One of the greatest distortions we live under is the idea that joy is foolish, immature, or frivolous. That joy should be hidden away. That joy belongs only to the young, the naïve, or the unserious. This is a lie. Joy is not immaturity. Joy is not frivolity. Joy is a potent, divine frequency.

We don’t call distortion evil—because even the very idea of good and evil is a distortion. The word evil suggests malice, chaos, and forces bent on our destruction. It conjures devils and demons, ghouls and goblins, shadowy figures from story and myth. But those images distract us. They pull our attention outward, away from the true distortion at work in our lives. Distortion is quieter, subtler, more insidious. It is not a monster at the door. It is the current running beneath the floorboards. It seeps into our thoughts, our language, our relationships, our institutions—until it feels so normal that we forget it’s there. It becomes the “truth” we are taught to accept. But these are false truths.

When most people think of evil, they imagine a being—a shadowy figure with intent to harm, something with eyes and teeth bent on destruction. Distortion is not that. Distortion is not a monster. It is not a villain with a name. It is not even personal. Distortion is a parasitic frequency. It doesn’t have a body, but it attaches itself to ours. It doesn’t have a voice, but it echoes through our thoughts. It doesn’t live a life of its own, but it weaves itself through ours.

Many sensitive people in this world learned early on to toughen up, or harden, in order to succeed or merely survive. In learning to hide or emotions later in life we might have to relearn how to feel. How to reconnect with the very part of ourselves that was once wide open. But what if we didn’t have to return—because we never left? What if children were taught, from the beginning, how to stay connected to their hearts?

There Is a Structure in This World Not made of stone or steel, But of beliefs. Handed down like heirlooms. At its foundation is one idea:

“Softness is weakness.”

Not because it is— But because someone once believed it could hurt them. And so they built a fortress around their heart and passed that blueprint on. But it is time we honor softness and stop the ridicule

Most people don’t even realize they’re doing it—Reaching, grasping, aching… for the light. It shows up as cravings, relationships, addictions, hobbies, endless scrolling. We’re all looking for something that sparks us alive. And most of us don’t realize it’s not the thing we’re after. It’s the feeling. That feeling of love. And we can cultivate ourselves without taking, consuming, or guilt.

For centuries, lineages across the world have carried sacred knowledge through blood. Some of these families are known as spiritual lineages, others as secret societies, priestly classes, or noble houses. Regardless of the name, many of them have preserved something through time—rituals, practices, objects, and sometimes access to esoteric teachings. They’ve carried fragments of the old world. Some protected it fiercely. Others forgot what they were even holding.

But preservation is not the same as activation.