81: how I make space for Divine downloads in and out of crisis

on walking, whispering, and why I never underestimate the power of five deep breaths

Morning walks are so refreshing, especially on low-traffic streets. The back roads, as I like to call them.

When I was apartment hunting, one of my non-negotiables was having at least 3–5 walking routes nearby, each about 3–5 miles long.

Last week, I walked a quiet two-mile loop. Just a touch of main road. Mostly back roads. Still. Green. Beautiful.

The peace?

Sublime.

That’s when the ideas start to flow.

I do my best work when I’m not at work—on walks, in the shower, decorating my planner, folding a sheet.

It’s like my brain needs to be lightly occupied for the honey to flow. The gold comes in the gaps.

That’s why I crave space in my day.

Time for walks and long showers.
Time to pause.

I get the same effect when I meditate. Just silence. Breath.

When life is coming at you hard, it’s easy to sacrifice those spaces. You start moving from one crisis to the next. You feel like you can’t breathe. Like the pause is a luxury you can’t afford.

That’s how I felt for years.

But I took small sips of space when I could.
Five breaths. Five minutes in a cushy chair.
A moment of nothing.

Because without those moments, I was just reacting—making short-term decisions that solved short-term problems but created long-term ones.

Now? I take the long walk.
And the full downloads come through.

Where I once felt alone, unable to hear the voice of my Invisible Collective—the Divine—I now feel Its presence fully.

I wish I could say I always hear clearly. That even in the thick of crises, I get full messages. I don’t.

In crisis, I get whispers.
Nudges.
And if I’m not paying attention, I miss them.

So, I make the space. Always.

If all I have is five minutes or five breaths, I take it.

When I have more than space—when I have spaciousness—I bask in it.

There was a time when I felt frustrated with clients who said they couldn’t meditate for 30 minutes. I didn’t believe them. I lacked grace. Empathy.

Not anymore.

Now I know.
Those silent stretches are sacred.
I want more of them.

I yearn for a life of silent stretches, full downloads, and the reverie of following through—luxurious time to act on Divine guidance.

Hours rapt in joy. Time standing still and rushing forward all at once.

That’s my soft life.
My Barista FI.
That’s what I mean when I say I want to be a woman of pleasure.

It’s not a life of no production.

It’s a prolific life—because I have the space.
The luxury.

Where do you find your space?

Not just time, but true space—the kind that lets your shoulders drop. Deepens your breath. Lets new thoughts emerge or old truths land with more weight.

What’s your version of the long walk?

Maybe it's journaling on the porch, playing your favorite playlist on a drive, or sitting in silence before the rest of the house wakes.

Whatever it is, I hope you give yourself more of it. Not in sips—though those help too—but in long, luxurious gulps.

My prayer for you is that you create some space.

In Joy,
Nneka
Trini born sage and Oracle

PS: If this letter sparked something in you, would you pass it along to a friend who also craves more space, more breath, and more beauty in their life? They might need this reminder too. 💛