My 3rd and latest book so far was an amazing journey to write. With a very busy schedule I mostly dictated this book to my phone’s speech to text notes and late nights after work I would edit it. Below I share my last chapter with you.
Commencement Speech
As we reach the close of this book, know this: we are not concluding a journey, but pausing for breath along an eternal path.
The University of the Soul has no final graduation. There is no ceremony, no diploma, no neat ending that wraps your life in a tidy bow. The soul is not interested in achievements as much as it is in alignment. It doesn’t crave success as much as surrender. What matters most here is not that you mastered the lessons, but that you became more aware of the sacred curriculum always unfolding before you.
In these pages, we’ve walked together through grief, purpose, identity, love, forgiveness, and transformation. Not as abstract concepts, but as lived experiences—professors in disguise, showing up in the form of heartbreak, silence, divine encounters, and even the mundane. These moments have not been accidents. They were not punishments. They were invitations.
If there is one truth that threads through everything we’ve uncovered, it is this: life is not happening to you; life is happening for you—and, more mysteriously, through you.
We are all enrolled in a university that does not hand out report cards, but instead asks honest, soul-deep questions:
- Can you remain open, even when your heart is breaking?
- Will you choose presence over performance?
- Are you willing to see your pain not as a detour, but as part of your divine syllabus?
- Can you love who you’ve been, even when you didn’t yet know who you truly were?
You were never behind. You were never lost. You were simply becoming—even in your doubt, even in your delay, even when you forgot who you were.
The soul teaches in layers. What you understand now, you will understand again in a deeper way a year from now. And again in another season. Truth echoes. It revisits us until we are ready to embody it. There is no shame in learning slowly. The soul moves at the pace of grace.
So as you close this book, I offer no final answers. Instead, I offer an invitation: Continue. Continue to live reflectively. Continue to seek honestly. Continue to love deeply—even when it hurts, especially when it’s hard.
Return often to silence. Let wonder be your compass. Let pain be your professor. Let love be your thesis. And above all, never forget: you are both the student and the sacred text. Everything you need is already within you. The Universe is not outside of you, watching. It is inside you, unfolding.
You have been in class all along.
This is not a conclusion.
This is your commencement.
Class is still in session.
Your soul is still teaching.
And the next chapter—perhaps the most sacred one—is ready to be lived.

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