The Kingdom Within

Imagine stepping into a vast open-world game. The same sun rises for all, the same streets stretch out before every player, and the same laws of physics hold everything together. And yet no two journeys unfold alike. One soul races to the mountains, chasing the horizon. Another lingers in the alleys, listening for hidden stories. Some build empires, others wander in silence.

The world is one, but the path is many.

So it is with life. Earth is the classroom, life is the teacher — but the lessons are your personal, private, bespoke affair; no one else has your life’s journey on Earth. Each soul carries a particular salt, a unique flavour of being. You were not born to be pressed into a mould or flattened into uniformity. Salt is not meant to become sugar; sugar is not meant to become spice.

And yet, how often are we told: ‘Walk this way’? Believe as I believe. Conform to my path, or you will be lost. This is the great temptation of conversion — the pressure to make others play the game exactly as we do, to strip away the diversity that makes the banquet of existence rich.

The Kingdom Within is a corrective to this. It whispers to every soul:

• You do not need to convert anyone. You only need to know yourself.
• Your path is your own, bespoke and unrepeatable.
• The freedom you grant yourself must also be given to others.
• The Kingdom is not a prison of sameness; it is an infinite field of play, where love is the only law.

But what is this Kingdom? And where is it?

We have been taught to look outward. To measure worth by the state of the world around us. To polish the outside of the cup, hoping the inside will feel clean by reflection. We chase causes in external effects — money, status, approval, security — and wonder why our hands close on smoke.

Yet the truth has always been before us, whispered in scripture, sung in poetry, embedded in proverbs, echoed in Hermetic wisdom: As above, so below. As within, so without. On earth as it is in heaven. Different voices, yet one principle: the outer is a mirror of the inner. The effect always flows from the cause. Clean the inside of the cup, and the outside shines without effort.

Your Kingdom is not built — it is uncovered. Not constructed — but remembered. Within you already lives peace, meaning, strength, love — not as abstractions, but as seeds. A seed may not resemble the tree it will become, yet within its shell lies the whole design. So it is with your soul. To tend the seed within is to watch it unfold without.

Here is the first secret: you are a creation woven from the Omnipresent, the Omniscient, the Omnipotent. In you lies the potential for every outcome, every character, every way of being. Yet society has trained you to narrow yourself, to think and act within prescribed walls. You will always grow into the shape you permit: imprisoned by your own limitations, or liberated by your own freedoms.

⚠️ Warning: Be wary of anyone who says, “Follow me, I will show you the way.” Too often this comes not from love, but from those with a messiah complex — a need to control, to be shepherd while you are made sheep. To trade one master for another is no freedom at all.

If you are following someone else’s “truth,” you are dishonouring the truth within you. There is not one single path for all humanity, but for each soul, there is one path that is uniquely theirs. You will never discover it by imitation of others; you will only find it by looking within, by knowing yourself.

The Kingdom of Heaven is already inside you — it has always been there — you only need to remember.

The true model of worship is shown in Christ’s own words: “Go into your room, close the door, and pray to your unseen Creator. Then your Source, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you” (Matthew 6:6). To me, this is a reminder that your relationship with the Spirit within must be the most private and intimate bond you have. This is where you strip away not clothes but masks, where you bare your soul, your spirit, your real self. It is deeper than any human intimacy, for here you stand naked before the Source itself. By that standard, public displays of religion — crowds all “baring themselves” together — become a spectacle, not intimacy.

And while we are here, let us speak of “good deeds.” Isaiah 64:6 says that man’s righteousness is as filthy rags before God. My understanding of this is simple: when you use the toilet, you clean yourself afterwards. Do you expect a reward for this? Of course not. Good deeds are simply the cleaning of your soul’s conscience — necessary, but not a currency to purchase heaven.

If you help a homeless person, you have cleaned yourself. If you turn away, you walk in your own stench. Do not look for applause for good deeds, for these things are as basic as washing your hands. Instead, use your own mind, your own reasoning, and you will see: goodness is not a show for men, nor a bargaining chip with God. It is the natural hygiene of the soul. So just as you wipe your backside in private, do your good deeds in private, where no one can see you except the recipient of your service.

Still, the honest question remains: How does a person look inside? What if all they find there is pain?

The broken-hearted may dread the inward gaze because every corner seems flooded with sorrow. The one with low self-esteem may feel unworthy to even approach the inner door. Another, burdened with shame, may fear that looking within will only confirm their worst beliefs about themselves.

This is why the inner Kingdom must be entered with gentleness, not violence. To look within is not to force open a wound, but to sit beside it, patiently. It is not to deny the pain, but to let it speak. Pain, after all, is still a voice of the soul — and to hear it without judgment is already the beginning of healing.

So what, then, is the “how”?

Looking within begins with permission. Permission to be exactly where you are, not where you think you should be. Permission to listen without trying to fix. Permission to let silence surround you without rushing to fill it.

It can be as simple as sitting with your breath for a moment. Breathing in, noticing. Breathing out, noticing. You are not trying to solve yourself. You are not trying to reach enlightenment. You are simply being with yourself, like sitting with an old friend who has been ignored too long.

Accept yourself, just as you are.

Sometimes, looking within means watching the river of thoughts flow by without needing to dam it. Sometimes, it means noticing the small sparks of gratitude that flicker even in the dark. Sometimes, it means asking gently, “What is true for me right now?” and listening for the quiet answer that rises — not the loud voice of fear or conditioning, but the still whisper underneath.

To the broken-hearted: the Kingdom Within is not a palace you must storm, but a garden you can enter slowly. Begin with the smallest patch. If all you can find inside is pain, then sit with the pain and let it be seen. The act of seeing it without judgment is already tending the soil. Over time, other seeds will sprout beside it — resilience, compassion, even joy.

To the one who feels unworthy: the Kingdom Within is not earned by achievement or purity. It was placed in you at birth, before you had done anything right or wrong. Worthiness is not a prize to be won; it is your native ground. To look within is to rediscover that ground, to stand again on the earth of your own being.

To the one who fears what they will find: remember, nothing inside you is foreign to the human story. Others have carried shame, anger, sorrow, confusion — and through them all, the Kingdom has remained untouched. The darkness you fear is not the absence of light, but the place where the light has not yet been welcomed. Looking within does not create the shadows; it reveals them so they can dissolve.

And so the work of the Kingdom Within is not the work of conquest, but of cultivation. To sit quietly, to breathe honestly, to listen gently — these are the tools of entry. Over time, they till the inner soil. Over time, the outer life begins to reflect the inner shift.

As above, so below. As within, so without. The words are not metaphysics to be debated, but simple directions for living. If you want peace in your home, begin with peace in your heart. If you want clarity in your path, begin with clarity in your intentions. If you want love in your relationships, begin with love for the self that lives within you.

The Kingdom Within is not a philosophy to be argued or a religion to be joined. It is an invitation — to look, to listen, to tend. The more you do, the more you discover: the outside world was never separate. It is the echo of your inner song.

And here is the quiet wonder: when you clean the inside of the cup, the outside gleams without effort. When you heal the wound within, the world outside begins to look different. The same streets, the same sun, the same sky — yet you walk through them as a new player in the same game, carrying your salt, your flavour, your freedom.

The Kingdom is already yours. You need not earn it, you need only remember.

And when you do, you will see: heaven was never far away. It was waiting, quietly, in the chambers of your own heart.

 

Author: Pablo G. McKenzie & Magi