So What Do I Do Now?

It can take time for the egoic mind to realise it no longer needs to ask,
“So what do I do now?”

Even after a clear glimpse of oneness, this habitual thought may persist.
Not out of resistance, but simply out of momentum, a mechanism long used to navigating life through strategy, identity, and control.

And when the old projects and roles begin to fall away, when the activities that once gave the ego a sense of self no longer hold any interest, something in the mind may feel lost, confused… even afraid.

It can feel as if life has paused, like being in a waiting room with no one at the desk.

But this is not a mistake.
This is grace undoing the false.

What’s actually happening is this:
Being has been found directly.
And the one who used to “do” is no longer in charge, as it is discovered there is no-one doing anything.
The small self dissolves into the quiet intelligence of life.

The heart of innocent aliveness is beginning to lead.
And the mind—slowly, sometimes reluctantly—is learning its new place:
not as the commander, but as the gentle servant of presence.

But this can sometimes be like learning to ride a new bicycle, or remembering how to ride an old one.
At first it’s awkward.
There may be wobbles, overcorrections, or even small falls.
But something deeper than thought is learning again how to move, how to be carried by the current of love, rather than by the tension of control.

And this, too, is part of the ego’s humbling.
It must learn that life includes both pleasant and unpleasant experiences.
That even the enlightenment of knowing beingness is not a way to bypass the full spectrum of life.
Joy and sorrow, clarity and confusion, silence and noise, all arise within the field of beingness, and all are allowed.

“Suffer what there is to suffer, enjoy what there is to enjoy, but no matter what, devote yourself to your true nature, then you will experience boundless joy.”
— Nichiren

The mind may not trust this at first.
Old patterns resurface.
Unfelt emotions may arise without warning or explanation.
Plans dissolve. Control falters.

This is not regression.
This is the natural unwinding of ego, its knots loosening not through force,
but through love.

It is not failing to reach out for help to those who understand this process, be it therapists, or others.

This block to reaching out is, indeed another necessary barrier the ego has built to shore up its own strategies.

As Francis Lucille wryly reminds us,

“The good news is, the ten-year survival rate of the ego is low.”

Let that be a quiet encouragement.

What guides you now is not a map.
Not a method.
Not a goal.

But love itself.

Not sentimental love.
But the clear, alive current of Being—
moving through you as compassion, listening, attunement, and spontaneous action.

In this shift, doing arises from being.
Decisions emerge from stillness.
Direction comes from trust.

So if the mind still asks, “What should I do now?”
you can smile gently and say, “Let love show me.”

Let love be your guide.
It already is.

With love,

Freyja