I was nine years old. I was sitting at my desk. To my left, the window through which I could gaze across the field on the other side of the road, all the way to the horizon. I wanted to run away. Back there, at the very edge of the field, stood a small power house, and in my mind I played out what running away would look like. I imagined reaching it, hiding there, maybe spending a night inside. Should I pack a blanket in my backpack? How would I find something to eat? And where would I go afterward? Then came the thoughts that they would find me right there. That the police wouldn’t take long to track me down.

To my right stood my little radio, playing music softly. I didn’t turn it up, because I wanted to hear if my parents were coming up the stairs. I didn’t want to be caught off guard. Didn’t want them suddenly standing in my room, asking what I was doing and why. Why I wasn’t doing something else instead. I tried to be as quiet as possible, invisible, unnoticed.

And then that song came on again. The song I had been waiting for all along. I hadn’t had any English lessons yet, but I understood every word: “There is a place in your heart and I know that it is love.” Tears filled my eyes. I didn’t know the pain of the world yet—not truly, not fully—but whenever I sensed that something out there wasn’t right, it was dismissed by my parents. I wasn’t supposed to think about it. “We can’t do anything about it. It is what it is. They surely know why they do what they do.”

But every time I heard that song, I knew there had to be people out there who felt the way I did. People who simply sensed that something was off in the world. Inside me grew a quiet, deep longing to help change the world, to help heal it. But my influence hardly reached beyond my parents, who found everything perfectly normal and right. “Just go play something.”

I felt misunderstood. Unseen. Misread, suppressed. I had no connection to anyone. Everything felt so unemotional, so cold, and I felt lost. But then—every time I listened to Michael Jackson—something in me stirred, something deep, something tender. Something no one else was able to reach.

And it was the first time I can remember hearing that voice inside me: “Wait. When you grow up, you can do something. As an adult, you can change the world. Just wait.”

And so I spent a long part of my life waiting. Even when I was already an adult, my life still felt like a waiting mode. As though I were living behind a veil.

But now something inside me has awakened.
And the voice has spoken again.
It said: “The time is now.”

✨ Welcome Loves.
I’ve felt for a long time that one day I would finally share my story.
Today is that day.
This is my very first post — and it comes straight from the dephts of my heart.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve carried a sense inside me… a knowing.
A pull toward healing, truth, and the feeling that the world could be different.
It started when I was a child — quiet moments, music in the background, a voice inside whispering: “Wait. One day it will be your time.”

And so I waited.

But I was impatient. And how could I have known that the voice would return at the right moment…?

For years, I tried to reach out to others.
I had a long spiritual story to tell — through my experiences I knew the traps of awaking, I understood trauma healing in depth and I also went through crazy relationship patterns which I was able to solve.
So I created blogs, social media accounts, communities, real-life circles.
Every time, after a few weeks, I stopped.
What I found was never completion — only burnout.
And then new topics arrived.
Deeper truths.
Or simply more meaning with my children… or in my garden.

Deep inside, I just wanted to be an instrument of the Divine.
I searched for the highest wisdom, and for the channel through which I was meant to share it.

And then, suddenly, it clicked.
The Universe sent me a new teacher — and through him I could finally see how everything I had explored for so long actually belonged together.
All the little pieces formed one big whole.
And for the first time, I stepped into my highest frequency. ✨

Now… I feel profoundly ready for my mission.
With this post, I honor where it all began.
Michael has always been my guide — my inner compass, my light in the dark.
He had to leave this world early, but he followed his truth until the very end.
Guided by the Great Spirit.
And for me… that is what it’s truly all about. ❤️‍🔥

Michael Jackson — Heal the World:
https://youtu.be/teBLivo6VAw?si=xk3JEQFTuMoJIVds

The voice was speaking again.
The time is now.

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This was my first post on Instagram a few days ago. Today, I decided to return to WordPress after having abandoned several accounts in the past. I always wanted to show only one part of myself, to share a specific niche. Yet the flame would soon grow dim, for my passions come and go in phases — though, in the end, I always find my way back to them.

And so I now gather everything in one place: the light, the shadow, the good, the bad, spirituality, social critique, the personal and the universal. All of it belongs to me, and thus I embrace my wholeness and my many facets, offering them to you here — at times gentle, at times harder to digest — upon this digital ground, that they may rise and unfold within your mind.

With much love,
Corina