Soul Lessons From God: The Grace of Trust &amp; Faith

Soul Lessons From God: Trust & Faith The First Eaglet

When the Unseen Becomes Visible

The Day That Called Me Forward

Some days arrive quietly, slipping into your life without asking anything of you. Others rise with a subtle pull — a nudge, a whisper, a sense that you need to be somewhere without knowing why. And then there are the days that call you with a clarity you can feel in your chest. Days when the world rearranges itself around you, guiding your steps before you even understand where you’re going.

Today was one of those days.

I didn’t plan to go to Star K Ranch. I didn’t have a reason. I only had a feeling — a persistent, gentle insistence that I needed to be there, and that I needed to go now, not tomorrow, not next week. So I listened. I went. And I’m grateful I did, because what unfolded was not just beautiful. It was orchestrated.

It was a message.

A message about trust.
A message about faith.
A message about what God reveals when you’re finally ready to see.

The Parents — Bald Eagles Sovereignty at the Threshold

When I arrived, the first thing I saw were the adult bald eagles perched beside their nest. They sat high in the trees, steady and composed, their bodies outlined against the warm winter sky. They weren’t restless. They weren’t hunting. They weren’t calling out. They were simply there — present, grounded, sovereign.

There is something unmistakable about the presence of adult eagles. They carry a gravity that doesn’t need to announce itself. They don’t perform. They don’t posture. They simply exist in their authority, and the world rearranges itself around them.

Seeing them both together felt significant. A bonded pair. A partnership. A unity. They were guardians of the moment, sentinels at the threshold of something I didn’t yet understand. I watched them for a while, letting their stillness settle into me, letting their presence soften the noise I had been carrying all week.

I didn’t know then that this was only the beginning.

The Hidden Choir — The Red‑Winged Blackbirds

As I continued down the trail, I heard them — a sound so loud, so layered, so alive that it stopped me in my tracks. Hundreds of Red‑winged Blackbirds, calling in a chorus that rose like a living wave. Their voices filled the air, echoing across the wetlands with a force that felt ancient.

But I couldn’t see a single one.

They were hidden deep in the cattails, tucked into the reeds, invisible to the eye but unmistakable to the ear. Their presence was undeniable, even though their bodies were nowhere to be found.

It was surreal — to hear so many and see none.
It was like listening to the heartbeat of the land itself.

And immediately, I felt the symbolism settle in:

Sometimes the guidance is loud long before it becomes visible.
Sometimes the truth surrounds you before it reveals itself.
Sometimes God speaks through what you can hear but cannot yet see.

Yesterday, I had seen one Red‑winged Blackbird — just one — perched in perfect light, singing his high melody, offering himself to my camera as if to say, Pay attention. I matter. Today, the unseen choir confirmed it.

The blackbirds were the first message:
Faith begins in the unseen.

Soul Lessons From God: Bald Eagles & Red-Winged Blackbirds

The Synchronized Flight — Bald Eagles Divine Alignment

As I rounded the bend, the air shifted. A shadow passed over me, then another. I looked up just in time to see the two adult eagles lift from their perch and fly directly above me — together, in perfect sync.

Their wings moved with effortless unity, each adjusting to the other with a grace that felt choreographed. They weren’t just flying. They were aligned. Their bodies cut through the air like a single thought, a single intention, a single movement.

It was breathtaking.

And it was symbolic.

Alignment is not forced.
Alignment is not strained.
Alignment is the natural result of trust.

Watching them, I felt something inside me loosen — the tightness of the week, the heaviness of uncertainty, the ache of disappointment. Their flight reminded me that when something is meant, it moves with ease. When something is true, it doesn’t require struggle. When something is aligned, it reveals itself in motion.

I didn’t know yet what they were leading me toward.

But I followed.

The Revelation — The First Eaglet of the Season

When I turned the corner, the blackbirds had gone silent. The air felt different — still, expectant, almost reverent. I glanced toward the nest, expecting to see nothing until the adults return.

Instead, I saw movement inside the nest.

At first, I thought it was a trick of the light. It’s February — far too early for eaglets. Incubation usually begins in February into early March. The earliest hatchings happen in late March, to early April. But this movement was unmistakable.

A small head.
Downy feathers.
A body shifting against the nest bowl.

An eaglet.

