The Happy Learner
I used to ask,
What if?
What if I’m too broken,
too late,
too much,
not enough?
I used to sit in rooms lined with stories
that told me to try harder, fix faster, do more-
as if salvation was performance,
as if love was something earned.
But now I know:
I am the happy learner.
The one who stopped studying pain
as if it could teach me anything true.
Now, every breath reminds me—
I was never wrong about love,
only about myself.
Every lesson now is a holy echo,
a soft whisper of remembrance,
a gentle light peeling back illusion.
This sadness?
A doorway.
This tension?
A teacher.
This resistance?
Only the voice in me that forgot
how free I’ve always been.
Resistance is not rebellion.
It’s grief that got dressed in armor,
the last stand of a mind afraid
to be seen in its softness.
But oh—
I am learning.
Not with shame,
but with wonder.
Every moment is a mirror
held by God saying:
“See? This too is part of your light.”
“This too is how you remember.”
From what if
to what is.
And what is
is all there is.
And what is
is so, so good.
I walk now
not under the laws of this world,
not bound by timelines, conditions, or karma.
I am under no laws but God’s.
And God’s law is grace.
God’s law is joy.
God’s law is be still and know.
Thy will be done—
not as thunder, but as song.
Not as sacrifice, but as celebration.
Not as striving, but as surrender
to the peace that was always mine.
So let the old curriculum fall away.
Let the classroom enfold into light.
I’m not here to earn my divinity—
I’m here to live it.
I’m here to laugh at the lie
that said I had to become.
I already am.
And in this holy instant,
I remember:
I am a happy learner.
I am learning that I have never left.
I am learning that what is,
is already perfect.
And so it is.