The More Enlightened I Become, The Less Bullshit I Tolerate.

Esther Bridgman Clark was born in 1900 and became one of the first female physicians in California. She was the only pediatrician on the mid–San Francisco peninsula in 1927 and later became an early partner in the Palo Alto Medical Clinic in the 1930s.

As a woman in the early 1900s, this was no small feat. It required an iron will, solid focus, the ability to drown out the naysayers from the get-go, and, more than anything, the kind of self-belief that refused to abandon itself, even when the world told her she should.

And believe you me, this woman was a force to be reckoned with. She brooked no fools, and when it came to professionalism, if you didn’t bring it in spades, you would see her door shutting in your face faster than you could blink.

Esther Clark was my great-aunt.

I often think of her when I find myself shutting down yet another sloppy email, a generic pitch, or an attempt at connection that is skin-deep, with an exasperated sigh.

The gurus would have you believe that “enlightened” looks peaceful, accepting, calm, and smiling. That you have transcended all emotions and now radiate love and serenity.

So what does it mean when your knee-jerk response to something is an impatient, irritated eye-roll? Does it mean you are slowly becoming the grouchy, old biddy whose every sentence starts with, “In my day…” or “Kids these days…”?

Or perhaps, this is what enlightenment truly looks like.

You’re not “getting cranky.” You’re getting clear.

You’re not being “judgy.” You’re refining your field.

And no, it’s not a sign you’re falling off your spiritual path.

It’s the clearest proof that you’re right on track.

What If Clarity Isn’t Cruelty — But Enlightenment?

I recently had an agent pitch her client to “be on my show.”

If she had taken even two seconds to scan my website, she’d have seen — I don’t have a show. These emails are easy to spot a mile away. They always start with the same canned line: “I hope you are well…”

For me, that’s an instant delete. No further reading necessary.

But it wasn’t the outreach that irritated me.

It was the unwillingness to take five seconds to actually see me.

When you’ve built something sacred — your work, your presence, your time — and someone shows up without doing the bare minimum to understand that?

It’s not cute. It’s not humble.

It’s disrespect, dressed up as connection.

And that irritation you feel — the eye-roll, the sigh, the full-body “ugh” — it’s not new.

It’s just clearer now. Sharper. Faster. More precise.

And it’s never just one person.

It is everywhere lately.

The pitchy tone in a DM. The canned lines in emails.

The “Hi dear” messages that feel like they were written by a bot with a soul patch.

But here’s the part I didn’t expect:

I don’t pause anymore. No part of me “gives it a chance.”

I just know. And, boom, the internal shutdown is knee-jerk immediate.

So immediate that it sometimes leaves me thinking, “Wait…what just happened?”

I don’t crave perfection. I crave presence.

And when someone shows up scattered, fuzzy, or performative, that energy hits like a slap in the face. It lands in the body like a virus. Like a wrong note sung in a screechy pitch.

This is what clarity feels like now.

No drama. No need to explain.

Just a clean closing of the door… and a return to alignment.

That frequency where your body breathes deeper, your boundaries feel whole, and nothing buzzes but what belongs.

Discernment Isn’t Judgment. It’s Precision.

I used to think that saying “no” made me harsh or uptight.

I’ve come to realize: saying “yes” to anything that dilutes you, even when it’s dressed up as kindness or ‘you’ve earned it’, that’s the real violence.

That’s the truest disservice you can do to yourself.

Warren Buffett said it best: “The difference between successful people and really successful people is, really successful people say no to almost everything.”

This isn’t about being unavailable.

It’s about refusing to hand your bandwidth to people who haven’t earned the right to be in your field.

Including the version of yourself who keeps lowering your own bar.

Including the version of you who still thinks every voice deserves a seat at the table.

Because when your field gets clean, you feel everything.

And the more sovereign you become, the more jarring it is when someone tries to enter without knocking.

This isn’t about inbox etiquette.

It’s about energy hygiene.

It’s what happens when discernment stops apologizing.

And clarity becomes your default setting.

The Me-taphysical Truth Bomb

So, here’s the bottom line:

The more at peace you are, the more allergic you become to bullshit.

Peace isn’t tolerance of noise. It’s the absence of noise. So when something enters your field that clangs instead of resonates, your whole being notices. Not because you’re reactive… but because you’re refined.

You’re not becoming less spiritual. You’re becoming unedited.

And what the gurus call “acceptance” is often just a spiritual bypass with a smile. A way to look holy while letting standards rot.

You, on the other hand, are building a cathedral of clarity, so of course you’re going to feel the flicker of every flicked rubber band that someone calls “connection.” That’s not a flaw. That’s your discernment functioning at god-level.

The irony?

They may preach peace like it’s passivity.

But you’re discovering peace as precision.

As power.

As a borderless, bullshitless YES to yourself.

You’re not rejecting people.

You’re rejecting noise in the name of signal.

You’re not failing to become enlightened.

You’re becoming undeniably, unapologetically you.

So yeah. Rebel on.

Your path isn’t about becoming calm in the face of collapse.

It’s about becoming so real that collapse doesn’t even knock anymore.

#bebold

💋Kristen