WANTING WASN'T THE SIN
A Life That Rises From Within
You are not your fear, your past, or your roles.
You are awareness itself—expanding, releasing, returning to light.
And yet, even knowing this—
we forget.
We fall back into the noise.
Into the patterns.
Into the ache of trying to be enough.
Eventually, something within us stirs.
Not loudly. Not all at once.
But quietly—like a memory rising.
This morning, a question returned—
softly, like something I once knew:
What do I truly want?
Not what I’ve been told to chase.
Not success by the world’s definition.
But the kind of wanting that rises from within—
quiet, sacred, and honest.
What is my purpose?
There’s the kind shaped by ego—
driven by striving, comparison,
the fear of not being enough.
And then there’s the kind that comes from presence.
From stillness.
From spirit.
The ego asks, “What can I get?”
The soul asks, “Who am I becoming?”
— Deepak Chopra
Be in the world, but not of it.
That’s what I’m learning.
Success isn’t about escaping the world—
it’s about not being undone by it.
I want that kind of grace.
The kind that lets you move through the noise
without losing the quiet inside you.
To be here—fully, honestly—
and not be consumed.
And somewhere in all of this,
I realized something:
You can have everything—
achievement, recognition,
the appearance of a beautiful life—
and still feel empty
if you don’t know who you are.
That truth landed hard.
Because I’ve been there. I’m still here.
Still unlearning.
Still softening.
Still coming home to myself—
one breath, one moment at a time.
I’ve had moments where everything looked fine on the outside—
but inside, I felt disconnected,
tired,
unsure of what was real.
Because alignment isn’t found in the next milestone.
It’s found in the mirror.
In the way you speak to yourself.
In the peace you feel
when no one else is watching.
And when the noise gets too loud—
sometimes the only way forward
is to get still
and ask.
And when I did,
I didn’t find all the answers.
But I found something else—
evidence of grace
in the places I once called empty.
Because even in the unraveling—
there were traces of light.
Not always obvious.
But there.
A quiet kindness.
A moment of breath.
A truth I wasn’t ready for… but needed.
So I began to look differently.
Not for what was missing—
but for what was quietly holding me.
What am I grateful for?
What quiet blessings have I missed?
Where am I being called
back to truth?
Gratitude that doesn’t wait for things to go right—
but sees hidden blessings
even in the unraveling.
And when I finally slowed down enough to notice—
this found me:
“If you are not radiantly happy,
if you are not filled with joy and love for all beings—
you do not know God.”
— Peace Pilgrim
Not a judgment.
A gentle truth—
the kind that doesn’t point a finger,
but opens a door.
Because when we truly know God—
we soften.
We stop holding on so tightly.
We return to the world lighter.
More rooted.
More real.
So instead of chasing what I think I want,
I’m asking:
What am I becoming?
What can I release that no longer reflects who I am?
Because maybe the greatest success
isn’t what I build—
but how deeply I remember who I am
while building it.
With love,
~ Regina