It Would Be Nice — and That's the Whole Practice
I am sending you love from Iceland 🇮🇸 — steam rising straight out of the ground like the earth is breathing.
I am here with my daughter, and our first stop was the Blue Lagoon. As I floated in the hot, milky-blue water with cold air on my face and everything soft and slow around me, something quietly surfaced from memory.
This was on my list.
Years ago I wrote it down. Not as a goal. Not as a plan with a timeline and a strategy. Just a quiet little line: it would be nice to float in the Blue Lagoon one day.
I had no idea how. I did not make it happen. And there I was — in the water — remembering joyfully.
The Lagoon Nobody Designed
Here is what I did not know about that lagoon until I stood in it.
It was never planned.
A geothermal power plant opened nearby in 1976, and the mineral-rich water it released was supposed to vanish into the lava field. The engineers were certain. Porous rock — it will drink the water right up.
It did not. The silica sealed the stone, the water pooled, and a blue lagoon appeared where no one had designed one. For years it sat there as industrial runoff. And then in 1981 a man with psoriasis climbed in, and his skin began to heal.
The most beloved healing water in Iceland began as an accident. Nobody engineered it. Nobody could have.
And that, quietly, is everything.
Your Desire Does Not Need to Know the How
Here is the quantum truth I carried home from those waters:
Your desire does not need to know the how. It only needs to be named.
This is why I love the words it would be nice so much more than I must have.
I must have arrives with a fist — a deadline, a strategy, a small scared part of you keeping score. It would be nice arrives with open hands. It names the frequency and lets God arrange the delivery. No grip. No deadline. Just the naming.
Why 111 — and Not Ten
Because at ten, you are still writing the respectable ones.
The trip. The house. The number in the account. The ones that sound reasonable out loud.
Somewhere past sixty, the list turns honest. Small things. Odd things. Things you would be a little shy to say out loud. It would be nice to have tea brought to me while I am still in bed. It would be nice to walk into a room and know I belong there. It would be nice to hold my book in another language.
Those are the ones. The ones with no strategy attached. The ones the E in you — the Eternal essence — remembers wanting before the world taught you to edit yourself.
And I will be honest with you, Name. The first time I made my list, I caught myself crossing things out before the pen finished the word. Who am I to want this? As though wanting were a form of asking for approval.
You get to want, Name. Wanting is not greed. It is the E in you remembering what it came here for.
A Gentle Invitation
Find a page. Write 111 lines that begin with it would be nice. Do not solve a single one. Do not cross anything out. Just name them — all the way to the odd, tender, honest ones at the end — and set them down.
Let the field do what the field does.
Have you created your 111 list yet on the tail of this new moon energy? If you are inside Quantum Freedom, bring your list to our next gathering — we will work it live together.
And one more thing: hit reply and share one line from your list. Just one. I read every single one of them. 💫
A Gentle Reflection
This week, notice where you have been editing your wanting before it even reaches the page.
The crossed-out wish. The desire you talked yourself out of before you let yourself feel it fully. The dream you decided was too small — or too large — to deserve the space.
Give it the space. Write it down. It would be nice.
That is not wishful thinking. That is a prayer with open hands.
Quantum Shift
Hand on heart. One slow breath in. Repeat with me:
I name my desires freely and I hold them lightly. I let it be nice. I let it be easy. I write what my heart wants while the how stays in wiser hands. My wanting is holy, and my list is a prayer. I receive without gripping. I am mE.
It's your turn.
Surrender to LOVE, Vica
