God, Divinity, and the Universe Within

Faith, creativity, and connection to the divine have been guiding forces in my life. They’ve shaped how I see the world, navigate challenges, and express myself as an artist and a human being. Over the years, my understanding of God, the Universe, and spirituality has grown through deeply personal experiences—moments that have shown me, again and again, that I am not alone.

This isn’t a post about religion or rules. It’s not about fitting into a specific doctrine or way of thinking. It’s about what I’ve come to know: that divinity is everywhere and within each of us. It’s about trusting yourself, following the signs, and turning inward for guidance. My hope is that by sharing my story, you’ll be reminded that you, too, are never alone. The divine is always with you, supporting you, and guiding you toward your purpose.

A Foundation of Belief

Growing up, my understanding of God came from a mix of experiences. I went to Catholic Mass with a family that helped babysit me, Buddhist temple with my Nana, and had conversations with my dad, who was agnostic. It was a lot of different perspectives at once, and it shaped the way I saw spirituality. I learned early on that belief doesn’t have to fit into a box. God, or whatever you call the divine, doesn’t belong to one group or one set of rules.

I believe in God, the Universe, or just the Source of everything. I also believe in guardian angels. They show up when you need them, even if you don’t realize it at the time. For me, my connection to the divine has been solidified through a series of moments over the years. Some of those experiences were subtle, while others were impossible to ignore.

Seeing and Feeling the Divine

One of the most profound moments happened during a guided visualization with a woman named Natalia. She helped me connect with one of my guardian angels—my great-grandmother. I’d never met her or even seen a photo of her, but in the vision, she appeared as clearly as if she were standing in front of me. I could see every detail of her face, and somehow, she felt familiar. She told me things about my family that I later confirmed with my mom were true. That moment shifted everything for me. I realized this was real—she was real. Funny enough, I’m named after her. Her name was Regina, and my daughter is named after my nana, Rose. These connections run deep.

I’ve had other moments where I’ve felt that connection to the divine. When I was about ten years old, I was home alone after school. My Nana and my uncle, who’s only a few years older than me, weren’t home. I was sitting in the living room watching TV when I noticed something flickering in the bathroom. At first, I ignored it, but the feeling that something was there wouldn’t go away. I looked again, and there was a figure standing in the doorway. He was wearing a fisherman’s hat, a rolled-up button-down shirt, and cargo pants. I panicked and ran to my Nana’s room, where I always felt safe. I pushed her heavy dresser against the door and called her. She stayed calm and told me not to worry, that whatever it was couldn’t hurt me. I believed her. I stayed locked in the room until she came home.

At the time, I was terrified. I thought it was a ghost and couldn’t understand what I had seen. Looking back, though, I realize I didn’t feel threatened. There was something calm about his presence that I couldn’t process as a child.

Years later, when I was about 30, I participated in a past life regression exercise at a work event. I went in not taking it seriously, but about halfway through, I decided to give it a real shot. In the vision, I saw myself as a man—the same man I saw in the bathroom when I was ten.

In the vision, I was walking from a jungle and onto a beach. The sand was light brown and fine, soft beneath my feet. The beach was stunning, with clear water that stretched out to the horizon. I noticed a boat at the shore, with people laughing, hanging out, and music playing. As I approached, the people on the boat greeted me warmly, calling out and waving. It felt natural, familiar, like I belonged. It turned out to be my boat.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that this beach was Guam. The landscape, the vibe, even the way the people welcomed me—it all felt connected to my roots, to my Nana’s home. The experience was vivid, so much so that I could feel the sand, hear the music, and sense the connection I had to the people there. I was overcome with emotion. The man I was in the vision—the same figure I had seen as a child—was at the center of it all.

I couldn’t believe it. I was so overwhelmed with emotion I had to leave the session. I didn’t know what to do with that information at the time, but it added another layer to my belief in the interconnectedness of everything. It wasn’t just a past life or a vision—it felt like a piece of myself that I hadn’t understood before.

The Turning Point: Asking for Proof

After college, I had a conversation with a friend about faith. I told her I wasn’t sure what I believed. I wanted to believe in God, but I needed proof. She told me, “Just ask God to reveal himself to you.” So, I did. I prayed for clarity, and I started paying attention to the world around me. Slowly, I began to notice signs—little things that felt too specific to be coincidences. They weren’t loud or obvious, but they were there. Over time, those signs became undeniable, and my faith grew.

Since that first time, I’ve continued to ask God to reveal himself to me when I need clarity or reassurance. The more I do it, the more certain I become of God or the Universe. This practice has guided me through some of my biggest decisions and moments of conflict. I always seek out God or my guardian angels for guidance, and I always follow. It’s the one thing that has gotten me to where I am today.

The Birth of My Daughter

Throughout my pregnancy, there were moments that felt too specific to be coincidences. Early on, I was terrified. I wasn’t sure I could handle it, but I turned to God and to my Nana for guidance. I asked for clarity, for strength, and for peace. And in the moments I needed it most, I got it. When I found out I was having a girl during the anatomy scan, Sam Smith’s song “Lay Me Down” was playing. Certain parts of the song reminded me so deeply of my Nana. It was like she was there, telling me this was her way of guiding me, that this child was part of her plan. I clung to those moments of reassurance.

