Finding Each Other in a Fractured World
In the days following the Bondi shooting, I spent time in stillness, sitting by the water’s edge and allowing feelings to move through me.
Collective shock has a way of stripping away surface thinking and leaving us face-to-face with what we actually feel. We are quick to create distance, not because reconnection is hard, but because awareness moves in recognisable stages we rarely pause to notice.
Earlier that day, before the events at Bondi had unfolded, I came across the phrase “You-n-i-verse.” It echoed in my head. Rather than analysing it, I took it into meditation and into quiet conversation with my guides and angels.
When I sat with it, the word opened. What emerged wasn’t just a phrase, but a living map of consciousness.
Slowed down, the universe reveals a journey of awareness:
You and I verse.
You and I, verse.
Universe.
These are not ideals to reach or identities to claim. They are states of perception we move through fluidly, sometimes within the same day. Each one is valid. Each one teaches something essential about what it means to be human.
The first stage is the You and I verse, shaped by versus.
Here, life is experienced as “me versus you,” “us versus them,” “safe versus unsafe.”
Consciousness is learning individuality. Identity forms. Boundaries matter. The ego is active, not as a problem to fix, but as a necessary organiser of experience.
Awareness moves through survival, belonging, and self-definition. Competition, comparison, and conflict can arise because the self is learning where it ends and the world begins. This stage is not something to transcend quickly. Without a strong sense of “I,” there would be nothing to soften later.
It doesn’t take much to slip into separation.
A comment. A headline. A moment of fear or threat. Almost instantly, awareness contracts. We become defensive. We notice a difference. We draw lines between “me” and “you,” “us” and “them.” The body tightens. The mind looks for certainty. This is the You and I verse in action, consciousness experiencing life through versus.
What’s striking is not that this happens, but how quickly it happens. Separation is not a failure of awareness. It’s a reflex. When something feels unsafe or uncertain, identity steps forward to protect itself. We compare, judge, position, and brace. This is how consciousness learns individuality. It’s natural. It’s human.
What’s less talked about is how quickly awareness can move the other way.
With the same speed that we drop into defence, we can soften. A pause. A breath. A moment of shared shock or tenderness. Suddenly, the edges blur. The “other” doesn’t feel quite so separate. We look up. We notice each other again. Awareness expands just enough to let something else in.
As awareness expands, we move into the You and I, verse.
The comma matters. This is the shift from opposition into a relationship. Separation still exists, but it is no longer adversarial. There is a “you” and an “I,” now in conversation. This is where much of life is lived. Compassion grows. Curiosity deepens. We become versed in dialogue, reflection, and learning through experience. The ego doesn’t disappear here. It becomes quieter, more subtle. Moments of unity may arise through nature, creativity, love, or presence, then fade again. That movement is not a failure. It’s integration.
Then there is the Universe.
This is unity consciousness itself. Not as a belief, but as a knowing. Here, there is no longer an “I” observing oneness. Oneness is the experience. Separation dissolves naturally. Identity softens completely. Life is no longer something happening to you, but something happening through you. This state is not permanent or performative. It is often brief, often quiet, and deeply real.
What moments like Bondi reveal is how fluid consciousness actually is.
In the presence of conflict or tragedy, we don’t leap neatly into higher awareness. Instead, we often move instinctively from fear into tenderness, from division into care. Strangers pause. A shared stillness appears. Not because anything has been resolved, but because something deeper recognises itself. Unity does not erase suffering. It shows up alongside it.
This is what I hold onto. Not blind optimism or spiritual answers to human pain, but a trust that beneath separation there is a shared field of awareness that continues to surface, even in the darkest moments. A trust that humanity, when shaken, often remembers itself. That we find each other again, not through certainty, but through presence.
Much of my work lives in these in-between spaces, supporting people as they navigate conflict, grief, transition, or the quiet sense that something deeper is unfolding. The work is not about reaching unity. It is about meeting experience as it is, without judgment. When we are witnessed in that way, awareness naturally expands.
For me, this is how the universe amazes us. Not by avoiding darkness, but by revealing connection within it. By reminding us that even when the world feels fractured, consciousness keeps moving, and somehow, again and again, we find our way back to one another.
Nate Micó is a best-selling author and consciousness practitioner offering grounded, intuitive support for people navigating change and inner awareness. He is a certified Pellowah Energy Healing and Umana Technique practitioner and offers sessions that empower people to facilitate change by reconnecting with their own power. Learn more at www.universeamazeme.com
Would you like to be taken on an adventure to find the crystal skulls? Purchase The Changey Sizey Lion Here
Discover the magic of walking with the angels and how it can enhance every aspect of your life. Purchase Walking with the Angels Here
Hot Chips is the latest exciting book series for kids, teaching them about sharing, recycling and more. Purchase Here









Add comment