This piece arrived like a long exhale after holding my breath for years. It wasn’t written to be clever or polished—it came through in the language of release.
I Wanted is a litany of longing. A confession. A soul-inventory of all the ways desire tried to shape the world around me. Wanting love. Wanting ease. Wanting truth, freedom, safety, connection. The very human wish to make things go my way… and the quiet devastation when they don’t.
Expectations are resentment in the making…
But underneath all that, this poem carries something else: the slow unwinding of that wanting. The eventual surrender. The sacred collapse. Not as failure—but as freedom. That moment when desire, exhausted, lays itself down. And something deeper—still, timeless, nameless—rises to take its place.
It was never about getting what I wanted. It was about letting go enough to see what was always there.
This piece isn’t meant to instruct or resolve. It’s here to resonate. To walk beside you if you’ve ever stood in the rubble of a dream and found, somehow, the quiet beauty of being emptied. Not broken. Just returned.
If it touches something in you, let it. That’s all it’s meant to do.
If you share it and it touches someone else, even more amazing… you are now part of the chain, the team of light workers who are opening the road to a better world. Welcome!
I wanted the world a certain way
But learned it’s better as it is
For who am I to judge the play
It’s been perfect for million years
I wanted you to stay with me
But you changed the direction
I thought I knew what’s best for me
But you called it an addiction
I wanted life to be easy
Yet most days feel crazy
Nothing is fair, nothing is right
I know there’s nothing left to fight
I wanted all my friends around
And stop feeling I’m on my own
It seemed easy to live unbound
But now silence answers the phone
I wanted freedom to be real
Yet not trying felt like a steal
The more the want, the less the feel
Was freedom not part of the deal?
I wanted to be seen and heard
Closed my eyes, plugged my ears
Inside my head a thousand birds
Singing the hymn of thousand fears
I wanted to feel safe and sound
Looking for help in God’s playground
Nowhere it was this time around
Some things are sought but never found
I wanted, I wanted, I wanted
I begged, I bent, I broke apart
So much wanting emptied my heart
Until silence took wanting’s part
In the stillness, silence spoke
No choice, no name, no joke
Sharp breath, cut to the bones
Every second heavy like stones
And then the veil finally tore
I saw what had been there before
Everything was mine to the core
Once I dropped the wanting more
What Comes Next — The Sacred Paradox Series
This piece is the opening note in a larger unfolding—what I’m calling The Sacred Paradox.
It’s a series of transmissions, written from the tender edge where spiritual truth and human rawness meet. Where we can both scream and be still. Where the nervous system trembles, and yet, some part of us knows everything is already whole.
Over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing six pieces—poetic, reflective, sometimes spoken, always real. They’ll follow the trail of this paradox, not to resolve it, but to live it more fully.
Here’s a glimpse of what’s coming:
1. Walking Barefoot into Uncertainty — trust when nothing feels safe
2. Voice Unleashed, Heart Untouched — how to speak from fire without burning out
3. The Perfection of the Storm — letting chaos belong
4. Sitting with the Monster — being with fear instead of fixing it
5. The Transmission of Paradox — truth that can’t be taught, only felt
6. Sacred Rage, Sacred Stillness — how anger and peace can breathe in the same body
If any of these titles stir something in you—stay close.
You don’t have to sign up or chase. Just come as you are. I’ll be here
