October 7, 2025, kerryk.com
https://tinyurl.com/yc53h7k9
What if your hardest moments were never meant to break you, but to reveal your light? In this spiritual how-to, I share the two steps that turn pain into power – the same steps that return us to healing, truth, and sacred stillness.
Healing is not about perfection
Healing is not about perfection. It’s about authenticity. That is what melts the scaffolding of illusion and restores truth. We cannot demand truth from others while we are still broadcasting illusion, however big or small. In what follows I will share my own inner workings with you, expose my authentic Kerry-ness, and trust that your ripple will carry it forward in whatever way serves you most.
We Are the Prophecy
We stand at the threshold of humanity taking its next step, a quantum leap into personal power, and for that to happen we must stop externalising power and finally claim back our potential. Embedded within our DNA are the keycodes of the Universe. We are descendants of cosmic humans, etched with destiny and legacy, here to fulfil what we once promised. We are the prophecy, and we are only just beginning to become what we came here to be.
The Power Has Always Been Within
What comes next is not arriving from the outside. It is not hiding in politics or religion or in the next spiritual trend. It is already here, waiting within us, written into our DNA, calling us to stop externalising our power and claim it back.
The Wave That’s Moving Through Us
There is a massive wash of energy moving through our realm right now. Some name it Christ light returning, others feel it as a spiritual revival, still others describe it as forgiveness, as love, as clearing. Each name is a facet, but the jewel is the same. A single wave, breaking into many ripples and moving through every heart willing to receive it.
That is what comes next. That is what opens the door.
The Role of Failure and Humility
But we only access these gifts when we reclaim the power we once externalised. What follows is a tender guide through a day of darkness I recently navigated, offered so that my stumbling might light your way. Failure is not a flaw; it is a potent teacher. It does not arrive to shame us but to shape us. It bends us where we are rigid, breaks open what was closed, and shows us the path we could not see.
To learn from failure, humility must lead the way. Humility is the quiet companion that awakens courage even when we are certain we have none. When humility steps forward, courage appears, and failure, the seasoned guide, ushers us into quantum leaps we never imagined possible.
Blame and the Loss of Power
Yet we were taught to disown failure, and in doing so we disowned our ability to learn, to grow, and to evolve. Instead of facing our own, we were trained to fix our gaze on the failings of others. We call that blame. And blame is nothing more than externalised power, scattering our energy outward and keeping us from the very growth we came here for.
We have been ushered into a defunct place of externalised power, propped up by externalised blame. This mechanism has kept us from internalising our power and switching our Christ light back on. Now is the time for this wave of consciousness to land fully with the lightworkers. Let us allow ourselves to see our own shortcomings proudly, to learn powerfully, to embody boldly, and to activate the love we were always too afraid to be and never realised we were capable of.
A Day of Darkness Becomes a Lesson in Light
What follows is me picking apart my failings but first let me frame what I mean. When I speak of “my failings” I am not talking about shame or defeat; I am talking about my learning curve, a momentary wobble on the path. These moments matter because they let me give you a step-by-step account of what to do when you find yourself in the funk.
Rather than free-falling in frequency, I want to show you how to reclaim your light when you recognise you’ve stepped into density.
The healing lives in two simple steps
- Step 1: See it … Sounds simple, but it’s hard to see something that you’re technically blind to.
- Step 2: Take responsibility, not blame, so that you can master your own healing … finally.
I know these steps sound simple, and they are, but simple does not mean easy. Let’s start with step number 1, it’s simple enough to see what’s right in front of you, but what happens when it’s sitting in a blind spot? The very nature of a blind spot is that you are blind to it.
This is where the simple thing of seeing what is right in front of you is not so easy. But don’t you worry, I’ve got a plan. Instead of me asking you to see your own blind spots, I’ll show you mine because they’re so obvious. If you can recognise mine, you’ll have the recipe to recognise your own
Quick note before we get going on step 1: seeing is not analysing. Seeing is acknowledging, neutral, non-linear. Analysis traps you in the mental realm, where healing cannot happen. I am not asking you to analyse yourself, only to meet yourself authentically and feel what is real for you.
Step One: See It
Here is an example from this week:
With a deep sigh and heaviness in the chest, I watched a media personality attack a grieving widow, calling her names and laughing at her pain. The trauma was personal; I know grief intimately. I wanted to bash the talk show host over the head, to scream, to cry, to vent and a whole lot more. The thought came into my head: “I don’t want to live in a world where hate is on display with a ready audience.”
