0 Hz

0 Hz

Our attention has become one of the most valuable things we own, and everyone wants a piece of it. We pick up our phones or turn on the TV, and we’re handed another reason to worry, whether it’s the ongoing presidential drama or the news constantly spreading stories about sickness going around. It’s just so much fear being pushed at us, and it’s easy to forget that none of those things have the authority to decide what’s happening inside of us. We are in charge of what we feel. Fear is a choice we can either feed or refuse. That’s where this message is coming from. It is coming from a place called 0 Hz. Scientifically, 0 Hz represents zero cycles per second. I respect the science, but I’m more interested in what that idea represents in our everyday lives. To me, 0 Hz is the place underneath everything else. It’s the part of us that existed before fear or expectations had anything to say, long before we spent years trying to understand who we were through everyone else’s eyes. There has always been something within us that life could never erase. The world can influence, challenge, and shape our experiences, but it cannot touch the deepest part of who we are unless we allow it. That should change the way we look at everything. To understand why I see the world this way, you have to go back to my childhood. Growing up, my mom had an old-school record player, and every Saturday morning she would put on a record by the Clark Sisters. My sister and I weren’t allowed to listen to what they call “secular music,” so gospel was the music I grew up on. If you know the Clark Sisters, you know they are a gospel group who can harmonize like no other. Their voices alone make you feel absolutely everything when they sing. There is one song, my favorite, called “I’ve Got an Angel.” One line from that song has stayed with me all my life: “I’ve got an angel watching over me, keeping me from all hurt, harm, and danger.” That lyric was something I chose to live by, even when I was little. I’ve always had a vivid imagination. Back then, I would picture actual angels standing around me, protecting me. Now I realize that even though my wording has changed, I still feel exactly the same way. One day I found myself thinking about an invisible field surrounding me, a space where any harm, ill will, or negativity trying to come against me simply bounces right off. I live by this every single day. Whether I’m driving or walking into a crowded room where I feel nervous, I count on that field being there to protect me. That invisible field is exactly what inspired this song, 0 Hz. The origin of frequency. Before birth. Before our soul entered this world. We were already whole. Whenever I receive a message this important, I always think, Man… I need to embody this for real. So I turn it into a song. Music is the art of sound, and when a message is wrapped inside a song that sounds good, you want to put it on repeat. Every time you press play, that message sinks a little deeper into your mind. Without even realizing it, your mind and your soul begin to accept it. You start embodying the message naturally, just by letting it play. So always be mindful of the lyrics of the songs you’re vibing to. I really feel like this message and this song were given to me to hand to the world right now, to remind us that peace is still available. That is what happened with the lyrics to this track. One of my favorite lines says, “Before my first breath, You knew me.” Another says, “Nothing enters that was never mine. Nothing leaves that love has claimed.” I love that because it shifts the conversation completely. We spend so much of our lives trying to hold on to people, outcomes, opportunities, identities, and even worries that aren’t our responsibility. There’s a profound freedom that comes from realizing not everything deserves access to your heart. Some things simply pass through, while others remain because they were always meant to. Creating 0 Hz mirrored that lesson. I didn’t build this song inside an elaborate studio with endless equipment. I created it with simple tools, a lot of intuition, and a willingness to trust what kept showing up inside me. That experience reminded me that creativity has very little to do with having everything. It has everything to do with using what’s already in your hands. The same is true for peace. It’s not waiting somewhere else, and it’s not attached to a destination, a relationship, a paycheck, or a future version of yourself. It’s available the moment you remember where home is. For me, home is a state of being. The lyric that probably says this best is, “I no longer ask to be surrounded. I am the surround.” When I wrote those words, I realized that for years I believed peace had to come from the right environment or the right circumstances. Then one day, after going through the fire, I understood that peace isn’t something I receive. It’s something I become. As the world continues changing, things may get even messier. That’s why it’s so important for us