Who stood up in the nest – holding its head up high

I froze.
My breath caught.
My heart knew before my mind did.

This was not normal.
This was not expected.
This was not on schedule.

This was early emergence — life arriving ahead of time, ahead of season, ahead of what the world says is possible.

And in that moment, the message was undeniable:

What is meant for you will not follow the usual timeline.
It will come early.
It will come unexpectedly.
It will come even in strange seasons.
It will come because God said it’s time.

The eaglet was the revelation — the visible truth that had been forming long before I knew to look.

The Meaning — Trusting What You Cannot Yet See

As I stood there, watching the tiny eaglet shift around in the nest, everything from the past week rearranged itself in my mind. The noise. The exhaustion. The uncertainty. The heaviness. The sense of being pushed out of one chapter and pulled toward another.

It all made sense.

The blackbirds had been the unseen guidance.
The parents had been the guardians of the threshold.
The synchronized flight had been the alignment.
And the eaglet — the eaglet was the truth finally revealed.

This wasn’t just a wildlife moment.
This was a spiritual moment.
A divine moment.
A moment of revelation.

A moment where God said:

“You don’t have to see the whole path to trust it.
You don’t have to understand the timing to believe in it.
You don’t have to feel ready to be chosen.”

The eaglet was not supposed to be there yet.
And yet — there it was.
Alive.
Growing.
Held.
Provided for.
Protected.

Not because the season was right.
But because the timing was divine.

Soul Lessons From God: Symbolism and The Lesson

The Symbolism — What Each Encounter Carried

Each encounter today held its own message, its own layer of truth, its own way of speaking into the places where I’ve been stretched thin. None of them stood alone. They were individual notes in a larger composition — a sequence of symbols that, when placed together, revealed the full meaning of the day. This was not random wildlife behavior. This was a spiritual conversation unfolding in real time.

The Red‑winged Blackbirds

They were the first voice — loud, insistent, impossible to ignore, yet completely hidden. Their chorus rose from the cattails like a pulse, a heartbeat beneath the surface of the world. I could hear them with absolute clarity, but I could not see a single one.

That is the essence of faith.

Guidance in the unseen.
The chorus beneath the surface.
Faith before sight.

The blackbirds reminded me that God often speaks long before He shows. The sound arrives before the form. The knowing arrives before the evidence. Yesterday, one blackbird revealed himself. Today, the unseen choir confirmed the message: trust what you hear before you see it.

The Adult Bald Eagles

The adults were the guardians of the threshold — sovereign, steady, unshaken. Their presence carried weight, the kind of weight that doesn’t need to move to be felt. They watched from above with the calm of beings who understand the larger picture.

Sovereignty.
Guardianship.
Divine oversight.
The assurance that destiny is already in motion.

They were the reminder that I am not navigating this alone. Something higher is holding the vantage point I cannot reach.

The Synchronized Flight

When the pair lifted from their perch and flew overhead in perfect unity, it was more than beauty — it was confirmation. Their wings moved as one, adjusting effortlessly to each other, gliding with a grace that felt choreographed by something greater.

Alignment.
Partnership.
Movement without resistance.
The ease of what is meant.

Their flight showed me that what is aligned does not strain. It simply moves.

The Eaglet

And then — the revelation. An eaglet standing in the nest in February, weeks ahead of any expected timeline. A life emerging before the world said it should.

Early emergence.
Unexpected beginnings.
Life arriving ahead of schedule.
The visible truth of what God has been preparing.

The eaglet was the moment the unseen became visible — the proof that what is meant for you will not wait for the “right” season. It will arrive when God says it’s time.

The Soul Lesson — Trust & Faith

When I step back and look at the day as a whole, the pattern is unmistakable. This wasn’t random. This wasn’t coincidence. This wasn’t luck.

This was orchestration.

This was revelation.

This was God speaking through wings and reeds and winter light, saying:

Trust what I’m showing you.
Trust what is emerging.
Trust what is arriving early.
Trust what is unfolding even when you cannot see it yet.
Trust the timing that doesn’t make sense to the world.
Trust the path that calls you forward.

This is not a story about endurance.
This is not a story about fortitude.
This is not a story about courage.

This is a story about faith.

Faith in the unseen.
Faith in the timing.
Faith in the emergence.
Faith in the God who reveals what has been growing long before you knew to look.