In March 2021, during my pregnancy, I faced one of the scariest times of my life. It was the height of COVID-19, and I found myself alone after my partner was hospitalized with complications from his pre-existing condition. At the same time, I tested positive for COVID, and the fear of how it might affect my baby was overwhelming. I remember lying sick in bed, praying not just for myself but for her. I begged God to protect her. I remember saying, “I’ll be the sacrifice, just protect her.” It was during that time, in the stillness of my fear, that I felt connected to her for the first time. I realized how much I already loved her and how much I was willing to do for her. It was a turning point, not just in my pregnancy but in how I saw myself as her mother.

As my due date approached, I couldn’t help but hope she’d be born a Leo, not a Virgo. I joked with myself that if she was born a Leo, it would be another sign from my Nana, one final touch of her guidance. On August 19, just two days before my daughter’s birth, I went for a pedicure with my mom and aunt. When we walked into the parking lot, there was a massive double rainbow stretching across the sky. Everyone stopped to look at it, taking pictures and marveling at its beauty. I couldn’t help but think it was for me. It felt like another confirmation that something divine was at work.

The next day, I lost my mucus plug. Later that day, a ladybug appeared on my bedspread—a completely white bedspread in the middle of summer in Florida. I’d never seen a ladybug in the house before, and it felt like yet another sign. That night was a rare blue moon. I knew she was coming. On the morning of August 21, my mom—who was staying with me to help—told me she had a dream that my Nana came to her and told her to take me to the hospital. I wasn’t in active labor yet, but I trusted her. We drove to the hospital, and sure enough, I was already 5–6 centimeters dilated. They admitted me right away.

Labor wasn’t easy. I wanted a natural birth, but the contractions were intense. I opted for Pitocin, but I stayed committed to doing it without pain medication. By the time I was 7–8 centimeters dilated, I regretted my decision. The pain was unbearable, and I wanted to give up. At 9 centimeters, I was struggling. That’s when it happened. I closed my eyes, and suddenly, I saw my Nana. It was vivid and real. She didn’t speak, but her face was there, clear and close. Her expression said everything I needed to hear: You’ve got this. Don’t give up.

Her presence gave me the strength I didn’t think I had. It was the push I needed to keep going. At 9:31 p.m. on August 21, 2021, my daughter was born. She was a Leo, born on the last day of Leo season. Everything about her arrival felt divine. I knew my Nana had guided me, not just during labor but throughout the entire pregnancy. Her spirit was with me, reassuring me, comforting me, and helping me bring this little soul into the world.

Holding my daughter for the first time, I understood the depth of God’s love. I felt the universe move through me in a way I never had before. Giving birth was more than physical—it was proof of the divine, a connection to something greater. It was the moment I truly knew what it meant to be guided, loved, and supported by forces I couldn’t always see but always felt.

What I Believe About God

One thing I don’t believe is that God punishes us. That idea has never made sense to me, especially growing up around Catholics who talked about God punishing us for our sins and the ability to repent to erase them. Why would a loving God need to punish us in the first place? I don’t think we’re here to suffer or to prove ourselves. I think we’re here to share our gifts, connect with one another, and spread love. We’re not being tested; we’re being supported. I believe we’re loved unconditionally, no matter what.

I also don’t believe that God tells us what to do. I think we can be moved or guided, but the idea that God would directly command someone—especially to do something harmful—just doesn’t sit right with me. When I hear people, especially religious extremists, claim that “God told them to,” it feels more like a reflection of their own issues than anything divine. God doesn’t work like that. Divinity is about love, connection, and growth—not control or harm.

What’s hard for me to reconcile is the hypocrisy I’ve seen among many Christians. So many preach the word of God but don’t walk the walk. If they truly followed the Bible, they’d live by its core principles: love thy neighbor, help the sick, feed the poor. It’s that simple. There is no judgment in those actions—only love and service. And yet, some of the most judgmental people I know are Christians. They go to church every Sunday, but something is missing in their soul.

Creativity as a Spiritual Practice

For me, being an artist is deeply spiritual. To create is to tap into something greater than yourself. Every brushstroke, every design, every idea—it all feels connected to a source that’s bigger than me. I’ve come to realize that everything is spiritual. The process of making something from nothing, of translating an emotion or a vision into something tangible, is inherently divine.

When I create, I rely heavily on my intuition. I don’t always have a plan or a sketch; I just start, trusting that the work will take me where it needs to go. That trust comes from my connection to the divine. It’s not about control or forcing things to happen—it’s about listening and allowing.

Being a creative means living with vulnerability. You put parts of yourself into your work, knowing it might be misunderstood or even rejected. That vulnerability is spiritual too. It’s about surrendering, trusting that what you create will find the people it’s meant for.

Trust the Divine Within You

At the heart of all of this, what I hope to leave you with is a reminder: you are divine. The answers you seek aren’t somewhere out there—they’re within you. Connecting to the divine doesn’t require a church, a ritual, or someone else’s approval. It’s personal, and it’s yours to explore. Trust yourself. Trust that quiet voice, that nudge, that feeling. Seek out what feels right for you, and don’t be afraid to ask for clarity or guidance. The Universe, God, or whatever you call it, is always there, ready to show you the way. You just need to listen. You are loved, you are supported, and you are capable of creating a life filled with purpose, connection, and grace. Turn inward, trust what you find, and let it guide you.