I’m going to show you how I processed this so that you can see the mechanics for yourself, because it is astonishingly easy to:
- Unwittingly disempower your own light
- Unknowingly empower darkness
- Be directly impacted by the amplified darkness
- And then return to the light and to a higher truth
When the World’s Pain Becomes Our Own
Here’s how it started, I had a day that started out rough, ended beautifully – but the catalyst was unexpected. I watched a talk show host make fun of a widow and lately I’ve seen a lot of that mockery and realised how weaponised it has become, how humanity has been bent and shaped, not by a physical whip but by the crack of mockery.
The show had my attention, the comments made my eyes sting with tears, I was invested emotionally, and I tried not to be. I closed my eyes as if to separate from the hateful comments I had heard, but they replayed without my permission, again and again. My pulse quickened, the stress levels elevated, and I was awash with rage.
How can hatred, so out in the open, so applauded and celebrated, be so unchecked? How can humanity have lost their way this much. That one really stung; I felt so forlorn, and I felt grief rising. The murmurings inside me said, how can they not see?! How can they not know that they are falling further away from God?
The hurt that I felt was enormous, and it was bringing up everything from my own sadness at humanity’s fall to my own grief that I had not fully finished grieving. Awash with so much emotion, I didn’t cry, I just raged. I raged silently and inwardly. I was hot, not the super-model kind – the Kerry-about-to-burst-a-blood-vessel kind.
Not even my off-beat sense of humour could pull me out of where I was going. Soon the faintest whisper rose inside me: “It’s all just too much. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to live on a planet with this much hatred.” This was the moment I knew something was very wrong, because those whisperings were not my own. That was darkness speaking through me. I had fallen in frequency.
My focus on their shortcomings became an arrow that I pierced myself with. When I mourned how lost they were, I became lost. When I saw their hatred, it became an echo of pain that I felt. Misery was no longer something I was observing, it was something I was experiencing in myself.
When the pain said, “It’s too much” and “I can’t do this” and eventually “I don’t want to be here”. That’s when I knew it wasn’t Kerry speaking anymore. I have three children and a husband I adore; I have the life I couldn’t have even dared to dream of and with all of these blessings you better believe me … I want to be here! For all of it.
Every second of it is a bountiful, beautiful gift that I’m ready to dive into and see what grace and goodness lies beyond it. Where had that old whisper come from?
Step Two: Take Responsibility Without Blame
Now we come to step number two: taking responsibility. I’m about to walk you through my shift from projecting the pain outward to reclaiming it. Responsibility is not about blame – let’s see what it actually looks like.
How could I have done this differently? The moment I heard someone celebrating the agony of another human being, it triggered me, but I blocked what it was triggering. It was touching my own grief that I had not yet cried out, a distant something inside that wanted to say, “I’m in pain too.”
Pain longs to be witnessed and validated but not pandered to. It does not want me to drop to my knees and feel sorry for it, or to merge with it so that I sink into it. Pain simply wants to be seen, observed, acknowledged – and then allowed to move. That part of me was carrying the grief of everything, waiting for its chance to be felt.
Grief has a way of gathering everything. It may begin as sorrow for living alongside hateful people and then pull in the grief of a pet long gone or a loved one we have not yet finished mourning. It collects itself into one overwhelming wave of heartbreak. Instead of letting that wave break, I shoved it back down. I saw someone being mocked, and instead of allowing my true reaction to surface – which was to mourn, just like the one being ridiculed – I acted brave and forced it under a mask of anger.
Whenever we meet a wave of emotion that feels too big, we fear it will engulf us. We imagine we do not have the strength to meet it, so we shrink instead of rise. In that shrinking, we refuse what is ours to give safe passage to, and rage becomes the mechanism that makes the refusal possible. Instead of letting ourselves be vulnerable, we cover it with armour.
Instead of unlocking the gift of meeting what was rising, I pushed it back down again. Call it the habit of being human.
Here’s how I could have handled it far more powerfully.
I could have allowed that wave of sorrow to crest and break, to rise fully and then be released. I could have been powerful enough to cry, to let the tears bring up what I had felt many times before and kept deciding was just too big for that moment.
