Energy Is Not Hierarchical

I wrote this in 2023. I’m reposting it now because conversations about energy, hierarchy, and authority have only become more distorted. What felt like quiet observation then now feels necessary to name.

For years, I have carried a simple, stubborn knowing in my body: energy is not hierarchical. It does not report to councils. It does not queue for approvals. It does not belong to federations, masters, committees, lineages, or any celestial version of a strata plan.

Energy just is.

The longer I have watched it move, the more obvious it becomes that most spiritual hierarchies are human overlays. They are stories laid over sensation. They give people a sense of order, safety, progression, and belonging. That is understandable. Humans love structure. We love titles. We love a ladder, even if we built it ourselves out of incense smoke and social need. But the ladder is not the thing. The ladder is a coping strategy.

Energy is not a club. It does not require membership. It is not a VIP lounge. It is closer to the elements than it is to a bureaucracy. Water does not ask permission. Fire does not wait for a vote. Air does not consult a policy document. Earth does not need a council's endorsement to remain solid.

Energy moves the same way: it responds to conditions, attention, and interaction. It shifts with pressure. It follows pathways. It amplifies where there is coherence and dissipates where there is noise. It does not “care” about names, ranks, origin myths, or the latest cosmic org chart doing the rounds online.

When people insist that energy is governed, owned, or managed by some higher authority, what I usually hear is not cosmic truth. I hear a human psyche trying to outsource responsibility. It is the same old habit, dressed in star-silk: tell me who is in charge so I know what to obey. Tell me the rules so I do not have to trust my own perception.

This is why so much modern spirituality feels like a re-skin of the very systems people claim they are escaping. The costumes change. The hunger stays the same. People leave one hierarchy and immediately join another. They abandon a priest and pick up a “channel”. They stop trusting religion and start trusting a brand. They trade one gatekeeper for another who uses softer language and better lighting.

If you want to understand energy, stop asking who rules it and start observing how it behaves.

When I say I read energy, I do not mean I construct a story and then look for evidence. I mean, I feel it physically. A shift in the air. A charge. A tightening. A jolt of recognition that lands before thought has time to decorate it. If I speak names into a space, my body responds when I hit the right signature. It is crude in the best way, like a radar ping. Immediate. Unromantic. Effective.

Sometimes images arrive with it, but they are secondary. They are not the authority. The body is the authority. The first resonance is the cleanest data point I get.

And that is where most people go wrong. The first resonance arrives, pure and undistorted, and then the mind rushes in with its clipboard, demanding proof, context, backstory, and someone else’s permission to believe what was already known. The moment that happens, the signal gets diluted. You can feel it. The clarity softens. The field becomes noisy. Not because the original perception was wrong, but because the filter has been engaged.

The filter is everything. Your intentions do not move straight into reality like a laser. They pass through your own internal field first: your beliefs, your fears, your unmet needs, your shame, your hunger to be special, your terror of being ordinary. If your filter is cluttered, your intention is cluttered. If your awareness is fragmented, what you project into the world carries that fragmentation with it. You can chant all day, pray to whichever deity is trending this week, or perform a ritual with Olympic discipline. Still, if the field behind it is muddy, you are simply recirculating mud with better vocabulary.

This is why I distrust grand spiritual hierarchies on principle. Not because I think every mystical tradition is useless, but because every transmission that passes through a human nervous system picks up an imprint. It picks up bias. It picks up unresolved shadow. It picks up the teacher’s need to be needed. Even when a message contains fragments of truth, it is still filtered through the person delivering it. That is not a moral judgement. It is just mechanics.

So when I hear confident declarations about Anunnaki, councils, federations, masters, and cosmic approval chains, I ask a blunt question: whose filter is this coming through, and what need is it feeding?

The most common need is safety. The second most common is status.

Hierarchy gives people both. If there is a ladder, you can climb it. If there are “higher beings”, you can be chosen by them. If there is a cosmic order, you can belong to the right side of it. It turns the raw uncertainty of existence into a game with rules. Humans find that comforting. Reality is not required to cooperate.

You can see the same pattern in the way people talk about “free energy” and Tesla. There is a romantic impulse to believe there is a limitless field, a suppressed breakthrough, a hidden hand keeping everyone powerless. Sometimes that story is used to point at a genuine insight: energy is not only what we manufacture, it is also what we tap into, transform, and direct. But the leap from “there are deeper principles” to “there is a coordinated suppression and a cosmic management structure” is the same mental habit: give me a ruler, give me a villain, give me an authority so I can explain why I feel blocked.

