Welcome to Song With Secret Codes (SWSC)

Lyrics

I’ve been nice, I’ve been sweet, Paid my dues, stayed on my feet.

But my card just got declined, And I’m two bad days from losin’ my mind.

Ever felt like you’ve done everything right — played nice, worked hard, kept your head up — but life still hits you with a declined card and emotional overdraft? You’re not alone. From celebrities to your neighbor down the hall, this feeling is universal. Disappointment and unhappiness are characteristics of our imperfect world.

Here’s the twist: as long as we want something badly, we’re opening ourselves to disappointment. Craving creates a gap — a constant itch that reality rarely satisfies. The paradox? Letting go of the craving is often the first step toward both peace and prosperity.

It sounds backwards, doesn’t it? That’s because it is — almost like a hidden code to emotional freedom.

When our desires go unmet, the frustration radiates outward like a bad Wi-Fi signal. People feel it. It shows up in our energy — tense, needy, or anxious. That hunger (even if masked with a smile) can repel others, closing doors we didn’t even know were open. And that means? Lost Opportunities!

Ironically, the more we cling, the more things slip away. But when we’re content, grounded, and open? That’s when life starts to flow — opportunities, friendships, support — all drawn to the calm confidence of someone who isn’t chasing, but attracting.

Tired of playin’ it safe and small, If luck’s a game, I want it all.

Put my faith in a higher plan — With open arms and empty hands.

When life keeps throwing curveballs, frustration builds — and in that vulnerable space, many of us turn to something bigger than ourselves. Some might see this as irrational or even childish. After all, from a purely logical perspective, there’s no concrete evidence that gods or goddesses exist, or that they would favor us in particular.

But where does this yearning come from?

Psychologically, it’s rooted in our earliest memories. As infants, we cried — and seemingly out of nowhere, a loving giant (a parent or caregiver) appeared to soothe us. That early pattern wires us to believe: if I cry out, someone will save me. Later in life, that same instinct may evolve into a longing for divine rescue.

In Buddhism, the Buddha doesn’t play the role of a savior, but his teachings recognize this emotional reality. He offers a middle path — one that accepts our longing but gently guides us to outgrow it. Spiritual figures like Jambhala in Tibetan Buddhism can symbolically answer our prayers for support, especially in times of financial fear or insecurity.

But here’s the deeper twist: Buddhism isn’t about staying dependent. The true goal is to transform into the very refuge we seek.

When we aspire to become like Jambhala — generous, fearless, abundant — we shift from craving to creating. We move from “please save me” to “let me uplift others.” That’s real wealth: when the heart is so full, it overflows effortlessly.

That’s all for now.

May all be well and happy.