Today, the wild didn’t just speak.
It revealed.

And the revelation was simple, powerful, and unmistakably divine:

What is meant for you is already alive.
Already forming.
Already growing.
Already here.

This is the soul lesson:

Trust the unseen.
Trust the emergence.
Trust the God who shows you what has been waiting for you all along.

Soul Lessons from God: Trust & Faith Northern Harrier

When the World Rearranges Itself to Move You Forward

The Week That Pressed In

Some weeks arrive quietly, slipping into your life without disturbance. Others rise like a tide, slowly but steadily pulling you into deeper waters. And then there are the weeks that arrive like a hand on your back — firm, insistent, unmistakably divine. They don’t wait for your readiness. They don’t soften themselves to your comfort. They simply begin the work of moving you.

This was one of those weeks.

Everything felt amplified. The noise at home was relentless, the uncertainty about where to go next was heavy, and the disappointment of realizing one place wasn’t right left a hollow ache. The emotional exhaustion of holding too much was catching up to me. And then came the bite, the wind, the unhinged man, and the raptors — each moment sharp, charged, and strangely connected.

At first, it felt like chaos. But God rarely speaks in straight lines. God speaks in patterns — through pressure, through symbols, through the things that rise when you’re too tired to pretend you don’t see them. And the pattern of this week was unmistakable.

This was a week about trust.
A week about faith.
A week about being moved — not gently, but unmistakably — toward the next chapter.

The Harriers — The Feminine and the Emerging Self

It began in the fields, in the wide‑open quiet of Wattenburg. I had gone there to breathe, to think, to escape the noise and heaviness pressing in from every direction. I didn’t expect anything unusual. I certainly didn’t expect clarity. But clarity rarely arrives when you’re looking for it. It arrives when you’re honest enough to admit you’re lost.

A female Northern Harrier flew low across the field, close enough that I could see the softness of her round owl-like face and the sharpness of her focus. She wasn’t passing through. She was presenting herself. And then the juvenile joined her — circling, diving, mirroring her movements with earnest, unsteady confidence.

For weeks, I had misread what I was seeing. I thought I was watching two females. But on this day, something clicked. This was not a pair of equals. This was a guide and a becoming — the mature feminine and the emerging self, flying together in the same sky.

Harriers are intuitive hunters. They fly low to the ground, reading the land with a sensitivity other raptors don’t possess. They represent emotional truth, instinct, and the kind of knowing that comes from the body rather than the mind. The female was the part of me that already knows. The juvenile was the part of me that is learning to trust that knowing.

They flew together because something in me was finally aligning. The part of me that has survived everything and the part of me that is stepping into something new were no longer in conflict. They were circling the same field, reading the same wind, moving in the same direction.

This is why clarity broke through the next day.
This is why the old option fell away.
This is why the new direction felt like truth.

The harriers were the first message: trust what rises, trust what calls, trust the direction that feels like home.

Soul Lessons from God: The Bald Eagles

The Eagles — Sovereignty Watching From Above

Not far from the harriers, two eagles sat in a tree — silent, steady, unbothered by the activity around them. They were new to the area, but they carried themselves like they had always belonged there. They weren’t hunting. They weren’t calling. They were simply watching.

Eagles are the messengers of sovereignty. They represent destiny, long‑range vision, and divine orchestration. They don’t waste energy. They don’t react to noise. They see from above, from a perspective that makes everything else look small.

Their presence felt intentional. They were the overseers of the moment, the guardians of the threshold. They weren’t there to guide me emotionally — that was the harriers’ role. They were there to confirm something larger: that the next chapter was already chosen, already unfolding, already waiting for me to step into it.

Their stillness carried a message of its own — a reminder that sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is stop trying to force clarity and simply allow God to reveal what is already in motion. Trust is not passive. Trust is surrender to the larger movement of life.

The Bite — The Boundary God Wouldn’t Let Me Ignore

Then came the bite.

It wasn’t punishment. It wasn’t failure. It wasn’t a lesson in compassion. It was a boundary — sharp, sudden, and impossible to ignore.

I had allowed too many people into the room. I had been holding too much energy, absorbing too much noise, trying to keep the peace at the expense of my own safety. And God used the bite to say, with absolute clarity:

You cannot keep sacrificing yourself.
You cannot keep absorbing what isn’t yours.
You cannot keep holding the room for everyone else.

