to be valuable is to constantly do more within a shrinking window. That’s how the system keeps you inside the stationary wheel — the endless rotation of working, earning, acquiring, performing. You think you’re moving forward, but you’re just spinning.

And while you’re spinning in that wheel, you can’t access your will.

The stationary wheel is man-made — mechanical, predictable, repetitive. Your will is divine — inherited from your cosmic ancestors, the energy that already wrote what’s meant for you. The house you’re killing your self to buy, the car you’re buried in debt for — those might already exist for you inside your will. They’re part of what was meant to come naturally, through alignment, not through exhaustion. But the will won’t move while you’re trapped in the wheel. You have to step out for it to turn.

And stepping out doesn’t mean everything suddenly falls into your lap. It means you begin to work with your will instead of against it. You start noticing how certain thoughts and events keep looping back, like signposts. Those are your directions. They’re showing you where the next piece of the puzzle belongs. The ancestors left those markers for you — not just human ancestors, cosmic ones. Their patterns are embedded in your own timeline, waiting for you to wake up and notice.

Don’t underestimate your thoughts. Every thought is a part of creation. It’s the first step before form. When you think consciously, you start rearranging time. When you write those thoughts down, you anchor them. You make them solid enough to revisit, to build from, to understand how one moment led to another even if the dates make no sense. That’s how you remember who you are — by watching your own thoughts evolve through time.

That’s why the ancients carved things in stone, why they painted on walls, why they kept symbols everywhere. They were building time machines out of memory. They were leaving themselves coordinates to come back to.

When you start living like that — aware, observant, documenting, connecting — you stop being ruled by the clock. You stop aging in the way the system defines aging. You start compressing moments of illumination instead, like the sun lighting specific parts of your journey. Those illuminated moments are your true timestamps. They tell you what time it is for you, not for the world.

Because when the sun shines on a certain part of your path — metaphorically or literally — that’s the universe saying, this is now. That’s your sundial. That’s your real clock.

Moving the wheel accesses your will.

Don’t push harder to get it to move, shift your awareness, document what you see, and remember that time is not something happening to you. It’s something unfolding through you.

That’s how you travel through time.