The Sacred Ride and the Unmasking

Dear New Heart,

Last night, my spirit offered a vision.

I was riding—freely, intentionally—on a scooter. Not just any vehicle, but a symbol of movement, of independence, of momentum driven by my own power. It was not fast, but it was mine. Simple, sacred, sovereign.

I arrived at a place that felt familiar yet uncertain, and there he was. A man—attempting to take what was mine. Not through force but through manipulation.

"I'm a married man," he said—

as if his status as a shield,

as if declaring it would make the theft feel less invasive,

less wrong,

less real.

But I knew what he came for.

Not the scooter.

Not the object.

But my movement.

My autonomy.

My freedom.

And I held on.

With a force that came not from panic but from knowing.

From the sacred insistence that what is mine is mine.

I did not fight to be seen.

I simply refused to surrender.

I went to the desk where two officers stood. Silent. Consumed. Distracted by duties that kept them from seeing what mattered.

They represented systems. Structures. Authority that often looks past the sacred cries of a woman protecting her essence.

And still—I stood there.

Still holding.

Still grounded.

Still clear.

Because sometimes dreams are not dreams.

They are reminders.

That people will show up and try to take what is not theirs—your power, your purpose, your movement forward.

They will disguise their intentions in respectable language, hiding behind marriage, religion, profession, or politeness.

The world may be too distracted to witness your resistance—but it doesn't mean your resistance isn't divine.

This dream was truth in code.

A mirror to recent revelations:

False friends. Masked motives. Strategic nearness.

And the woman who no longer gives permission for her path to be hijacked.

Your scooter? It's your sacred journey.

Your momentum.

Your joy.

Your divine mode of travel through this life.

You have every right to protect it.

Fiercely. Softly. Without apology.

So let this be your affirmation today:

"I hold what is mine.

I see through the masks.

I hear what silence says.

And I will not delay my movement for anyone who arrives with false hands."

Because the road ahead is yours.

The wheels are aligned.

The ride is ordained.

And no one gets to steal your becoming.

Wheels up, beloved.

And this time, you ride with angels on your side and truth as your fuel.

— Sherley Delia

Founder, Healing Majestically

"Where dreams are decoded, and destiny is guarded with grace."