Life Unfolding

 At one time you stand there look

When Answers No Longer Matter Ever spend years of your life trying to figure out who did what, why they did it, and why they never apologized? I've been there. I wasted what felt like decades trying to understand the reasons behind the pain in my life. But here's the truth I finally discovered: the answers don't really matter anymore. When life unfolds before you—when you finally see the whole picture—you realize that no explanation can change what happened. No reason is good enough to justify the hurt. And most importantly, no answer can rewrite your past. The enemy—whether that's people who hurt you, circumstances that broke you, or your own demons—tried to destroy you because somewhere deep down, you knew you were meant for something more. Something greater was waiting for you on the other side of all that pain.

Writing Down the Ghosts One of the most powerful steps in my healing journey was brutally simple but incredibly difficult. I wrote down names. Every single person who had hurt me—ex-girlfriends, ex-wives, former friends, abusers—everyone. Next to each name, I documented everything they ever did to me. I wrote down every hurtful word: "You're worthless." "You're stupid." "You're a moron." "You're an idiot." These words had been anchors weighing me down for years, pulling me into depths of self-doubt and pain. This process wasn't about revenge or dwelling in victimhood. It was about acknowledgment. It was about facing the truth of what happened instead of burying it. As a musician, I know that you can't create beautiful music if you're ignoring dissonant notes—you have to acknowledge them first. The simple act of writing it all down was like pulling poison from a wound. Once spoken aloud or written down, these experiences lost some of their power. They were no longer secrets festering inside me. They became just words on paper—heavy words, but merely words nonetheless. The Ritual of Release After documenting everything—every name, every action, every cruel word—I did something that changed my life. I took that paper and drew an X through each name. I cut up every page into tiny pieces, gathered them all in a shoebox, and set them on fire.

As I watched those fragments burn, something remarkable happened. The weight I had carried for so long began to lift. The moments that had defined me for years turned to ash. They didn't disappear from my memory, but their grip on my present loosened. In music, we talk about resolution—how tension in a chord progression must resolve to create satisfaction for the listener. This burning ritual was my resolution. The discordant notes of my past finally found their way to harmony. This ritual wasn't about forgetting. It was about freedom. Freedom from being controlled by people who never deserved that power in the first place. The Child That Was Hurt But there was still one piece missing in my healing journey. After addressing what others had done, I had to face what had happened to me—specifically, to the child within me who had been hurt. For years, I had done what many of us do with our pain: I locked that wounded child in a box. I shoved him in a closet. I put him somewhere where he couldn't get hurt anymore. I thought I was protecting him, but really, I was abandoning him. What I discovered was profound: that hurt child didn't need protection. He needed love. After dealing with all the external wounds—the things others had done and said—I was finally ready to address the internal wound: the broken child and teenager inside me. I didn't know how to help him at first. The pain felt too overwhelming,too deep-seated.

Then I discovered something beautiful. I symbolically took that child, that hurt and broken younger version of myself, and I placed him against my chest. I brought him into my heart. The moment I did that—the moment I stopped hiding from my wounded self and instead embraced him with compassion—that's when everything changed. That's when it finally became okay. When Life Truly Unfolds Life unfolding isn't about getting all the answers. It's about realizing you don't need them anymore. It's about understanding that while we can't change yesterday, we don't have to let yesterday control today or tomorrow. The people who hurt us may never apologize. The questions we have might never be answered. And that has to be okay. The enemy tried to take me down because he knew who I was supposed to be. He knew what I was meant to do. In my case, it was music—creating sounds and lyrics that help others feel less alone in their own struggles. Whatever your calling is, I bet the hardest battles you've fought were trying to keep you from reaching it. Here's what I've learned: When you finally confront your past and make peace with your pain, you discover that you were always meant for something greater than your hurts. Whether it's creating music, teaching others, building something beautiful—your purpose has been waiting for you while you've been caught up in trying to understand your pain. Breaking the Chains The moment you confess a problem to someone else—the moment you say, "This is what happened to me, this is what's hurting me"—that problem loses its hold on you. The devil can no longer beat you over the head with it. It's no longer an anchor; it's just a story—your story, but not your destiny. This is what I mean by "Life Unfolding." It's seeing the full picture, acknowledging the pain, and then choosing to move forward anyway. It's realizing that while we can't change what happened, we absolutely can change how it affects us going forward. In music, there's something beautiful about dissonance resolving into harmony. That tension creates the most satisfying resolutions. Our lives work the same way. Sometimes the most painful experiences create the foundation for our greatest strengths. Finding Your Own Ritual of Release If you're carrying burdens from your past, consider creating your own ritual of release: Acknowledge what happened by writing it down Name those who hurt you and what they did List the hurtful words that still echo in your mind Find a safe way to symbolically destroy these lists (tear them up, burn them safely, etc.) Most importantly, embrace your wounded inner self with love This isn't about forgetting. It's about freeing yourself from being controlled by your past. It's about choosing who you want to be now, regardless of what happened before. The Music Plays On As a musician, I know that every great song contains moments of tension and release. Our lives are no different. The hardest parts of my journey gave depth to my music that I couldn't have created any other way. What I once viewed as setbacks, I now see as the very experiences that allow me to connect with others through sound and lyrics. The pain that once threatened to silence me became the source of my most authentic expression. Life unfolding means seeing the whole symphony—the beautiful parts and the painful parts—and recognizing that they all contribute to who you are. And who you are is someone worthwhile, someone with a unique voice, someone with a purpose that matters. So if you're still trying to make sense of your past, still hunting for answers that never seem to satisfy, consider that maybe the answer isn't understanding why it all happened. Maybe the answer is simply deciding that, from this moment forward, you get to write the rest of your song. And I promise you, it's going to be beautiful.