Spirituality is one of those questions that lingers. People ask me all the time what I believe in. It’s not a question I shy away from, but it’s not an easy one to answer either. I’ve lived too much, seen too much, and survived too much to tie my beliefs up in a neat little bow. I’ve spent my life rejecting labels, breaking out of boxes, and refusing to conform. So when someone asks me about my spirituality, I have to take a deep breath because it’s not a simple story. It never is.
I was eight years old when I was adopted into a Mormon family. I didn’t choose it. Nobody sat me down and asked me if I believed in God or if I wanted to follow the teachings of Joseph Smith. No, I was baptized without consent, forced into a way of life I didn’t understand, and told to accept it as truth. For ten years, I lived as a Mormon. I went to church, I sang the hymns, I followed the rules—because I had to. Not because I wanted to.
By the time I turned eighteen, I was done. I walked out of that church and never looked back. The truth is, when something is forced on you, when you’re told to believe or else, it doesn’t feel like faith. It feels like chains. And I’ve always been the kind of person who breaks chains.
That was the start of my journey—or maybe it was just the beginning of a new kind of questioning. I spent years looking for something that made sense. I explored Catholicism. I admired the rituals, the tradition, the idea of absolution, but it felt distant. I tried paganism and Wicca, drawn to their connection to nature and energy, but even then, it felt like I was being asked to play a role, to follow a script. And I don’t follow scripts. I write my own.
None of it resonated. It all felt like different versions of the same thing—another box to squeeze into. And if there’s one thing I know about myself, it’s that I don’t fit into boxes. I’m not built for that. So I let go of religion altogether. I stopped looking for answers in churches or rituals or books and started looking inward. That’s when everything changed.
What I found wasn’t a god. It wasn’t a religion or even a spiritual practice. It was energy. Not in the vague, new-agey sense, but in a way that’s raw, tangible, and real. Energy is everything. It’s the force that moves through us, around us, and within us. It’s the connection that binds every living thing to the universe. It’s infinite, boundless, and far beyond what we can truly understand.
I believe in universes—plural. Not just the one we live in, but infinite realities layered on top of each other like the pages of an endless book. This life, this existence, might just be one chapter in a story that stretches forever. Maybe we’re living in a simulation. Maybe this simulation is inside another one. I don’t know. What I do know is that time isn’t what we think it is. It’s not linear. It’s not forward or backward. It’s all happening at once—past, present, future—everything. Time is a construct, a label humanity slapped on something we don’t fully understand.
Do I believe in a higher power? Yes. But not in the way most people mean it. I don’t see a god sitting on a throne, judging our every move. What I believe in is a creative force—something ancient, arcane, and eternal. It’s not a deity. It’s not a man or a woman. It’s not something you pray to. It’s energy. Pure and limitless.
This isn’t just a theory to me. It’s how I live my life. It’s the foundation of everything I’ve come to understand about myself, about others, and about the world. It’s what I wrote about in Kinesis, my sixth book, where I explore energy on a deeper level. Energy is more than a concept. It’s a reality. It shapes us. It connects us. It’s the thread that weaves through every moment, every relationship, and every experience.
When I say I don’t believe in religion, I mean it. I don’t pray to gods or saints. I don’t worship the moon or the stars. I don’t perform rituals or cast spells. But I believe in magic. I believe in the kind of magic that lives in energy, in connection, in creation. I believe we’re part of something bigger, something infinite and unknowable. And I believe that this force, this energy, is both within us and all around us.
I can’t tell you what to believe. I wouldn’t want to. All I can do is share my truth. And my truth is this: we are infinite beings living in an infinite reality. We are energy, and that energy is eternal. That’s what keeps me grounded. That’s what keeps me searching. That’s what keeps me alive.
So when people ask me about my beliefs, I don’t give them a label. I don’t give them a doctrine or a set of rules. I tell them the truth as I see it: that we’re all connected, that time is an illusion, and that energy is the essence of everything. It’s not about being right. It’s about being real. And this? This is as real as it gets.