The Power of Intention

How choosing life opened me to new ways of healing
By Shani Gubler
Intention did not change my life by making everything easy. It changed my life by changing the direction in which I was willing to move.
For a long time, pain shaped the boundaries of my world. Migraines could take over entire days. At my worst, I experienced as many as fifteen migraine days in a month. I knew the dark room, the cancelled plans, the waiting, and the fear of the next episode. Pain was not only something happening inside my body; it began influencing what I believed was possible for my life.
There were moments when it would have been easy to close the door, withdraw from life, and accept defeat as my identity. But somewhere within me, another voice remained. It did not shout. It whispered: There must be another way. Keep moving. Keep listening. Do not abandon yourself.
Intention Is More Than a Wish
I have come to understand that intention is not simply wanting something to happen. It is the conscious direction of our energy, attention, and actions. A goal asks, What do I want to achieve? Intention asks, Who am I choosing to become as I walk toward it?
My intention was not to pretend that pain did not exist. It was to stop allowing pain to decide the meaning of my life. I began choosing participation over withdrawal, curiosity over certainty, and personal responsibility over the familiar comfort of victimhood. This did not mean blaming myself for being unwell. It meant recognizing that even when I could not control every circumstance, I still had a relationship with my circumstances—and that relationship could change.
Intention became the doorway between the life I was enduring and the life I was willing to create.
From Resistance to Curiosity
Years ago, when my husband suggested trying a medicine from the jungle, my immediate response was, ‘Are you crazy?’ The idea challenged everything I believed about healing, safety, and what was acceptable. I had many misconceptions, and I held tightly to what I thought I knew.
Yet life has a way of returning us to the doors we once refused to open.
As I continued searching, studying, and listening to my body, I became willing to explore healing through a wider lens. Yoga, meditation, breathwork, Reiki, sound, restorative practices, Ayurveda, Qigong, movement, shamanic journeying, and energy work each offered a different language. Some spoke to the body, some to the nervous system, some to emotion, and some to the soul. None required me to reject appropriate medical care. They invited me to become an active participant in my own well-being and to meet myself as a whole person rather than as a collection of symptoms.
The woman who once said, ‘Are you crazy?’ eventually became the woman willing to receive training so that, with proper preparation, responsibility, and respect, she could support others through a modality she had once feared. That transformation did not happen because someone convinced me. It happened because experience softened my certainty and intention made me brave enough to keep learning.
The Whisper of Another Frequency
Along the way, I began sensing what I describe as an open channel—a fifth-dimensional frequency that did not speak through logic alone. It arrived as a quiet calling, a persistent inner knowing, and an invitation to trust a different way of healing.
This frequency did not ask me to deny reality. It asked me to question the reality I had unconsciously built from fear, conditioning, limitation, and old pain. It asked me to notice how many beliefs I had accepted as truth: that suffering made me powerless, that healing had to look only one way, that joy needed to wait until everything was fixed, and that surrender meant giving up.
I began to understand surrender differently. Surrender is not defeat. It is the release of the exhausting need to control every detail of the path. Trust is not certainty. It is the willingness to take the next honest step before the whole road is visible.
This inner listening eventually became part of the Blue Light Energy Codes I now carry and share: a frequency of remembrance, compassion, truth, sovereignty, and alignment. To me, the Blue Light does not force or fix. It gently reveals. It reminds us of what remains whole beneath the fear, the armour, and the identities we have outgrown.
Changing My Relationship With Pain
One of my deepest shifts was understanding that healing is not only about making pain disappear. It is also about changing the way we meet pain when it arrives.
I stopped asking only, How do I get rid of this? I began asking, What is my body communicating? What needs support? What belief is tightening around this experience? Where am I being invited to rest, adjust, grieve, speak, receive, or choose differently?
Today, my migraines have decreased from as many as fifteen migraine days a month to around four per month. I honour this improvement without turning it into a universal promise or attributing it to one single practice. My path has included many forms of support, observation, treatment, lifestyle changes, inner work, and spiritual practice. Healing has not been one miraculous moment. It has been a relationship built through thousands of choices.
The greatest change is not only in the number of migraines. It is that I no longer automatically disappear into a dark room emotionally, even when my body needs darkness and rest physically. I no longer interpret every painful day as evidence that life has defeated me. Rest can be an act of wisdom without becoming a surrender of my identity.
Letting the False Reality Fall Away
Much of what I once called reality was actually a collection of unquestioned beliefs: beliefs about what I could handle, what healing should look like, what other people would think, and who I was allowed to become.
As those beliefs began to loosen, I saw how often victimhood can disguise itself as protection. It can say, Nothing will change, so do not risk hoping. It can make the familiar feel safer than the possible. Releasing victimhood did not mean denying what happened to me or pretending that every circumstance was my choice. It meant refusing to hand every future choice to the past.
Some misconceptions left gently. Others had to be grieved. Each one created more space for a truer life—one guided less by fear and more by discernment, presence, and inner authority.
Healing Must Make Room for Joy
At one point, healing itself can become another full-time struggle. We can become so focused on what needs to be repaired that we forget to live. I have learned that joy is not a reward we receive after healing is complete. Joy is part of the healing.
Life asks to be celebrated while it is still imperfect. Celebration may be movement, music, a meal shared with family, sunlight on the skin, time with my dogs, teaching a class, holding a healing circle, laughing, creating, dancing, or allowing myself to receive love without immediately searching for what might go wrong.
The more I tap into joy, the more I remember that I am not here merely to manage symptoms. I am here to participate in life. Gratitude does not erase pain, but it prevents pain from becoming the only truth in the room.
Intention Requires Action and Surrender
Intention became powerful when it moved beyond thought. I studied. I practised. I asked questions. I changed habits. I rested. I taught. I received support. I explored unfamiliar modalities with increasing discernment. I listened when my body said no, and I learned to listen when my soul said yes.
Aligned action gave my intention roots. Surrender gave it wings.
I still do not control every outcome. I still live in a human body, meet uncertainty, and experience pain. But I trust myself more. I trust that healing can unfold in layers. I trust that an obstacle may also contain information. I trust that life can redirect me without abandoning me. And I trust the quiet whisper that has guided me from student to teacher, from receiver to practitioner, and from fear toward service.
The Life I Choose Now
My life today is not proof that intention guarantees a perfect result. It is proof that intention can change the way we travel. It can open us to support we once rejected, reveal choices we could not previously see, and reconnect us with the part of ourselves that pain could not destroy.
I am still unfolding. I am still learning from my teachers, my students, my clients, my family, my body, and the mystery itself. The path continues to ask for courage, humility, boundaries, celebration, surrender, and trust.
My intention now is not simply to be free from discomfort. It is to remain available to life—to keep choosing truth, joy, service, curiosity, and love. Healing, for me, is not a finish line. It is the ongoing return to wholeness, one conscious choice at a time.
“Intention is the moment we stop waiting for life to choose us and begin choosing how we will meet life.”
An Invitation
If something in my journey speaks to your own—if you feel ready to change your relationship with pain, release beliefs that no longer serve you, reconnect with your inner wisdom, and explore a more intuitive and embodied path of healing—I invite you to work with me privately. Together, we can create a grounded, compassionate space for your own unfolding, at the pace that honours you.



