Page 15 of Unclench Me Softly

I open one eye. “I said let go.”

Asher is breathing so earnestly I’m afraid he might hyperventilate. His hands are resting on his knees like he Googled “how to be open to spiritual guidance” on the drive here.

“Good,” I say, eyes closed again. “Now, visualize your ego as a tightly clenched fist. Picture it slowly… unclenching. Each finger, releasing. Relaxing. Melting into the moss of your inner self.”

“What if my inner self’s got thorns?” Jax asks.

“That’s why we unclench,” I say through a smile.

A long, awkward silence follows. I can feel them resisting the experience in two wildly different ways. Jax with his arms still crossed, jaw tight; Asher sitting so still he might actually ascend.

I reach into my basket of random spiritual crap and pull out two stones. One is a rose quartz palm stone. The other is a river rock I may or may not have stolen from the koi pond.

I hand them out like sacred homework.

“Now,” I say calmly, “Pass these stones between you. With intention. And eye contact.”

Asher blinks. “Wait, like, to each other?”

“Yes. You’re exchanging grounded energy. Think of it as the beginning of a bond,” I say.

Jax smirks. “You’re making us rock bond.”

I smile serenely. “Do you want to start over with the trauma bucket?”

They both shut up and awkwardly pass the rocks.

It’s the most uncomfortable, hilarious thing I’ve ever seen.

I almost feel bad. Almost.

“Very good,” I murmur. “You are now both slightly more aligned. Slightly. We’ll get there.”

I rise gracefully, if one can rise gracefully in a robe that’s stuck to one thigh with humidity, and clasp my hands together.

“That concludes our spontaneous masculine energy synchronization. Please hydrate, journal your insights, and stay on schedule moving forward, or I will be forced to introduce Breathwork of Consequence.”

Jax mutters something under his breath. Asher bows his head like we just finished a TED Talk. I walk away before either of them can ask a single question.

A Note from Bliss on the Sacred Function of Blank Pages

To maintain energetic harmony (and because the publishing gods demand that chapters begin on odd-numbered pages), you may occasionally encounter a full blank page in a book. I like to think of it not as a void, but as a sacred pause, an uncluttered moment to breathe, reflect, or ask your inner cub why you’re emotionally spiraling at page 217.

But let’s be honest, blank pages can feel unsettling.

Too much space invites thoughts.

Thoughts lead to journaling.

Journaling leads to full moon texts you regret.

So instead of leaving you in the abyss, I’ve filled these pages with ritual debris: workshop fragments, rogue quotes, emotional snack interpretations, and other spiritually questionable content that may, or may not, guide your awakening.

Feel free to use them for meditation, mischief, or spontaneous laughter-snorting in inappropriate locations.

Remember: not every page has to move the plot forward.

Some just hold the glitter.

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