right now to learn how to embody peace no matter what’s going on around us. When you become that peace, the world can keep spinning and life can continue doing what it does, but there’s a place within you that remains untouched. And it’s in your control. That’s what 0 Hz means to me. It’s not about escaping life. It’s about remembering myself. Today, give yourself a few quiet moments. Turn your attention inward. Notice what’s truly yours, release what’s not, and return to the place that’s been there from the very beginning. When you’re scared or lonely, imagine that invisible force field surrounding you, protecting you. Return to the knowing that you are everything. Return to the place beneath the chaos. Return to the place where you have always been. Get full access to The Soul Behind It at imaginemeinnovation.substack.com/subscribe [https://imaginemeinnovation.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_4]

I Never Heard This Word Before

Have you seen the movie Disclosure Day? I watched it a few weeks ago, and I’m still talking about the ending. Now don’t worry. If you haven’t seen it yet, I’m going to try not to spoil it for you. But I do have to talk about how it made me feel. For almost the entire film, you’re waiting for answers. Every single scene pulls you in a little deeper, and the suspense builds so much that you’re convinced everything is finally about to make sense. You keep expecting someone to step forward and explain the whole mystery. Instead, the final message is delivered in just one word: “Listen.” Right after that, the screen goes black, and we’re all just sitting there like… okay. There was no explanation, no happy ending, and nobody telling us exactly what it all meant. What stayed with me wasn’t just the word itself. It was the feeling that the movie had quietly handed all the responsibility right back to us. It was almost as if it was saying, “You’ve spent all this time looking out here. Now stop. Listen.” Not to another opinion. Not to another expert. Just… listen. I immediately felt the ending was pointing us inward. That’s what I gathered from it. The timing couldn’t have been better. I’d already been focusing on this learning how to be at peace, be quiet, and tune in to myself. I was already paying attention. A few days later, I heard someone mention a word I’d never heard before in my life. Of course I was curious. They said it was powerful enough to heal. I grabbed my phone and looked it up, and the word was Ephphatha(ef-FAH-thuh). I had no idea where it came from or what it even meant. As I started reading, I found myself in the Gospel of Mark, where people brought a man to Jesus who was deaf and had a severe speech impediment. One detail caught my attention immediately: Jesus didn’t heal him in front of the crowd. He took the man away from the crowd. That part seemed important to me. Then the account says Jesus looked toward heaven, sighed deeply, and spoke one single Aramaic (air-uh-MAY-ik) word: “Ephphatha.” Which means… “Be opened.” Instantly, the man’s hearing was restored, and his speech was set free. I can’t explain it any better than this I felt something in my soul when I read that story. It didn’t feel like I was just reading words on a page. It felt alive. It felt true. And I couldn’t walk away from it. Of course the miracle is incredible, but the part I kept thinking about was the word itself. The Gospel writers preserved the original Aramaic word. They easily could have translated it. Instead, they left it exactly as Jesus spoke it. More than two thousand years later, we’re still reading and saying that exact same word. I couldn’t get that out of my mind. Then the ending of Disclosure Day came right back to me. Listen. Then this ancient word: Be opened. I never sat down trying to force a connection between the two. One invites us into stillness. The other invites us into openness. Those two words just felt like they belonged together. I went through a heavy season where everything became unbelievably quiet. It wasn’t the peaceful kind of quiet. It was the uncomfortable kind, where life felt like it had stopped moving. I couldn’t distract myself anymore. I couldn’t outrun my thoughts. It was just me. At first, I wanted that season to end as quickly as possible. Then something unexpected happened. The quiet became one of the greatest gifts I’d ever been given. It slowed me down enough to notice things I’d been missing. It introduced me to parts of myself I’d forgotten. It reminded me that clarity doesn’t shout. Most of the time… it whispers. That season didn’t give me a new identity. It simply helped me remember the one I’d been neglecting. By the time I finished reading about Ephphatha, I knew this couldn’t stay as something I’d simply learned. It had to become music. I didn’t want to retell a Bible story. I didn’t want to explain theology. I wanted to take an ancient word and place it right into a modern conversation. We live in a world that never stops talking notifications, opinions, headlines, algorithms