💫 Rubberband Karma: The Bounce of Unlanded Energy

karma is real: what doesn’t land, comes back stronger

There is a pattern I’ve observed in my own life, especially as I’ve deepened my awareness and worked intentionally on my inner field. I call it rubberband karma.

Rubberband karma is what happens when someone sends energy toward you: emotional, verbal, psychic, or even subtle intent. But instead of landing and embedding itself into your system, it hits your field and bounces. The energy doesn’t disappear. It ricochets. And when it comes back, it doesn’t just return the same way it arrived. It comes back with velocity, force, and often, clarity.

We don’t always realise how much energy we absorb from others. Many of us were trained to be emotional sponges: taking on moods, feelings, projections, and even fantasies from people who didn’t know how to hold their own internal weather. When we begin to heal, we slowly stop absorbing. We become mirrors instead of reservoirs. We feel what’s around us, but it doesn’t penetrate us. And this is where the rubberband effect begins.

When energy is sent and it has nowhere to land, it rebounds. But that bounce isn’t neutral. Just like a ball thrown against a wall picks up speed depending on how tightly the surface is held, the energy returns amplified. That return might look like consequences unfolding in the sender’s life. It might look like shame, confrontation, or simply silence where they expected a dramatic entanglement. But the result is the same: energy ungrounded will always return home.

This isn’t revenge. It’s not even punishment. It’s just feedback.

The more grounded you are, the more you reflect. The less reactive you become, the more the truth echoes through the action. When you stop taking responsibility for feelings that aren’t yours, you stop interrupting the lessons that others need to walk. And that is a sacred boundary.

Rubberband karma isn’t about wishing people harm. It’s about allowing the energetic field to do what it naturally does: respond. That’s why I don’t pray for specific outcomes for others. I don’t know what they need. I don’t know what their soul is trying to learn. I only know what’s mine to hold.

So I burn frankincense. I say simple prayers. I protect my field. And I let the rest bounce.

Let it land where it belongs. Let it teach what it needs to teach. Let it come back as clarity, not cruelty.