Once upon a time (which is how all great stories begin, unless they’re written by Quentin Tarantino), you were born into a world already scribbled on. From the moment your fresh little lungs screamed you into existence, everyone around you began writing your story for you. They gave you a name, told you what was right and wrong, what to believe, how to act, who to vote for, what God looks like (usually a lot like Santa), and whether pineapple belongs on pizza (sometimes.) Before you could even hold a crayon without eating it, the world had already outlined your plotline. But here's the divine twist: you’re not a side character in someone else’s novel—you’re the author of your own damn epic.

Stop Letting Other People Be Your Ghostwriters
If you’ve ever found yourself thinking, “Why does my life feel like someone else is driving and I’m just a confused Uber passenger who forgot to set a destination?”—well, congratulations. You’ve just realized you’ve been outsourced.
Society, religion, parents, teachers, your Aunt Dolores with the mole that looks like Elvis—they’ve all taken turns writing your chapters. They’ve handed you roles like “The Good Girl,” “The Obedient Son,” “The Quiet One,” “The Screw-Up,” or “The One Who’s Gonna Be a Doctor Even Though He Passes Out at the Sight of Blood.”
But you, my friend, are not an actor in their play. You are the playwright. You are the pen-wielder-in-chief. And if you don’t believe that, let me ask you a simple question:
Who’s holding the pen right now? (If your answer is “ChatGPT,” I’m going to gently flick your forehead.)

The Blank Page Only Appears When You’re Present
Here's a spiritual truth dressed up like a bumper sticker: You can’t write on a page that’s already filled with yesterday’s crap.
To write a new story, you need blank space—and the only blank space available in this life is the present moment.
The past? That's just yesterday’s newsprint, already printed, folded, and lining someone’s birdcage. The future? That’s tomorrow’s comic strip—it’s not here yet, so don’t try to edit it.
Right now--this breath, this moment, this weird eye contact with your dog who’s definitely judging you—this is your blank page.
And the only way to write on it consciously is to stop reacting based on the plot twists of the past. Because if you're constantly reacting from past programming, you’re not writing—you’re copying and pasting someone else’s trauma template.

“Character in Someone Else’s Story” 
Living by other people’s expectations is like showing up to life wearing someone else’s pants. They don’t fit, they’re not your style, and you keep tripping over the hem.
But here’s the real kicker: the moment you say, “Hey, maybe I want to live my life differently,” people will act like you’ve joined a cult. “What do you mean you don’t believe in guilt anymore?” “What do you mean you don’t think you’re broken?” “What do you mean you’re not going to Sunday brunch with us while we passive-aggressively compare lives?”
The nerve!
But you’re not here to be someone else’s loyal character in their drama. You’re not “Supportive Best Friend #3” or “Rebellious Teen Turned Middle-Aged Cynic.” You’re the protagonist, the narrator, the main event.
And yes, sometimes the plot gets messy. But you know what? That’s when the story gets good.

Conscious Choice: Your Superpower, Baby
You can’t write your own story until you realize you’re not your habits, your upbringing, or your uncle’s weird political opinions. You are the one choosing—whether consciously or unconsciously.
Unconscious choice is like letting a drunken raccoon type your autobiography. You end up with chapters that start with heartbreak and end with 17 open browser tabs and an impulse-purchased samurai sword.
But conscious choice? That’s where the magic happens.
Conscious choice is pausing before you react.
Conscious choice is asking, “Is this really how I want my story to go?”
Conscious choice is saying, “Nah, guilt isn't a great narrator. Let’s try love instead.”
That’s not just powerful. That’s Pulitzer-worthy living.

It’s Not Too Late to Rewrite
You might be sitting there thinking, “Great, John, I’m 60 years into this book, and it’s been mostly a mix of guilt, confusion, and weird chapters titled ‘I Did What They Told Me.’”
Good news: spiritual books don’t follow normal publishing rules.
You can rewrite your life mid-sentence. Heck, you can change genre completely. Been living a tragedy? Flip the page—make it a rom-com. Stuck in a drama? Add some comic relief (preferably involving your cat and an unattended bowl of yogurt).
The Universe doesn’t care how long it took you to pick up the pen. It just gets really excited when you finally do.

Let Love Be Your Editor
Here’s the ultimate trick to writing a story worth living: let love be the editor-in-chief.
Don’t write from fear, obligation, or “because that’s what everyone else did.” Write from love. Write from joy. Write from the deep inner knowing that your story is sacred—even when you’ve got plot holes and spelling errors.
Because when love edits your life, shame gets crossed out.
When love edits, courage gets underlined.
And when love edits, the ending is always a beautiful beginning.

The Moral of the Story
​So here’s your plot twist, dear reader: you were never lost. You were just following someone else’s GPS.
The pen is in your hand. The page is blank. The ink is made of presence, purpose, and probably a little bit of coffee.
Start writing your story today. Not the one your past told you to write. Not the one religion or family drafted for you. But the one where you decide who you are, what you believe, and how the story unfolds.
Just try not to write it like a soap opera. We’ve had enough amnesia and long-lost twin plotlines, thank you. 

