Nine in the Palm of My Hand
I received the message from my Ancestors via Beverly on October 23 while I was listening in the Ancient Healing room on Clubhouse. Beverly played music over me, she began speaking, and the moment she mentioned the coffee beans forming an X, my spirit reacted before my mind caught up. I felt the pull settle into my body, quiet and unmistakable. I knew the message was for me. I didn’t question it. I let the vibration of the message sink into my chest the way ancestral truth always does.
A few days later, I feel myself drawn to buy whole coffee beans. I walk into the coffee aisle and I’m surprised to see how limited the whole-bean options are. I stand there and review each one carefully, letting myself feel into the energy of every bag. After looking at everything on the shelf, I land right back where I began, standing in front of the Sumatra Mandheling. The pull is clear. The description on the package feels like a reflection of my own frequency. Deep. Robust. Smoky. Earthy. Chocolate. Spicy. I open the bag as soon as I get in my car and place a single whole bean in the small tray on the lower-left side. My body moves with a quiet certainty, like the bean already knows why it’s there.
Coffee always hits me in a specific way. The aroma grounds me instantly. It pulls my energy back into my body and settles my stomach when I wake up nauseous, which has been happening to me a lot in the mornings. The scent balances something inside me, almost like it neutralizes the heaviness before I even take a sip. I’ve always noticed this, and in this moment it feels different. It feels intentional. It feels like part of the reason my Ancestors chose coffee as the material for this message. The aroma becomes a stabilizer, a way for me to feel present enough to hear what they’re saying.
The X symbol carries layers of meaning for me. When they mentioned the coffee beans forming an X, I felt my Ancestors press in close. The X is a boundary, a warning, a marker of where energy stops and where I begin. It’s a line that says, not here, not this, not anymore. It’s also a crossroads, a place where my choices shift the future. The X holds the tension between two paths, two truths, two timelines, and it asks me to choose with clarity instead of fear. It marks the spot where spirit work becomes visible in the physical, where my intentions crack open and reveal their cores.
And the X is the point where the living and the ancestral meet, where communication becomes clearer than usual. It’s a symbol I’ve felt my whole life without always naming it, the quiet and sacred geometry of my intuition. When the X appears, I know I’m standing at an energetic intersection. I am a bridge between the realms, and in moments like this, the veil feels like a breath of fresh air.
When the message comes through, I feel it in my solar plexus and sacral first. It rises like a warm pressure, a tightening and releasing that tells me to pay attention. The signal doesn’t ask. It moves through me with a certainty that bypasses thought. The X becomes a notification from my lineage, letting me know something in my path is opening and they want me present to walk through it.
I sit with the bag of coffee, reflecting on the energy and the messages from my Ancestors, and then suddenly I find myself placing coffee beans into a small cloth bag. I didn’t plan this. My hands are already moving. I count twenty-seven beans three times, trusting the number because it already lives in my life. Twenty-seven carries a significant weight for me. It reduces to nine, and nine feels like home. Nine is closure, completion, spiritual intelligence, and the quiet authority that comes from living through cycles and returning wiser each time.
Nine holds my birthday energy. Nine holds my personal rhythm. Working in sets of twenty-seven means I’m working in the frequency of nine three times over. That’s the 3-6-9 current. Three opens the channel. Six stabilizes it. Nine completes the circuit and seals it. Twenty-seven times three becomes eighty-one, the reverse is eighteen (a powerful number in my life), and eighteen reduces back to nine. The energy loops into itself, forming a portal of a full cycle with no leakage. This matches the way my intuition works: spiraling, precise, returning to truth with each layer.
When the beans settle at the bottom of the canvas bag, I feel the energy shift. I tie three knots to close it, each knot tightening the intention and sealing the work. The scent hits me hard, stronger than I expect, and my body tells me the energy needs more containment. I follow the pull, sliding the bag into a second one and tying three more knots. The urge comes again, so I add a third layer and tie three final knots. With each knot, the energy becomes sharper, heavier, clearer. The layers lock together like a coded sequence. I trust the movement and let my intuition lead.
Once the last knot tightens, the room shifts again. The air feels charged, almost humming, like something has settled into position around me. I reach for my music without thinking and press play on my current favorite ritual song, I Lied to You by Miles Caton. The song fills the space and wraps itself around the ritual like it belongs there. I feel the vibration of the music move through my body and into the bag, forming a bridge between me and my Ancestors. It softens and sharpens something in me at the same time.
As the song plays, I feel layers of emotion rise and fall. Honesty. Vulnerability. Grief. Anger. Rage. Confession. Truth I speak to myself in private. Truth my Ancestors already know. The music creates a moment where everything aligns: the beans, the knots, the numbers, the scent, the message, the presence. The ritual isn’t something I’m doing. It’s something happening with me. I feel my Ancestors settle in close, quiet and steady, as if they’re saying, We’re here. Keep trusting what you feel.
As I hold the bag, I understand my rituals come from memory I’ve carried across lifetimes. This bag is proof of that. It is protection. It is connection. It is divination. It is identity. This bag mirrors how my power works: layered, instinctive, subtle, grounded and deeply tied to those who came before me.
Sitting with the bag now, I feel how much this moment teaches me. I follow what moves through me, and the ritual reveals itself piece by piece. This ritual in motion shows me how naturally my intuition takes the lead when I let myself trust it. It shows me how quickly the Ancestors respond when I listen without hesitation. It reminds me that I don’t need elaborate steps or formal tools for my power to rise. My body knows. My spirit knows. My lineage knows.
This ritual shows me how much I’ve grown into myself. I used to question whether my instincts were enough. I used to think I needed validation from the outside to believe what I was feeling. This moment proves the opposite. I know what I’m doing because I feel what I’m doing. My energy remembers. My Ancestors speak through the simplest things. A bag of coffee. A single bean in my car. The scent that pulls me deeper. The number that repeats itself like a reminder. The music that opens the room.
This bag is alive with intention and connection, and it reflects a version of me I’m ready to honor. I create something that protects me, guides me, grounds me, and mirrors the way I walk through my path. This ritual continues to move with me. It continues to teach me. I continue to trust the language of my own energy as I become a new version of me.
Gratitude to the Beverly, Gratitude to AshFam, Gratitude to my Ancestors. Thank you, Spirit. Àṣẹ.