Why Power Needs Devotion, Not Performance

You can feel powerful while performing control instead of rootedness. You can appear composed while the field behind you contorts under unspoken pressure. You can speak with precision, project confidence, and even exude clarity—while subtly enacting patterns that erode trust, distort contact, and hollow your presence.

This is why power—real power—cannot be reduced to how you show up. Because posture without presence isn’t power. It’s performance. And performance is brittle.

The kind of power I call Feral Power—the wild, sacred current that animates a coherent field—doesn’t live in performance. It doesn’t need to be believed in. It doesn’t seek attention. It moves where there is integrity, contact, and availability. And it does not stay where there is distortion, agenda, or collapse masquerading as care.

If you want to move with that current—if you want to be changed by it, trusted by it, inhabited by it—then performance must fall away. Because Feral Power cannot be controlled. It can only be tended. And what tends it is devotion.

Devotion Is Not Submission

Devotion has been so warped by performance and hierarchy that many people no longer recognize it as a life practice. They associate it with subservience, or with acts of worship that center an external authority. But devotion is not submission. It is not about perfection, purity, or approval. It is about relational fidelity—your ongoing participation in the sacred relationship between yourself and the intelligences that animate life.

Feral Power is not something you own. It is not a trait you develop or a force you master. It is an intelligence that moves through you—when there is coherence, when there is clarity, when there is consent. And it does not arrive just because you want it. It arrives when you tend the conditions that allow it to move without distortion. That tending is what devotion is.

Devotion may express itself through reverence for a deity, fidelity to a specific current, recognition of the sacred ecology of a place, or radical truthfulness in your behavior. But at its heart, devotion means staying in right-relationship with the intelligence of Power itself—not just when it moves through you, but when it moves through another.

This is where devotion becomes real.

It’s one thing to feel devoted when the current flows through your own body. It’s another to let yourself be shaped by that current when it comes from someone else—when you are not the vessel, not the voice, not the one who knows. To stay open to that intelligence even when it unsettles you. Even when it cuts through your certainty, your preference, your self-image, or your carefully honed analysis.

This kind of devotion means you don’t just honor Power when it confirms you. You learn to recognize it when it arrives through unexpected sources. You allow it to impact you—without collapsing, without bypassing, without defending against what is true. This is no easy feat.

It requires discernment, agency, humility, exquisite boundaries, and a level of alignment that refuses both self-erasure and ego inflation. It demands that your personal conditioning not stand in the way of what is trying to move. It asks for a fierceness so deep that it outlasts your preferences. A devotion so clear that you do not mistake comfort for truth.

Because Feral Power belongs to the field. And when it speaks—through you or through another—the sacred response is not to claim it, contain it, or center yourself in its presence. The sacred response is to recognize it, stay in fidelity with it, and let it move what it came to move.

Relationship Must Be Tended

Feral Power does not arrive as a permanent state. It is not something you “get” and keep forever. It’s not a mood or a quality of self-expression. It is a dynamic relationship with the field—and like all relationships, it requires care.

You may feel the current move through you one day, only to lose contact the next. You might find yourself clear and strong in one conversation, then watch distortion creep in during another—especially when comfort, identity, or fear become the hidden motivators.

The question isn’t whether you can stay powerful all the time. The question is: What do you do when you notice the field shifting? How do you respond when distortion tries to reassert itself—through posture, collapse, urgency, or spiritualized control?

This is where practice begins.

It means noticing the subtle shifts before they override your clarity. It means tracking when you begin to posture instead of root, when you adapt your truth for someone else’s comfort, or when you use your clarity to collapse or control rather than to stay in connection.

Relationship is not about being perfect. It’s about staying in honest contact with what’s moving. And that kind of honesty is a form of devotion.

Feral Power Needs Devotion

Feral Power is wild, but not reckless. It is sacred, but not idealized. It has intelligence. It has momentum. And it has requirements.

You cannot summon it on command. You can only prepare to receive it. You can only learn to listen for it, to feel when it’s present, and to recognize when you are aligned enough to participate in its movement. Feral Power needs devotion.

And you can feed it.

Not with performance. Not with spiritual affect. Not with control. But with practice.

That feeding might look like showing up when you want to withdraw. It might mean letting your words slow down until they match the pulse of Deeper Intelligence. It might mean saying no when silence would be easier, or letting yourself be shaped by correction when it arrives through someone you didn’t expect.

It might mean tracking your orientation every morning—what you’re in service to before anything else. It might mean giving up the fantasy of being powerful so you can become trustworthy to Power itself.

This is not glamorous work. But it is sacred. And it is where the current begins to trust you back.

For Those Who Work With This Current

Feral Power is a living force that runs through everything I teach—not just in a single offering, but as one of the four foundational currents I work with. It shows up in how I teach about distortion, how I speak about clarity, how I work with spirit, and how I listen to the land. It is woven through every gate of initiation, every act of refusal, and every choice to stay in contact when it would be easier to perform.

If you’ve found this current moving in you—if something in your body recognizes what’s being named here—know that it is not a passing sensation. It is the presence of an intelligence inviting you into relationship. Into clarity. Into a way of moving that serves Life.

And relationship requires devotion.

Not to others. To the field.To the current.To the Life that moves through you when you stop performing and start participating.

This is the beginning of a life-long love affair with Primal Intelligence.

Ready to Go Deeper?

FERAL POWER II: Sacred Clarity, Unshakeable Boundaries is the next initiation in this living Feral Power Series.

This class isn’t about building walls. It’s about building discernment—and learning to hold your shape without performing control, collapsing into care, or sacrificing truth to stay safe.

We’ll explore:

• The anatomy of sacred refusal

• How to recognize power-play beneath surface harmony

• What boundaries look like when they're relational instead of reactive

• How to stop negotiating with distortion—even when it’s disguised as love

This is the work of holding clarity without aggression. Of protecting what’s sacred without armoring. Of becoming someone Power can trust.

You don’t need to have taken Feral Power I to join. But you do need a willingness to be responsible for the shape you hold, and the field you create.

→Learn more about the series