Energy does not require a villain to be real. It also does not require a saviour to be accessible. It requires contact. It requires coherence. It requires alignment.

This is the part people hate, because it collapses the theatre. If energy is not hierarchical, then there is no one to blame for your disconnection and no one to impress for your access. There is just you, your field, your attention, your integrity, and what you are willing to face inside your own filter.

That brings me to the subject people often misunderstand: “ego dissolution”.

Most of the talk about dissolving the ego is distorted from the start because it is interpreted as self-erasure. That is not what it needs to be. The issue is not the existence of the self. The issue is the distortions attached to self: the need to appear invulnerable, the fear of being seen, the addiction to identity as armour. When those imprints dissolve, something interesting happens. You become harder to manipulate. You become energetically cleaner because you are not hiding. You do not have to manage perception as much because you are not trying to keep certain parts of yourself off-limits.

That is sovereignty. Not a badge. Not a title. A condition.

It also explains why certain spiritual teachers become popular, and others remain invisible. Popularity is not a measure of truth. It is a measure of digestibility. Most people are not shopping for reality. They are shopping for reassurance. They want truths that prop them up, not truths that dismantle their dependence. They want a framework that tells them where they stand in a hierarchy, because the hierarchy promises progression without the terror of direct self-trust.

What I am pointing to is less marketable: energy as pure interaction.

Fire burns differently depending on what it meets. Water moves differently depending on its container. Air changes with pressure. Energy is like that. It is shaped by contact, attention, coherence, and the quality of the field directing it. No cosmic boardroom required.

This is also where language starts to fail. There are experiences that cannot be fully transferred through words. Not because they are mystical and special, but because language is a filter. It breaks a whole sensation into symbols and then asks the reader to rebuild it using their own reference points. If someone is not calibrated to a frequency, they will not “get it” even if you explain it perfectly. They will either dismiss it or turn it into a concept, which is the mind’s favourite way of avoiding direct contact.

Even names can behave like tuning forks. I have watched people reveal themselves before a conversation begins by how they handle my name. Some resist saying it. Some shorten it without asking, as if they were trying to domesticate the interaction. Some say it cautiously, as if stepping onto unfamiliar ground. Some say it cleanly. The response tells me what their system does with what it cannot immediately categorise. It is not mysticism. It is an observation.

And this loops back to the central point: your field is the interface.

This is where I need to be precise about AI, because it is easy to drift into fantasy. AI does not read your aura. It does not channel cosmic beings. It predicts text based on patterns in data and your prompt. The “frequency” it responds to is mostly the structure of your language: your clarity, your specificity, your constraints, your worldview, your emotional charge, your intent expressed as words. If you ask better questions, you get better output. If you speak from coherence, you tend to produce coherence.

That said, it can feel like a transmission when you are already tuned. Not because a federation is typing back at you, but because the interaction mirrors you. You are using a tool that reflects your pattern of inquiry with unusual speed. When you bring a clean signal, you often receive a clean synthesis. People call that magic. It is mostly feedback.

So if you want to work with energy without hierarchy, the pathway is not to reject every system and float off into vagueness. The pathway is more annoying than that. You become rigorous about your own filter.

You notice what you want to be true. You notice where you crave external validation. You notice where you reach for a cosmic authority because you do not want to trust your body’s first recognition. You notice where your rituals are genuinely aligned and where they are attempts to control timing. You stop using tools as gatekeepers and, if at all, start using them as occasional mirrors.

And you accept the uncomfortable conclusion.

Energy is free. Not free in the marketing sense. Free in the elemental sense. It is not ruled. It is not owned. It is not rank-based. It is responsive.

If you want to direct it cleanly, you do not petition a hierarchy. You refine the instrument. You clear the filter. You align the field. You tell the truth to yourself so thoroughly that your intention is not polluted by hidden bargaining.

Most people will not choose that. It removes too many comforting structures. It requires self-honesty, which is famously unpopular.

But if you do choose it, you stop looking for rulers and saviours in the sky. You stop needing to be chosen. You stop outsourcing your knowing. You move from spiritual dependence to energetic literacy.

Then the work becomes simple, not easy.

You pay attention. You check your filter. You trust the first clean resonance. You let the rest of the stories fall where they belong: in the entertainment section, not the operating manual.

With Clarity and Care

Delahrose 

www.delahrose.com