It wasn’t about the cat.
It was about the pattern.

The bite was the moment the pattern broke open. It was the moment God said, “Enough.” It hurt. It shook me. It forced me to confront the truth I had been avoiding: that protecting myself is not selfish — it is sacred.

Trust your limits.
Trust your instincts.
Trust that protecting yourself is holy.

The Human Layer — Confusion, Disappointment, and the Test of Trust

Before the red‑tail appeared, there was the human layer — the part of the week that pressed on old wounds and exposed the cracks in places I once hoped would be solid.

Working with raptors has always been a place of meaning for me, a place where I expected clarity, mentorship, and steadiness. But lately, it has been tangled. One person I once thought could be a true guide revealed himself to be something else entirely — inconsistent, confusing, more invested in his own image than in teaching. And the mentor standing in front of me now carries her own contradictions, her own sharp edges, her own unpredictability.

It’s hard to find footing in that. Hard to know who to trust. Hard to know where I stand. And yet — I showed up anyway.

I stood in the wind.
I did the work.
I held my ground.
I stayed present even when the dynamic felt unstable, even when the disappointment from the past and the confusion in the present pressed against each other.

It wasn’t just the weather that was testing me. It was the dysfunction, the uncertainty, the worry about what I’m stepping into, the fear that the place I hoped would be solid might not be.

And still — I made it through the day.

I didn’t collapse.
I didn’t retreat.
I didn’t lose myself.

I stayed aligned with the part of me that knows why I’m there — the part that listens to God, not to human inconsistency.

And only after that — after the emotional pressure, the spiritual test, the human confusion — did the red‑tail appear.

Because the red‑tail wasn’t just about endurance.
It was about confirmation.

Soul Lessons from God: The Red-Tailed Hawk

The Red‑Tail — Perseverance in Impossible Wind

The wind was brutal — wind gusts upwards of fifty miles per hour — cold, bitter, relentless, unyielding. It was the kind of wind that makes even the strongest birds retreat to shelter. But not this one.

A red‑tailed hawk was kiting in the storm, holding its position with fierce determination, diving when the moment was right, refusing to be pushed off course. It wasn’t waiting for better conditions. It wasn’t conserving energy. It was doing what it came to do, no matter the wind.

Red‑tails are the raptors of grit, survival, and endurance. They represent the part of the soul that refuses to give up, even when everything around you is working against you.

Watching that hawk was like watching a mirror of my own week — the pressure, the noise, the confusion, the exhaustion — and the quiet, stubborn truth beneath it all:

I am built for this.
I can withstand the wind.
I can move through pressure.
I can trust the strength God put in me.

And when two more red‑tails appeared — circling with him — the message deepened: you are not alone in this. Your lineage of strength is behind you.

The Angry Man Who Lost His Way — The Human Mirror

And then came the man at the store — explosive, reactive, projecting, collapsing into victimhood. The kind of moment you see in viral videos, except this time it was happening to me.

He wasn’t the lesson.
He was the confirmation.

He showed me how small people can be, how quickly they crumble, how easily they reveal their own wounds, how little their reactions have to do with me. And I didn’t absorb it. I didn’t shrink. I didn’t internalize it.

I laughed.

Not out of cruelty — but out of clarity. Because in that moment, I understood: not every storm is mine. Not every projection belongs to me. Not every wounded person is my responsibility.

Trust your discernment.
Trust your strength.
Trust that not every storm is yours to weather.

The Soul Lesson — Trust What God Is Moving

When I step back, the pattern is undeniable:

The harriers showed inner knowing.
The eagles showed destiny watching.
The bite showed boundaries.
The human dynamics showed discernment.
The red‑tail showed perseverance.
The clarity that rose the next day showed direction.

This was not a week of chaos.
This was a week of orchestration.

A week where God said:

Trust what I’m showing you.
Trust what I’m moving you toward.
Trust what I’m removing.
Trust what I’m revealing.
Trust what I’m strengthening in you.

This is not a story about courage.
This is not a story about endurance.

This is a story about faith.

Faith in the signs.
Faith in the movement.
Faith in the redirection.
Faith in the next chapter rising.
Faith in the God who speaks through wind and wings and pressure.

