Alchemy for the Soul

How One Phrase is Changing My Perspective on Life

“To know you is to know peace.”

I prefer to live my life without labels. If you were to ask me about my musical taste, I’d sooner describe my favorite albums with colors they remind me of, emotions they invoke, and other verbose metaphors before simply saying, “I like ‘90s R&B”. Does that make me extra, or does that make me the ideal person to write on Substack?

(smooth intro, right?)

“We gotta make a change.

It's time for us as a people to start makin' some changes.

Let's change the way we eat,

Let's change the way we live,

And let's change the way we treat each other.

You see, the old way wasn't workin',

So it's on us to do what we gotta do to survive.”

—2Pac, Changes

Life is all about change, and I’m wandering this maze with perpetual curiosity. I’m always picking up new hobbies and can be found on most occasions internally narrating my day. I ask my friends obscure questions about space and reincarnation to try and crack an unsolvable puzzle. Simply put, I treat life like a game. Daily objectives could look like drinking a gallon of water, walking at least 10,000 steps, or consuming my weight in grams of protein. I try to call my grandma once a week, and I already know what movies I want to see in the theater next year. This process of setting goals and achieving them brings a strong sense of self-worth. And somehow, I thought it was a great idea to bring this same practice into my spiritual development. For several months now, I’ve been asking God one thing:

“Test me.”

When I close my eyes, I see the man I aspire to become. And there’s a clear gap between who I am now and who he is. And though I’ve tried my best, that space can’t be closed with just goals. I can’t reach that next level on my own. But I’m more familiar with the brute weight of diligence than the empty levity of patience. So I’ve been repeating this same phrase multiple times a day.

“Test me. Test me. Test me. Test me.”

I want to prove I’m ready for the next step, not just with my author journey, but also in how I develop my own musical sound, deal with conflicts, deepen friendships, and be a more reliable brother. To be that man. But this year has had its challenges.

I used to like challenges.

But this challenge isn’t one I can win. There’s no accomplishment at the end, like a degree, a trophy, or a check I can mark on my notes app. Only recently did I see the paradoxical issue I created for myself. I ask for these tests, but then I’m surprised when everything around me becomes an obstacle.

Let me explain: If I’m grocery shopping and someone grabs the last salmon, I see that person as an opp. I was thinking about that salmon all day. Now what am I supposed to eat? Tilapia?! My emotions flare up, and my body is thrown into disarray as I try to find the meaning of this lesson. But does it really need to be so…deep?

“Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is Alchemy's First Law of Equivalent Exchange.” -Alphonse Elric from Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood.

I was raised Southern Baptist, and a constant theme amongst the sermons was individuals who had to suffer because they didn’t listen to God (strong over-generalization here, I am aware). The gist is, we suffer on Earth so we can reap our reward in heaven. But I've started to see the difference between love as a noun and love as a verb. Let’s break it down together.

Love as a noun is best understood as a way of being: raw, unconditional, and free of sacrifice. Pain doesn’t need to be the key that qualifies someone for heaven. Pain just is. The fact that it’s so impersonal is honestly what makes it hurt the most. If no devil is working against you, if God isn’t trying to show you something, then what is the point? Pain can be proof of a love once departed. And while that does suck, I have found some peace in throwing up my hands and just saying, “Welp.” I charge it to the game of life and find comfort in putting away my armor and releasing my inhibitions (shout-out to that song, you know the one).

We should also talk about the other side: love as a verb, an act. There’s a quote from a classic anime I love, Fullmetal Alchemist: “Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is Alchemy's First Law of Equivalent Exchange.” This is where we can actually make a change. I’ve found that what I need to sacrifice—or, exchange—is perspective. When I feel I need to prove to be worthy of whatever I’m asking, I’m inherently saying I don’t deserve it just for being me. To my knowledge, I didn’t ask to be born. But that doesn’t make me any less qualified to achieve the dreams I have inside. By shifting this perspective, I choose to love myself without a prerequisite. The work I do, the books I read, and the steps I take aren’t to achieve a goal. It’s to be a fuller version of myself. The reward is my own peace.

So now there’s a new phrase that speaks to my heart.

“Align me.”

Alignment literally recalibrates my brain to a higher frequency, clearing the static that was once buzzing in my head. It reveals a path that allows me to let go. It was this statement that showed me a lot of things, one of which is to start this Substack. This is a love that doesn’t need to be proven. My lived experience is the receipt of its validity.

“Align me. Align me. Align me.”

Earlier this week, I was on the beach stargazing, hands open, just repeating that same phrase for what felt like an hour. And when I finally looked down, moonlight bathed my skin, and for a brief moment, stardust fell like rain across my palm. There was no doubt, no thoughts, just a calm knowing. It was better than any dream I’ve ever experienced about myself; not because it was perfect, but because it was real.

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Hey again, thanks for reading. My name is Aaron, and I’m creating a science-fantasy franchise across books, music, and more. I’m working on getting an agent for my YA Afrofuturism book now, but in the meantime, I wanted to make a Substack detailing my own personal growth. I’m a Stanford grad, neo-soul enthusiast, and can make a mean lamb chop. I aim to bring innovations to science and art, and everything I do builds me into a more intentional leader. And—surprise—you reading this is one step in that plan. I appreciate you, and until next time, remember: [insert something cool here Aaron, you can do it].