The mind craves control to feel safe. The heart, however, lives in faith. Faith in divine unfolding, in timing unseen, in a rhythm far greater than personal will. 

 

Suffering does not arise from life itself. It emerges when the mind refuses to align with the heart. Safety, as the mind defines it, is a temporary illusion. It offers predictability, structure, and the promise of protection — yet it quietly halts the soul from moving forward. Growth does not occur in stillness that is forced. The soul was never designed to be preserved in amber. It was designed to experience through feeling.

 

When the mind finally surrenders, the journey continues — precisely as it was always meant to flow. No matter how tightly you grip the reins, you cannot pause the movie of life. You can only delay it. The scenes will play. The chapters will unfold. The soul will insist on its curriculum.

 

Your soul is meant to live through certain experiences — even the painful ones. Especially the painful ones. Not as punishment, but as initiation. Each experience is a refinement, a remembering, an elevation. To avoid them is not safety; it is stagnation.

 

So why do we hold on so tightly to the illusion of control?

 

Because over time, the mind learns fear. As we grow older, we accumulate defenses built from earlier wounds. We harden the heart to prevent it from breaking again. We develop pride to shield ourselves from shame. We construct identities — polished, evolved, socially acceptable versions of ourselves — to fit in, to be liked, to feel respected, to feel safe.

 

These identities become masks. And while they may offer temporary protection, they quietly distance us from the heart’s true yearnings. The heart does not want status. It does not crave approval. It seeks only love and connection.

 

Many who lacked those essentials early in life learned a painful lesson: that love must be earned. Deserved. Proved. So ambition replaced intimacy. Achievement replaced belonging. External validation replaced inner knowing.

 

We told ourselves: If I accomplish more, earn more, become more — then I will finally feel fulfilled. Loved. Secure.

 

And many did exactly that. They achieved. They conquered. They accumulated. Only to discover an unexpected emptiness waiting at the summit. Because no amount of control can substitute connection. No identity can replace authenticity. No achievement can quiet a heart that longs to be felt, not performed.

 

Alignment does not come from tightening the grip. It comes from softening it.

 

When the mind learns to trust the heart — when it releases its obsession with certainty — life begins to move again. Effortlessly. Intelligently. In ways no strategy could have designed.

 

The illusion of control dissolves not through force, but through surrender.

And in that surrender, the soul finally breathes — and remembers its purpose.

 

Yours in surrendering to the heart,

 

Ava