This is the soul lesson:

Trust the path even when everything is shaking.
Trust the guidance even when it arrives through discomfort.
Trust the shift even when it disrupts what you thought you wanted.
Trust the God who is moving you — because He is not wrong about you.

Soul Lessons from God: The Grace of Trust and Faith

The Grace of Trust and Faith: Overcoming Fear and Embracing Spiritual Growth

Trust and faith are not merely virtues; they are profound graces that form the backbone of spiritual growth. Each offers a unique, yet complementary, way to navigate life’s uncertainties and embrace its possibilities.

Trust is the act of believing—believing in ourselves, in our choices, and in the Divine guidance that steers us forward. It grounds us in the present moment, urging us to release the grip of fear and allow clarity to arise from within.

Faith, on the other hand, is the surrender to the unknown, a deep-rooted assurance that life’s unfolding is purposeful and guided by a higher wisdom. Together, these graces create a powerful framework for self-discovery, inner peace, and the resilience to face life’s challenges.

At their core, trust and faith are tools for overcoming fear. Fear often clouds our minds, disguising itself as doubt, hesitation, or the need to control outcomes. Trust cuts through this fog, reminding us of past victories and the strength we carry within.

It encourages us to act on our intuition, even when the path ahead is uncertain. Faith takes this one step further—it asks us to relinquish the need for guarantees, embracing life’s mysteries with confidence in the Divine plan.

By cultivating both trust and faith, we step into a flow of grace that silences fear, strengthens our resolve, and opens the door to transformation.

While these graces may seem elusive, they are not beyond reach. They can be nurtured through intentional practices—such as prayer, meditation, and self-reflection—that help us attune to the wisdom of the soul and the presence of the Divine.

With time and practice, trust and faith become more than concepts; they become lived experiences that empower us to navigate even the most challenging moments with courage and grace. They guide us to look inward for answers, align our actions with higher truths, and find peace in the balance of life’s polarities.

Together, they illuminate the spiritual path, reminding us that we are never alone and that every step forward carries the potential for growth and healing.

The Grace of Trust: Releasing Fear and Building Inner Strength

Trust is the foundation of inner stability, the ability to believe in ourselves, our choices, and the guidance of the Divine even when uncertainty surrounds us.

It asks us to let go of the fear that whispers, we are not enough or that the path ahead is insurmountable. Trust is the grace that helps silence these inner demons, those persistent doubts and fears—and reminds us that we have the strength to overcome anything.

This grace encourages us to draw on positive inner messages and memories, reminding us of the times we trusted our instincts and made powerful choices. Trust allows us to revisit those experiences, grounding ourselves in the knowledge that we have faced challenges before and can do so again.

One of the hardest aspects of trust is overcoming the influence of others’ fears. Sometimes, the anxieties of those around us seep into our own consciousness, disguised as logical advice or ordinary conversation.

Trust acts as a protective shield, allowing us to recognize these fears for what they are and detach from their influence. Prayer, meditation, or mindfulness creates a field of grace around us, helping us identify and release the illusion of fear.

Through trust, we find clarity in the face of uncertainty and learn to stand firm in our own truth, empowering us to make choices guided by intuition rather than hesitation.

The Grace of Faith: Embracing the Unknown and Building Self-Belief

Faith is the companion to trust, urging us to surrender to the unknown with confidence in the Divine plan and the unfolding of our own potential. This grace helps us rise above the need for control, teaching us to trust not only in higher guidance but also in ourselves. Faith invites us to see setbacks not as failures but as steppingstones, to recognize struggles as opportunities for growth.

Cultivating faith begins with small but powerful acts of self-trust. For example, keeping a promise to yourself, whether committing to meditating each morning or completing a meaningful project—builds the foundation for greater confidence. These seemingly simple acts remind us that we are capable, reliable, and deserving of our own belief.

Faith also empowers us to overcome survival fears, those primal doubts that convince us we must cling to the familiar to remain safe. By stepping into faith, we release these fears and open ourselves to transformation. Consider the leap of starting a new business or pursuing a dream—faith gives us the courage to trust in our ability to adapt, learn, and thrive even in uncharted territory.

This grace also deepens our connection to intuition. Having confidence in ourselves enables us to trust our inner guidance, allowing it to direct us towards aligning with our true purpose. Over time, faith strengthens both our relationship with ourselves and with the Divine, becoming a beacon of light that guides us forward.

