Words Become a Way Through

(On the limitations of language, and the infinite truth beneath it)

I’ve been thinking a lot about language lately. About how the words we’re raised with shape the way we understand ourselves, others, and the Divine.

I grew up speaking English. It’s the language that shaped how I was taught to describe life, God, and even love. And yet… the more I study, listen, and remember, the more I notice just how much English leaves out.

I am in no way a language expert, but I read. I listen. I observe. I believe myself to be a student of the Truth—and I welcome that Truth to reach me however God, Source-Creator, desires it to. Sometimes it comes in words I’ve never heard before. Sometimes it comes through breath.

What I’ve come to see is this: many other languages have words that point to things we deeply feel but have never been given language for. Words for life force. For oneness. For the Self that is not separate from God. For the process of awakening—from illusion to recognition to embodiment.

Take the word love, for example. It’s one of the most overused and under-defined words in the English language. We use it for pizza and partners, for God and good coffee.

But other languages have always known that not all love is the same.

The Greeks had eros for romantic passion, philia for friendship, storge for familial love, and agape for divine, unconditional love. Each word points to a specific frequency, a different way of being in relationship. They knew that love needed distinctions—not because it was less sacred, but because it was more.

In Hawaiian, aloha doesn’t just mean “hello” or “goodbye.” It literally means “I share my breath with you.” It’s a way of recognizing life force in another. A sacred act of relating.

There are dozens of other examples across the world. Dozens of ways different cultures have tried to name the unnamable. And when you look through that lens, you start to see how language isn’t just descriptive—it’s creative. It forms the edges of what we allow ourselves to believe is real.

One word I return to again and again is the Sanskrit mantra soham (pronounced so-hum). It means I am That. Or more fully, I am That I AM.

But what’s beautiful about this word is that it’s not something you say. It’s something you breathe.

So on the inhale.

Ham on the exhale.

It’s believed that even newborns breathe this mantra unconsciously. That every living thing is already speaking it, even without knowing. Soham is not about becoming anything. It’s the breath’s way of remembering what’s already true.

I don’t share this as some esoteric philosophy. I share it because I believe there’s a deeper truth behind it: You are not separate from Source. You don’t need to achieve your way back to the Divine. You are, and have always been, That.

And when I breathe with that awareness—when I whisper soham within the rhythm of my breath—it’s like the words open a doorway into something ancient and instinctively known.

There’s a difference between the thinking mind and what I call the Divine Mind, or Divine Intelligence.

Divine Intelligence isn’t logic. It’s not something you analyze. It is the intelligence that precedes thought—the quiet, guiding rhythm that moves through all of life.

It’s how your heart knows how to beat.

The lungs remember to breathe while you sleep.

A child instinctively turns toward its mother.

A plant stretches toward the sun.

And how animals migrate, give birth, protect, and know—without instruction.

We call it instinct, but have you ever stopped to ask: Where does that instinct come from?

What is it that lives in your cells, your blood, your breath… and knows?

This is Divine Intelligence.

It’s the same field of wisdom that turns seeds into forests, that orchestrates tides and seasons, that keeps galaxies spinning and hearts pulsing.

And it lives in you.

It’s not far away, not "out there." It’s not something you have to earn access to. It is already guiding you, animating you, and available to you in every moment.

And when you stop fighting your own knowing—when you soften and trust what moves beneath the noise—you return to it.

When you really stop and study the way a culture speaks, you begin to see what it believes.

Many indigenous and ancestral languages don’t even have a concept of being a separate “individual” the way we do in the West. Their words for self are often intertwined with the words for Earth, family, and Source.

In Zulu, there’s Ubuntu—“I am because we are.”

There are worldviews encoded into language, entire ways of seeing the self, the world, and the sacred.

English, by contrast, was shaped through centuries of colonization, hierarchy, and the illusion of dominance. It’s a language that often prioritizes separation and ownership. That doesn’t mean it’s wrong—it just means it’s incomplete. And unless we intentionally infuse it with truth, it can’t hold the full weight of who and what we are.

If you’ve ever struggled to explain a spiritual experience in English… if you’ve ever felt like “God” or “self” or even “love” don’t fully capture what you know to be real, you’re not alone.

We are in a time of remembering.

Whether you use the word I AM, or soham, or you sit in silence and breathe—what matters is the recognition. The return. The lived knowing.

We are not separate from God. We are not broken, waiting to be fixed. We are divine, and we are in the process of waking up to it.

Practice:

If you’ve never consciously worked with the word soham, I invite you to try it now.

Sit quietly.

Place your hand on your chest or your belly.

Take a slow inhale and silently think so.

Exhale and think ham.

Just notice what happens and what shifts.

You don’t need to force anything. You’re not invoking a power outside of yourself.

You’re simply remembering—with the breath, with the body—that you already are That (Divine).

Here is a small collection of words and phrases—each one offering a glimpse into how the soul has always spoken through language. You don’t need to memorize them. Just feel into what resonates. Some of these may speak directly to something your soul already knows.

Word (Phrase)	Language (Tradition)	Meaning (Essence)
Soham	Sanskrit	"I am That I AM" – unity through breath
Prana	Sanskrit	Vital life force energy
Atman	Sanskrit	Individual Self or soul
Jiva	Sanskrit	Individual soul in embodied form
Tat Tvam Asi	Sanskrit	“Thou art That” – the Self is the Divine
Ekam Sat	Sanskrit	“Truth is One” the wise call it by many names. (part of a longer verse).
Namaste	Sanskrit	The Divine in me honors the Divine in you. (I bow to you. OR I honor you).
Brahman	Sanskrit	Infinite, unchanging Source of all that is. The source of all existence.
Metta	Pali/Buddhist	Loving-kindness toward all beings
Aloha	Hawaiian	Breath, love, and unity – sharing sacred life
Ubuntu	Zulu	I am because we are
Tao (Dao)	Chinese	The Way – the principle behind all existence
Qi / Chi	Chinese	Life energy that flows through all living things
Ahava	Hebrew	Deep, intentional love rooted in giving
Ruach	Hebrew	Spirit, breath, wind of God
Nefesh	Hebrew	Living soul or animated being. A person's life, breath, or living essence.
Dabar	Hebrew	Creative Word that brings forth life
Ein Sof	Hebrew/Kabbalah	The Infinite, limitless Source beyond form
Baraka	Arabic	Divine blessing, presence, or grace
Philia	Greek	Affection between friends or equals
Storge	Greek	Family love; care between parent and child
Eros	Greek	Passionate, erotic love
Agape	Greek	Pure, divine love without condition
Karuna	Sanskrit/Pali	Compassion, mercy, tender-heartedness

Words shape us. They either limit us or liberate us. They can hold us in illusion, or they can open us to the Divine.

We are meant to know ourselves as divine, and meant to speak from that place.

And meant to breathe it, write it, live it, and say it with every part of who we are.

Let your breath say what your mind may still be learning: I am That. I AM.