everyone competing for our attention. Somewhere underneath all of that, our own inner voice gets harder to hear. It made me wonder how much of life I’d been overlooking simply because I was moving too fast to notice it. The relationships we’d overlooked. The creativity we’d ignored. The peace we’d postponed. The prosperity that had been quietly waiting while our attention was somewhere else. As I worked on this song, I intentionally placed bells throughout the track. They’re subtle. They’re not screaming for your attention. They simply became part of the experience. This song isn’t asking anyone to think exactly the way I think. It’s simply an invitation. An invitation to slow down long enough to hear yourself again. An invitation to become open. Open to whatever life has been trying to place in front of you. The older I get, the more I’m convinced that some of the biggest moments in our lives don’t arrive with fireworks. They arrive quietly. A conversation. A sentence. A word you’ve never heard before. Something catches your attention. You follow it. Then, before you know it… your life has changed. That’s my story. One movie. One ancient word. One song. I don’t think that’s a coincidence. I believe life has a beautiful way of placing exactly what we need right in front of us when we’re finally open enough to notice it. So before you move on with your day, I’d like to leave you with the same word that found me. Not as a formula. Not as a guarantee. Simply as an invitation. Ephphatha. Be opened. Be opened to what you’ve been unable to see. Be opened to the courage you’ve forgotten you have. Receive the peace that’s been waiting for you to slow down. Wake up to the opportunities already finding their way toward you. Step into an abundance that’s so much bigger than money. Open yourself up to your own life. If this ancient word found you today the way it found me, I hope it brings you the same peace, hope, and sense of wonder it brought me. Until next time… Ephphatha. Be opened…🙌🏽 Listen to EPHPHATHA here [https://open.spotify.com/track/7voToJWTVCTCfNjNVvNiKZ?si=18MusPYWR3u5JFOTprR3xw&utm_source=copy-link] 🎵 Get full access to The Soul Behind It at imaginemeinnovation.substack.com/subscribe [https://imaginemeinnovation.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_4]

The Future Belongs to the Discerners

Today I want to talk about how things are getting a little odd out there right now. Every single time I pull up my phone and start scrolling, I look at stuff and wonder, Wait, am I being played here? For real though, we’re living in a time where we just can’t fully trust our own eyes and ears anymore. We’ve got AI-generated images that look completely real. Cloned voices that sound exactly like our friends or family. Entire personalities built strictly from code and pixels. And if that whole situation feels completely overwhelming, I get it. I’m definitely not the only one feeling that way. But I want to find some peace of mind today. I don’t need to become paranoid about everything. And I don’t need to waste my life verifying every single post or turning into a digital detective. We already have something way more powerful than that. We have intuition. That gut feeling. See, there’s a massive difference between basic perception and actual recognition. Perception is just what our physical senses pick up on the surface. Recognition? That’s what our deeper, inner knowing connects with. Technology can easily fool our perception. It can imitate looks, recreate voices, and mimic expressions perfectly. But recognition operates on a much deeper level. That’s why I’ve had those moments where everything looked perfect on paper, but something deep down just felt seriously off. Think about it, we’ve definitely experienced this before where we’ve walked into a room and instantly sensed a heavy tension before anyone even opened their mouth. Or we met someone who seemed great, but that inner voice went, No, something aint right here. Most of us have ignored that vibe before, only to regret it later. We’ve all been there right? That right there is intuition. It isn’t some brand-new skill we have to learn just because AI is taking over. It’s an ancient, built-in system we simply forgot how to tune into and trust. Now here’s the important part: intuition is not a lie detector. It’s a guidance system. It won’t always pinpoint exactly what’s fake, but it will absolutely signal when something deserves a second look. It creates this crucial buffer zone between what we’re seeing and what we automatically accept as truth. That pause where we question things? That’s where the magic happens. Most major mistakes occur when we react on impulse instead of investigating. The tricky part is that intuition dont scream at you. It whispers. Meanwhile, we are living in a society that never shuts up. Notifications, headlines, algorithms, endless opinions, and constant alerts. Everyone is aggressively battling for our attention 24/7. We’ve allowed so much clutter into our lives that we’ve