🪩 Becoming God’s Disco Ball: Notes from the Edge of Awakening

There was a season of my life when it felt safer to watch the world than to live inside it. I stood at the edge of reality—loving Earth deeply but overwhelmed by its noise, its trauma, and its intensity. This artwork captures that in-between space: the butterfly not quite flying, not quite leaving—just remembering how to land again.

And from that threshold came a song—God's Disco Ball Time Machine—a walking meditation about rediscovering your own light, one step at a time. Listen. Walk. Shine. More stories, music, and transformational art at: https://tretaylor.com

A confession from a butterfly stepping back into the world

Written by Tré Taylor & Bleep the Tattoo
Category: Confessions—first-person transformation · inner awakening · embodied healing · spiritual return

Dear Reader,

I think I finally understand something about myself.

I have spent most of my life as a student of human behavior—a quiet observer, a butterfly perched gently on the wall of reality, watching how people move through the world while wondering why I often felt completely out of phase with it.

For a long time, I wasn’t really living my life.
I was watching it.

Part of that was survival.
Part of that was healing.
And part of that was simply learning how to exist inside a body that experiences energy, emotion, and reality a little differently.

If you’ve ever felt like that—like you’re both inside your life and outside it at the same time—then you already understand more than you think.

🌊 The Hermit Years

In January 2013, after a profound sacred healing experience that felt like a near-death awakening, I stepped into what I now call my “hermit years.”

It wasn’t isolation for the sake of escape.
It was a deep commitment to healing—nervous system repair, shadow work, and learning how to come back into my body without pain.

For years, I lived quietly, inwardly transforming.

And somewhere along the way, my van—my mobile Studio 3—became what I jokingly call God’s Disco Ball Time Machine.

Because inside that tiny space, time dissolves.

Meditation stretches into eternity.
Music becomes medicine.
Healing becomes movement.

I stopped measuring life by clocks and started measuring it by breath.

Bleep: “I tried becoming enlightened once, but then I realized enlightenment looks better with sequins.”

🦋 Returning to Earth

Something has shifted recently.

After spending time out of the van, pet-sitting, reconnecting with community, and simply being in different environments, I realized something simple and profound:

I’m ready to come back into the world.

Not the old version of it.
Not the old version of me.

But a new rhythm—grounded, embodied, curious.

Every breath now feels like a giggle of anticipation.
Like life is whispering, “Okay… now we begin again.”

🪩 The Neurodiverse Light—Surfing Between Worlds

There is something I’ve come to understand about neurodiversity that feels deeply sacred. Many of us who live with ADHD, autism, dyslexia, or beautifully unconventional ways of thinking have spent our lives learning to navigate a world that wasn’t designed for our wiring. We learned to adapt, to read energy, to sense patterns, and to find creative solutions where none seemed to exist. And through that journey, we developed resilience—a capacity to hold complexity, to feel deeply, and to perceive reality through angles others might never notice.

If you have ever felt like you live between worlds—part observer, part participant—you are not alone. Some of us arrive early to change, sensing shifts before they become obvious, standing at the edge of transformation like surfers watching the horizon for the next wave. It can feel strange. It can feel overwhelming. And yet it can also be a profound gift.

So here is my gentle invitation: surf well, my friends. Stay light on your feet like a cat. Hold your curiosity more tightly than your fear. Feed your nervous system with beauty, joy, and moments of quiet presence. Meditation doesn’t have to be stillness—it can be movement, walking, dancing, or breathing in rhythm with your own heartbeat. Give yourself permission to pause before spiraling into worry, to rest your mind long enough for your spirit to catch up.

If you feel different, sensitive, or ahead of the curve—that difference is not a flaw. It may be a kind of brilliance that simply requires a new language and new spaces to thrive. Your perspective matters. Your creative solutions matter. Your Rh-negative blood really matters now. Your spirits’ light matters. You are designed for this time and have what it takes to get through this next phase of graduation preparations.

So if you’re waxing your board on the shore right now, preparing for waves you can feel but cannot yet see—I salute you.

Shaka, baby.

Let’s spin our light together.

🌱 The Gratitude Tour Begins

This is where the Gratitude Tour is born.

Slow travel.
Meaningful encounters.
Spiritual and creative collaboration.

I feel guided toward rivers, gardens, mountains, music circles, and the quiet places where people are building beauty on the ground—artists, gardeners, healers, musicians, and storytellers.

People who are planting seeds for a more compassionate world.

My mission is simple:

✨ Shine light on these people and places
✨ Share their stories
✨ Collaborate through music, food, art, and laughter
✨ Help build community rooted in healing and creativity

Think of it as storytelling meets pilgrimage.

🎶 Why “God’s Disco Ball ”?

Because somewhere along this journey, I realized something:

I’m not just searching for light.

I reflect it.

A disco ball doesn’t create light—it amplifies it, scatters it, and turns one beam into thousands.

That’s what creativity does.

That’s what healing does.

That’s what community does.

And maybe that’s what I’m here to do.

Bleep: “The light always wins… but honestly it helps if it has a good soundtrack.”

🌿 Neurodiversity, Healing & Becoming Whole

As a neurodiverse creative, I learned early that my brain doesn’t follow conventional maps.

Traditional systems didn’t always make sense to me—but music did. Movement did. Psychology did. Stories did.

Healing meant learning to work with my unique wiring instead of fighting it.

It meant becoming my own inner parent.
Learning patience.
Learning compassion.
Learning how to come home to myself.

And now, for the first time, I can stay in my body without wanting to escape it.

That alone feels like a miracle.

🚐 A New Vision: Creative Community & Tiny Dreams

As this next chapter unfolds, I’m dreaming bigger.

I want to help build spaces where creative people can land—even temporarily—to collaborate, heal, and grow.

Tiny homes.
Creative hubs.
Music studios.
Shared kitchens.
Places where artists and travelers feel supported instead of isolated.

This is still forming. Still evolving.

But I know this much:

We don’t heal alone.

Bleep: “Some people chase enlightenment. We installed a dance floor and waited for it to arrive.”

💫 How You Can Be Part of This

If this story resonates with you, here’s how we can walk together:

✨ Follow the Gratitude Tour journey
✨ Collaborate creatively—musicians, DJs, storytellers, visionaries welcome
✨ Support the crowdfunding campaign to help build this next chapter
✨ Share your story—because your voice matters too

🎧 A Gift For You: Walking Meditation

To celebrate this new beginning, I’m sharing a song:

“God’s Disco Ball Time Machine.”

A deep, meditative, tribal-inspired walking journey—created especially for those of us who heal through movement.

If sitting meditation feels impossible, try walking.

Let the rhythm guide your breath.
Let the music carry your thoughts.
Let yourself be curious again.

Thank you for being here.

This butterfly is still unfolding her wings.

And if you see a sparkle of light passing through your life—that might just be me, reflecting yours back to you.

With love, music, food, art, and fun,

Tré Taylor & Bleep the tattoo