The Keys Are In Your Hands

There's something I've come to realize—it's not that people really change.

Something inside us transforms.

Change can feel like rearranging the furniture in the same old room. Transformation is different—it's the quiet, undeniable pull toward something new. It's not forced. It's not about fixing. It's not about bulldozing our way to a new life.

It's an organic stirring from within that invites us to stand still, to notice the pull of the old action, and to simply choose something different.

That's the work.

To notice the pull.

To feel the gravitational tug of the familiar path.

To choose.

To stay curious.

To do something new—not because we force ourselves—but because we want to see if it yields something different.

This is how we begin to procrastinate in a new direction.

This is how we begin to document what happens when we choose differently.

This is the commitment-to ourselves.

No one else can do this for us.

And the beauty-the absolute miracle-is that once we see the pattern, we really can do something about it.

But let's be honest—it's hard.

It's like knowing we want to go for a walk because we know it will feel good, but the pull to stay sitting is so much stronger.

It's like knowing we want to have that hard conversation, but the pull to scroll our phone instead feels safer.

It's like knowing we want to nourish our body, but the pull to reach for comfort feels louder.

It's like knowing we want to soften in an argument, but the pull to defend feels more familiar.

And yet, the moment we choose differently, something shifts.

The pull starts to weaken.

The new path starts to form.

Over time, we build the muscle to overcome the inertia, the lethargy, the gravitational pull of our old life.

But if we don't actively choose something new and follow through, we can be sure of one thing: The cycle will repeat.

The suffering will recycle itself.

The loop will continue.

And so we search.

We look outside ourselves-for books, for talks, for teachers, for someone to give us the key.

We wait for someone to say the thing that finally unlocks the door.

But here's the thing:

The key is in your hands.

It has always been in your hands.

We must surrender to ourselves.

We must decide.

This is how we transform.

Let's be clear-transformation is not about achieving more or controlling more.

It's about aligning with the deepest part of ourselves-the part that already knows the way.

Maximum achievement isn't about stacking trophies. It's about freeing the heart. It's about achieving alignment with who you truly are-not just achieving goals. Sometimes, the deepest achievement is the willingness to stay when you want to run, to soften when you want to harden, to trust when you want to control.

Yes, sometimes surrender will call us into action.

Sometimes it will call us into a different decision.

Sometimes it will call us to do something that feels uncomfortable, something our body is not used to doing.

Ernest Holmes said, "Treat and move your feet."

Pray. Affirm. Declare.

And then walk a different path than the one that got you here.

But what if you don't know what that new path is?

What if you don't know what to do, or what to say, or how to be?

The mind will spin.

The heart always knows.

When you don't know—stop.

Sit.

Be still.

Let the mind rest.

Let the heart speak.

In the stillness, you'll find the answer.

The more we return to the heart, the more we see:

It's not about building a shinier version of ourselves.

It's about letting go of the force-the incredible amount of energy we've used to hold up old identities, old patterns, old safety strategies.

It's terrifying to let that go. I know. I've been there.

It's terrifying to surrender all the scaffolding you think is holding you together.

But here's what I've also learned: It takes far more energy to hold up the old than it does to walk into the new.

There is a reality that requires nothing from you.

Not in the sense of doing nothing-but in the sense of being nothing.

The pain and the pressure we feel often come from trying to hold everything in place.

The freedom comes from letting go.

When action is needed, it will arise.

When a response is necessary, it will come.

The mind may resist.

The mind may panic.

The mind may cling.

But the heart always knows.

And I want to tell you this:

I believe in you. I believe we can do this. Not because it's easy-but because freedom is already your nature.

If you desire the freedom, the door is right here.

And the keys are in your hands.

With fierce love and tender trust in your path,

Rev. Tracey Harrick