completely forgotten what pure stillness feels like. It’s like trying to listen to an acoustic guitar while standing right next to a jet engine. The music is playing, but the racket completely drapes over it. That’s why strengthening this internal muscle isn’t about exploring new information. It’s strictly about creating space. That means giving myself five minutes of stillness before touching the phone in the morning, or taking a walk outside without putting in earphones. It looks like driving down the highway with the radio off, or just sitting with a challenging question instead of immediately searching for the answer online. Those are small, simple habits, but they completely clear the inner static. Personally, I believe the absolute greatest risk of AI is not that it becomes way smarter than humans. I feel it’s when we stop listening to ourselves. If every single answer we need comes from a screen, eventually we’ll forget how to find the answers that arise from within our own minds. Maybe the future isn’t asking us to become tech geniuses. Perhaps it’s a wake-up call to become more human. More present, aware, and more connected. The more cluttered the world gets, the more valuable stillness becomes. And oh boy that word stillness, that’s a whole nother conversation! The people who are gonna truly thrive in the years ahead won’t necessarily be the ones with the fastest gadgets or the latest software. It’s going to be the ones who know how to stay grounded while everything around us is rushing by in a blur. The ones who know how to hit pause, listen closely, remember that true wisdom doesn’t always stem from downloaded facts. Most times it appears through total quiet. So my goal is to not to stress about what’s coming next. Technology is gonna to keep evolving, because that’s just what it does. But our deepest inner knowing is always available to us, and it always has been. Let’s get outside today. Put our feet on the earth, take a walk, and just watch the sky for a minute. Putting the phone down and breathing is so vital. No matter how advanced this world gets, there is a piece of us that remains completely untouched by the racket. And that might just be the most valuable thing we own and don’t even realize. Song Attached: Inner Radar (Instrumental) not published! Image attached: Texas Skies Get full access to The Soul Behind It at imaginemeinnovation.substack.com/subscribe [https://imaginemeinnovation.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_4]

Dude, I’m Not Invisible

Today I really just wanted to sit down and have a genuine conversation with you. Usually, when I record an episode, there’s a script in front of me. I write things out and organize my thoughts ahead of time because, for real though, public speaking has never been my thing. Writing has, though. I can sit down and type for hours... songs, blogs, books, journal entries, you name it. The words flow like water from a wide-open tap. But the second you put a microphone in front of me, I become crazy aware of every imperfection and, gosh, it’s cringy. It feels like hearing your own voice on a bad voicemail on repeat. Yet, about a year ago, I felt a serious calling to start using my voice anyway. It wasn’t because I felt qualified or comfortable. I just knew my message needed to be expressed through my actual voice. So, I started showing up. Throughout the past year, I’ve learned that most of my work doesn’t come from heavy planning; it comes from quiet listening. I rarely sit down and map out my next project six months in advance. Instead, something just finds me... a lyric, a lingering question, or an idea that refuses to leave me alone, constantly tapping me on the shoulder. Eventually, I realize it’s not going away until I make that move and give it a home. That’s exactly how Sermons I Never Heard in Church came to be. I’ve mentioned this album before, but it’s been a while, and I know many new listeners might not even know it exists. When the idea first started coming to me, I definitely hesitated. Not out of a desire to be controversial or to throw rocks at anyone else’s faith, but for a much more personal reason, man: the ideas were challenging my own dang beliefs. The project forced me to confront heavy questions I had been sweeping under the rug. It invited me to look at spirituality, identity, freedom, abundance, and self-worth from angles I hadn’t always been willing to consider. There were moments I genuinely debated whether to release it at all, not because I thought it was wrong, but because I knew it could easily be misunderstood by people who just don’t get it. I wasn’t trying to preach, convince anyone of a specific doctrine, or swap out one rigid belief system for another. I was just documenting a raw journey of exploration, figuring out what actually felt true in my bones. But no matter how much I tried to drag my feet, the music and the internal dialogues kept coming, boy. I eventually realized my responsibility wasn’t to get everyone to agree with me; it was simply to