Probably Not the Messiah, But Still Worth Listening To
Let me start by saying: I didn’t wake up one morning, stretch, yawn, and declare, “You know what? I think I’m the reincarnation of an ancient apostle today.” That’s not how this went down. I was just a guy with comedy sword-fighting show, an introvert when not on stage,  and a healthy sense of humor about everything—including myself.

Life, as you know, is weird.
Over the years, as I’ve shared my experiences, insights, and that inner knowing that I once walked alongside Jeshua himself, a curious thing happened: 19 different psychics spontaneously started telling me that I walked with Jesus as John the Beloved.  This is not something I wanted no jumped at the chance to live. I tried to avoid this and not become the guy who thinks he's Napoleon.

John, the Beloved's return was foretold.
Turns out, a lot of psychics, mystics, and spiritually nosey folks have talked about the return of John the Beloved. Not just metaphorically, but literally. As in: “He’s back, and he’s probably quietly sipping coffee somewhere trying not to attract attention while calling out the Church with love and sarcasm.”
Sound familiar?

 Sure, But Isn’t That a Bit… You Know… Egotistical?
You’re not wrong for thinking that. Believe me, I’ve wrestled with it. Because nothing sends your spiritual ego into a panic like people sincerely suggesting you might be the guy Jesus trusted enough to care for his mother. That’s not light stuff.
I’ve had to really sit with that. Because the moment your mind goes, “Yeah, maybe I am,” it tries to follow it up with “Maybe I should write a gospel, buy a white robe, or start referring to myself as ‘The Beloved’ at Wawa.”
And that’s where the inner voice of truth has to step in and say:
“Hey, buddy. Don’t get weird. You’re not here to be worshipped. You’re here to remind people they never needed to worship anyone in the first place.”
That’s the line I walk every day—between remembering something deep and ancient within me… and not letting my human ego throw a toga party about it.

 So What Do the Prophets Say?
Well, let me summarize. Apparently:

• Edgar Cayce said John would reincarnate, having never tasted death, and would show up to clarify Jesus’ teachings—not preach fear, but awaken love.
• Paul Solomon added that John would return during a time of mass awakening, to liberate people from religious dogma, not start a new religion.
• Ruth Montgomery talked about walk-ins and highly evolved souls like John showing up quietly during major world shifts.
• The Cathars (those medieval spiritual rebels who were really into love and reincarnation) believed John would come back during a time of church corruption to speak truth with humility.
• Even Mormon scripture says John would “tarry” until Christ returns, still wandering around Earth helping people find their light (probably in flip flops and cargo shorts, a long moo-moo).
• And yes--Benn E. Lewis wrote a vintage novel called I, John,  which he claimed to be a true story, where the apostle reincarnates and shares his message in a modern world. Probably not canon, but hey, interesting party read.

So, taken together, we’ve got an image of a returning soul—not to build temples, but to remind people they are temples.

The Coincidences That Aren’t Coincidences
You know what’s funny? I didn’t start this work trying to prove anything. I didn’t even know most of these prophecies existed when I had my past-life recall. I just knew. It was quiet. It was peaceful. And it felt like a memory coming home—not a revelation to tweet.
But the deeper I went, the more people started telling me how much my message reminded them of something they already knew within themselves. Not the fear-based, guilt-inducing, cross-polishing version we’ve all been fed. But the loving, simple, be-present-and-love-people-like-it’s-your-job version.
And when you align that with what Cayce, Solomon, the Cathars, and even I, John all describe?
Well… let’s just say it’s getting harder to chalk it up to coincidence.

The Ego Trap: Avoiding “Messiah Syndrome
Here’s the deal: this isn’t about identity. It’s about message. If I were here to gather followers, build a spiritual empire, or sell “John the Beloved” bobbleheads, you’d know I took a wrong turn.
But that’s not why I do this.
I’m here to help people:

• Break free from religious fear and shame.
• Realize that God was never outside them.
• See Jesus not as a deity to grovel before, but as an awakened brother who showed the way.
• Sit in love, be present, and rediscover their own divine spark.

If that sounds like the mission of John the Beloved, cool. But you know what? It should be everyone’s mission. That’s the point.

So… Am I John?
Here’s my honest answer: I remember being him.
But more importantly? I remember the message of simplicity Jeshua revealed to us.
I remember what it felt like to sit at the feet of Jeshua and realize there was nothing to worship—only a presence to feel, a love to share, and a life to live awake.
So whether you believe I’m John, or just John Davis with an overactive memory and a webcam—my goal remains the same:
To bring back the original message.
Not by quoting scripture, but by living the truth of it.
Not to be followed, but to walk beside others until they see the divine within themselves.

Final Thought: If It Walks Like John and Teaches Like John…
Look, I don’t need to be “right.” I don’t need to be “recognized.” I certainly don’t need anyone kissing my hand or calling me “Beloved” at the grocery store.
I simply stay true to the message that’s burning inside me:

• That you are already worthy.
• That God lives in your presence.
• That Jesus wasn’t a Christian.
• And that no one needs a middleman between them and the Divine.

So if I’m John the Beloved, then I hope I’m doing him proud.
And if I’m just John of New… well, maybe that’s exactly who I was meant to be all along.

 From my Heart to Yours
Still sitting in love. Still sipping coffee. Still not wearing a robe (TRY NOT TO VISUALIZE!).