Number 2: Dropping the Need
Once upon a hoard I clutched everything I owned like a smoldering dragon sitting on gold, and called it survival. Cute story. Total lie.
Let’s talk about „need”. That whiny, needy little word that convinces you you’re one missed paycheck away from ruin, one unreturned text away from unloved, one bad quarter away from irrelevant. Need dresses up as caution. It’s actually a leash, and you’ve been holding both ends.
Here’s the trick nobody tells you: every ‘need’ you’ve got, you invented. Not discovered — invented, on purpose, to justify a point of view you were already attached to. ‘I need this client.’ ‘I need this relationship to work.’ ‘I need people to like me.’ Interesting point of view, isn’t it? Cute stories. Also lies you paid a price for. I did too.
Follow the breadcrumbs and need always leads to the same cottage in the woods: greed. Grip it tighter, hoard it harder, never let go of anything in case the universe forgets to send more. Congratulations, you’ve built yourself a very tasteful hamster wheel with a hoarder’s den attached.
Here’s the part people mix up: dropping need doesn’t mean dropping desire, and it sure doesn’t mean living small and grateful for crumbs. Ask for more — by all means, ask for more. The universe isn’t on a budget. The difference is you’re no longer gripping out of fear; you’re calling it in out of choice. Hoarding says I might not get more, so I’ll never let go. Asking says I get to have more — with ease, joy, and glory — so why would I ever need to hold on so tight?
I know this one intimately. I have needed jobs I hated, needed approval from people who couldn’t spell my name right, needed a version of „financial security” that required me to shrink into something smaller and duller than I actually am. How much good did it do me? Zero. Nil. Nada. It just kept me small, humble, and grateful for scraps — exactly the way the Cartel of Possibilities does NOT want you.
Here’s the plot twist your inner dragon already knows: infinite beings don’t need. They choose. Need is scarcity cosplaying as wisdom. Choice is you, actually awake, actually in charge, actually playing.
So next time „need” tries to sneak into a sentence — I need this to work, I need them to say yes, I need it to make sense — STOP. Ask instead: what am I choosing here, and what else is possible? Who would I be today if I didn’t have to be the version of me I learned to be? What can I do or be today that would create more — right away, with ease? What would I have to do or be to have the life I’d actually like to have? If I choose this, what would show up? What would my life look like five years from now if I made this choice instead? Different questions, different universe, same you, minus the leash.
Drop the need. Keep the dragon. My (not yours — wink wink) truly, Rich Witch Happiest Bitch.