create what I was being called to create. So, I put it out into the world. Looking back, I still view this project as one of my most life-changing creations. Mainly because it embraces the questions instead of forcing neat little answers. Questions create breathing room, invite curiosity, and give people the okay to think for themselves. The album was never about being 100% certain... it was about the beautiful, messy freedom of exploration. On Tools, Transparency, and the Human Element While we’re talking about realness, I want to address something that comes up quite a bit: AI. Many of you know that I integrate AI into my creative process, using it for music production, artwork, graphics, and album covers. Frankly, I think it’s one of the most powerful tools out there for independent creators today. It doesn’t generate the spark, it just helps bring my vision to life. Don’t get me wrong now... the concepts, lyrics, emotions, and direction still originate entirely from my soul. Technology is just the vehicle, but I’m the one behind the wheel. The same goes for my photos. If you’ve followed me for any length of time, you’ve probably seen various AI-generated versions of my face floating around. Some are close, some look like a distant cousin I’ve never met, some make me look younger, and others completely and annoyingly alter my features. Anyone who has messed around with image generation knows just how unpredictable and wild that process can be. Because transparency matters deeply to me, I never want you to feel like you’re connecting with an artificial version of me. That’s why, alongside this episode, I’m sharing a collection of actual, unedited photographs from different chapters of my life. No AI, no digital enhancements, no creative filters. Just me... the real, breathing person behind the songs, the blogs, the books, and these podcasts. Technology can amplify an idea, but it can never replace genuine human authenticity. Redefining Visibility Lately, I’ve also been reflecting on visibility. There have been moments recently where I’ve felt a bit invisible, like I was shouting into a massive, empty canyon. It’s a lonely feeling I think a lot of creators recognize: you pour your heart into your work, hit publish, and watch it float off into the digital void. But I recently had a major shift in perspective. I actually stopped to look at my podcast metrics and my Substack numbers. I saw 400 subscribers and 8k downloads, and looked at the incredible community of people reading, listening, and supporting this work. I caught myself wondering: How can I call myself invisible when hundreds of real people are actively and intentionally choosing to pull up a chair here? Dude, I’m not invisible at all. I’m truly convinced and thankful I pressed through my own self-sabotaging. Maybe my vision is just way larger than my current reality, and I get so focused on the distant horizon that I forget to look down at how many miles I’ve already walked. It’s a vital lesson for all of us. Sometimes we overlook the people who are already paying attention because we’re waiting for some massive, sweeping validation from the rest of the world. I want to quickly mention Architect of Desire. While many of you know me through music, writing is truly where I feel most at home. It’s where I can slow down, breathe, and fully look at an idea without rushing. While my full-length books are still cooking in the kitchen, Architect of Desire gives you all a chance to experience my writing voice right now. The series is currently running through Pride Month, and if you’d like to dive in, I highly recommend starting with Series One to experience the story exactly as it unfolds. It’s easily one of the best examples of my raw writing and how I truly express myself. I want to leave you with the musical version of everything we just talked about. It’s basically my way of saying, look, I didn’t follow the rulebook, I didn’t wait for anyone’s permission, and I still found my peace anyway. Call me crazy, call me a rebel, or hey, call me a saint or a fool either way, I’m still here. I just want to say a sincere thank you. Thank you for listening, reading, and joining me on this wild ride. I may never sound like a polished, professional broadcaster, and I will likely always prefer the keyboard to the microphone. But I’ve learned that discomfort is no reason to stay silent. Song attached: Saint or Fool on “Sermons I Never Heard in Church” Get full access to The Soul Behind It at imaginemeinnovation.substack.com/subscribe [https://imaginemeinnovation.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_4]

The Gate Was Never Locked