Overcoming the Challenges of Trust and Faith

The path to cultivating trust and faith is not without its difficulties. Doubts, fears, and societal conditioning often stand as barriers to these graces, making it challenging to release the need for control or to embrace the uncertainty that life presents.

Trust and faith require us to break free from deeply ingrained patterns of hesitation and resistance, a process that can feel daunting but ultimately leads to profound transformation.

Fear is often the first and most persistent obstacle in developing trust and faith. It disguises itself as caution or logic, weaving into our inner dialogue and convincing us to avoid risks or change. Recognizing fear for what it is—a temporary and manageable state—is the first step to overcoming it.

Through practices like prayer, meditation, or quiet reflection, we can create space to examine our fears and loosen their hold over us. These moments of stillness build a protective field of grace around us, allowing us to reconnect with our inner truth and recognize the strength we hold.

Surrounding ourselves with symbols of trust—such as affirmations, meaningful memories, or tangible reminders of past successes—further reinforces our resilience and helps us silence doubts.

Faith, closely tied to trust, invites us to go deeper by surrendering to the unknown. For many, this surrender feels counterintuitive, how can we release control when uncertainty feels overwhelming. The key lies in small but consistent acts of self-belief.

Setting achievable goals, such as committing to a daily meditation practice or following through on a personal promise, establishes the foundation for faith. Each time we honor our word; we affirm our ability to rely on ourselves and the wisdom of our inner guidance. Over time, these small victories accumulate, gradually expanding our capacity to face larger challenges with courage and trust.

The challenges of trust and faith are further compounded by external influences—the fears and doubts of others that often infiltrate our own thoughts. These external fears can disguise themselves as well-meaning advice or cautionary tales, clouding our judgment.

Protecting ourselves from such influences requires clarity and intention. By recognizing these fears as separate from our own, we can detach from their effects and remain anchored in our truth.

Developing trust and faith is a lifelong process, one that asks for patience and dedication. Although obstacles may persist, the rewards are undeniable. These graces empower us to navigate life with confidence, courage, and serenity.

They remind us that even in the face of uncertainty, we carry the tools to overcome challenges and embrace the unknown with open hearts. Trust and faith illuminate the spiritual journey, guiding us toward healing and transformation.

The Grace of Trust and Faith: A Lifelong Journey

Trust and faith are profound and transformative graces that serve as the foundation for spiritual growth and self-discovery. These twin virtues empower us to release fear, navigate life’s uncertainties, and embrace the fullness of our spiritual journey.

They are not simply passive states of belief but active practices that deepen our connection to the Divine and strengthen our alignment with our true selves. Together, trust and faith guide us toward integrity, purpose, and inner peace, enabling us to live more fully and authentically.

The grace of trust invites us to believe in our ability to overcome challenges and to find steadiness in life’s ebb and flow. It grounds us in the knowledge that, even when circumstances seem uncertain, we are capable of navigating them with clarity and resilience.

Trust allows us to silence the voice of doubt, affirming that we have the inner strength and wisdom to handle what comes our way. This grace helps us look inward and listen to the quiet yet powerful guidance of our intuition, reminding us that we are stronger and more capable than we often realize.

Faith complements trust by urging us to surrender to the unknown, placing confidence in the Divine plan and the unfolding of our personal path. It is the assurance that even when we cannot see the full picture, every step forward has meaning and purpose.

Faith asks us to let go of the need for control, choosing instead to embrace life’s mysteries with courage and openness. In doing so, we align ourselves with the flow of Divine wisdom, trusting that every twist and turn serves a higher good.

These graces work together to transform how we approach life’s challenges. They do not promise to eliminate obstacles, but they do empower us to meet them with strength and grace.

Trust grounds us in self-belief, while faith inspires us to move forward even when the path is unclear. Both remind us that we are never alone, as we are always supported by the light of the Divine and the connections we share with others.

Cultivating trust and faith is a lifelong process, one that requires patience, dedication, and intentional practice. Prayer, meditation, and reflection help us nurture these graces, allowing them to become central to our lives.

As we develop trust and faith, we open ourselves to transformation—not through the absence of difficulty but through the clarity, confidence, and grace with which we approach it. Each step we take, no matter how small, leads us closer to light, unity, and a deeper understanding of our place within the greater tapestry of existence.