Saturday

 My favorite number today is 222. I rose around 3:00 AM, on the mat by 3:45. The morning began with stretching, meditation, and push-ups — the kind of movement that teaches patience. My back is tight, but it’s a healing pain.

As I moved, I felt my body guiding me. I got on my feet today — a new step — and when the mind tried to rush, I slowed down. I breathed. I stayed present. That’s when the word self-honesty came to me.

I left every emotion on the mat this morning. I didn’t hide from them — I sat with them. Many of us run from our emotions, especially the ones we don’t understand. But when we face them, when we sit with silence, that’s when true gratitude begins. Silence heals. Love heals. But without self-honesty, love is impossible.

As the day unfolded, I continued to learn about spiritual wealth — to be truly rich without needing material things. I’m grateful for the lessons of these past weeks, for my body, for patience, for this journey.

Later in the day, I realized how powerful it is to see without reacting. I’m beginning to understand the patterns of human behavior — how people say they want change, but their actions still chase the same comfort that keeps them stuck.

When a person tries to escape pain instead of sitting with it, they never truly heal. The body can’t lie. The mind finds excuses, but the body always tells the truth. Silence, movement, and patience reveal more than any argument ever could.

Every day I see how easy it is to hide behind noise, to speak of healing without living it. Staying sober through hardship has taught me gratitude. Peace doesn’t come from what I consume — it comes from what I release. The more I breathe and move slowly, the more I understand that discipline is the highest form of freedom.

Today’s lesson is simple: silence heals, truth protects, and self-honesty sets the soul free.

As evening arrived, my thoughts turned toward The Wealth of Stillness. I see now that not accomplishing what others did early in life was a blessing. I used to think happiness meant success — money, family, admiration. I thought emotions were weakness. But through meditation, yoga, and silence, I learned that what people call success is often just movement — not peace.

If I had gained material wealth early, I might have missed the deeper truth. I now see how much suffering hides behind comfort. Society teaches how to make a living but not how to be alive. Pain, loss, and rejection all became my teachers — each one a redirection toward truth.

True wealth is not money or status. It is the ability to sit in silence and know who you are without needing anyone’s confirmation. The mind becomes your friend when you breathe deeply, move honestly, and live truthfully.

I am not chasing success anymore — I am success. I am becoming the kind of billionaire that counts not dollars but depth — wealth measured in awareness, compassion, and silence.

When I look back at my life, I see that everything has been perfectly placed. Growing up in England, I thought success meant happiness — a car, a house, a family. I wanted to be a doctor, a footballer, to have it all. But even with every gift and talent, my mind wasn’t ready. Something deeper was calling me.

The first time I experienced loss was when my grandmother passed in 1983. She introduced me to Ifá — to wisdom and the possibility of spiritual intelligence. She was my first Buddha, my first teacher. Her passing began my awakening.

For years I carried an invisible weight, but through Buddhism, running, and meditation, the fog cleared. Enlightenment doesn’t come from classrooms — it comes from living, from losing everything, sleeping under the sky, and still finding peace.

Pain turned to joy. Shame became wisdom. Every struggle became a teacher. My grandmother’s spirit, my solitude, and my discipline shaped who I am. I am now at peace, ready to share this spiritual intelligence with the world.

I am not just my father’s son — I am his brother, his ancestor, his continuation.

I am living proof that discipline, silence, and faith can rebuild the mind and awaken the divine.

Yoruba Yogi