Do a quick check-in right now. Look down at your shoes. Look at your hands. Feel the weight of yourself sitting in that chair or standing on that floor. Actually tap into the exact space you’re occupying in this room. I bring that up because most of the time, our bodies are here, but our minds are completely checked out. We’re logged into last week replaying some old drama, or we’re fast-forwarding into next month, sweating over stuff that hasn’t even happened yet. Always playing that “when-then” game. “When this situation clears up, then I can finally breathe.” “When I get over this next hurdle, then I’ll start doing me.” That’s treating today like a waiting room for a flight that keeps getting delayed. We’re chasing a moving target. Right now is the only piece of time that actually holds any real currency. If you’re always living in tomorrow, you’re trapped. If you’re stuck in yesterday, you’re carrying dead weight. The only place where you are completely unbothered, unlocked, and free is right here in this exact second. The Smoke Screen There’s this idea we carry around that a massive, heavy iron gate is standing between the day-to-day grind and real peace. Like we’re waiting for a green light from the world, or waiting for somebody else to say it’s okay before we can step out and own our life. But looking closer reveals that the gate is a total illusion. It’s a smoke screen. It looks thick, dark, and heavy from a distance. But the moment the hesitation stops and you just take a step forward? You walk right through it. Your foot hits solid ground. Nobody has to pass over a crown for you to be the boss of your own life. Nobody has to hand out a hall pass for you to take your seat back. The opening is already there. Sometimes the only thing making the wall look so big is just standing back and staring at it. Evicting the Squatters Of course, the minute you try to just sit still and enjoy right now, the brain starts getting noisy. All those old doubts and past situations start creeping in, whispering, “You remember what happened last time,”or “You’re not ready for this.” Think of those thoughts like squatters. If somebody snuck into your house, sat on your furniture, ate your food, and started tearing the place up without contributing a dime to the rent you wouldn’t let them chill there. You’d throw them out on the street immediately. Those negative, loud thoughts are doing the exact same thing. They’re living rent-free in your head, but they don’t own the property. You do. When your space gets crowded and noisy with everyone else’s opinions and old memories, it’s impossible to hear your own voice. Clearing out that chatter isn’t about being perfect; it’s just about reclaiming the real estate in your own head so you can actually hear your own intuition. The Open Hand (The Detachment Shift) But here is where the real test comes in. Even when you clear the noise, you have to look at how tightly you’re gripping your life. Most of us are walking around with a script in our heads about how tomorrow is supposed to go. We think it has to happen by a certain date, in a certain way, or it’s a failure. That is attachment. And attachment is just another way of living in a future that doesn’t exist yet. You’re literally spending today’s currency to buy tomorrow’s anxiety. Picture a clenched fist. When you’re stressing over a specific outcome, your fist is tight. You’re trying to squeeze reality into the shape you want. But a clenched fist does two things: it makes your arm tired, and it makes it impossible for you to receive anything new. Life can try to hand you a blessing, but your hand is too full of the old script to take it. Detachment is just opening your hand. It doesn’t mean you don’t care, and it doesn’t mean you stop grinding. It just means you have the confidence to let life flow freely. When your hand is open, things can come and go without ripping your skin off. You keep your peace non-negotiable. The Thermostat When you let go of that grip, that’s when you actually have the power to choose how you show up. A lot of times, people operate like a thermometer. A thermometer can only reflect the temperature of whatever is around it. If the room is freezing, it reads freezing. If the environment is frantic, messy, and loud, their whole internal energy becomes frantic, messy, and loud. The outside weather dictates their inside peace because they’re too attached to the chaos. But there’s a much better option. Being the thermostat. A thermostat doesn’t care if it’s dropping below zero outside. It sets the temperature for the room, and the room has to adjust to it. Staying locked into the present moment with an open hand is how you set your own temperature. It’s no longer about reacting to the storm; your internal stillness is what keeps the storm from getting inside. The authority over your focus and your will is already there, but you can only tap into it when you let go of the script and live in the present tense. When I write, it’s for me first then I share with you. I’m gonna ask myself this question… Is it going to be another day spent sitting in the waiting room with a clenched fist, or is it time to open my hand, step through the smoke screen, and set the temperature? Get full access to The Soul Behind It at imaginemeinnovation.substack.com/subscribe [https://imaginemeinnovation.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_4]