Next time, under think it.
Turn your busy brain off and rest. Ease into the light of truth that already warms your Core Star. Smile back at your bones and blood, for they still beam and pulse and shift to the rhythm of rightness. Their instincts are sharp. They pick up the scent of destiny like a wolf finds the scent of its quietly feeding prey.
Go under the surface of your ego, of its thought and fear and plan-making and proclamations, its pomp and circumstance. Remember that you are a walker of the dream paths. You are mystical. You are etheric. You are an animal piercing through trappings of the false-self.