This all unfolded within a single day – please do not think I lost myself to it. I did not. I am simply grateful to see it so clearly now, to describe the mechanics, to lay them out here for you, and hopefully to support you in the process. Yes, I shed the tears, and yes, the pain eased. And rather than drift from the path, let me return us to the step by step I was laying out for you.
Observing Without Self-Blame
And as I lay this out for you, notice what I am actually doing. I am observing. I am being humble, open, real, vulnerable, authentic. What I am not doing is blaming myself. There is no berating here, because the moment we berate ourselves it is no longer responsibility, it’s a pity trip.
Taking responsibility is what makes you powerful. It does not diminish you; it restores you. It allows you to embody your power – not to hope for it someday, but to know in your bones what true, living power feels like. Responsibility is the key.
From Rage to Presence
The moment my own emotions surfaced, here is what I realised.
Hate happens. It is not my job to stop it – my job is to be love. Hate is not powerful enough to stop me, but my harrowing realisation was that, for a few hours at least, I had inadvertently made it more powerful than my light. More powerful than love. Even more powerful than truth, because I chose to gravitate toward rage.
Rage was my cop-out, the emotion I believed was safer than vulnerability. In that choice, my truth was hidden beneath the armour of anger, pressed tight against the very vulnerability that wanted to free me.
In that lost state, I believed vulnerability was not safe. But the truth is that it was safe, it only felt terrifying because something bottled for so long was finally breaking free. By opting for rage, because it seemed easier than vulnerability, I was blocking my own healing.
Rage is never a safe place to hide. Armour only protects when it is worn, which means if I use rage to shield me from vulnerability, I can never take it off. I would have to live in permanent defence, always on guard. And worse still, that armour keeps me locked out of the grief that only wanted release. Instead of freeing it, I was locking it in.
Becoming the Light in Dark Places
When I armoured myself against vulnerability, I became lost – the very thing I judged. In seeing others as lost, and letting the sadness of that engulf me, I was contributing to the very thing I was witnessing. I did not become the light in which they could find themselves. I became another lost soul, albeit momentarily.
Darkness works this way: you cannot place your focus on it without standing inside it yourself. The remedy is not to avoid darkness, but to be light in dark places. That is how pain is alchemised into healing. It is a sobering thought, isn’t it – that we feed darkness, that we nourish it with our own life force, whether knowingly or unknowingly, whenever it holds our focus without the balance of light.
Alchemy in Motion
When I became aware of this, the remedy was instant, obvious, almost effortless. Kerry, take your light with you. The armour dropped, rage dissolved like the flimsy shield it was, and I was met by everything waiting beneath the surface. And just as so often happens, the emotions I had avoided were not nearly as big as I had imagined. Pain almost always seems larger in the shadows than it does in the light.
I met the tears with authentic presence. To be present, in presence, as presence itself – this is one of the foundational teachings of my work, something I guide in great depth within my membership community, the Plasma Light Tribe.
Once I dropped into that presence, my soul could enter fully, and alchemy began to unfold. There was no narrator in my head. I was not analysing or performing. I was simply here, in being. All that filled my awareness was a peace that stretched far beyond me.
It touched the walls of the room I sat in, then rippled through my neighbourhood, across my country, and into the oceans. The world was traversed in seconds without me directing it, carried only by the potency of compassion in motion. But compassion could rise only because I softened. Because I stopped controlling the pain, and instead gave it the right to be seen.
The Return of Light
And then, just like that, my light was back – but not as it was. It returned bolder, brighter, more luminous. The healing had unfolded, and my energy was restored. I was no longer the unconscious victim of a previously disowned wound. I had become the medicine, not the one drinking the toxin.
And in that moment, I wanted to be here even more. Life felt more vibrant, love more loving, presence more alive. And the show host who sparked all of this? I almost forgot about her. She has my unending gratitude, because she held the darkness that revealed my own light. What a gift.
What I’ve shared with you here is one moment, one alchemy, one day where awareness and grace met in real time. But this work goes far deeper than a single story. In the Plasma Light Tribe, we enter the living field where these principles are no longer ideas but direct energetic experiences. It’s where neutrality becomes sacred, where emotion transforms before your eyes, and where the frequency of love does the teaching.
Walking Each Other Home
This is not the first time I have walked this path. For many years I guided others through their darkest moments, just as I have walked you through mine now. Again and again I saw the same moment: the instant they lost their footing, and the way home. Because of that work, and because of my own continued practice, I can move through depths of density quickly, sometimes in hours, sometimes in moments. And so can you.
