I want to talk to you about something simple… and sacred. It’s not a philosophy, or a system, or a secret formula. It’s a feeling. It’s that tiny, unmistakable yes in your chest. You’ve felt it before. The moment you said yes to something that scared you a little - but felt alive. The moment you laughed until your stomach hurt. The moment you were making or creating something and completely lost track of time. That little yes isn’t loud. It doesn’t shout. It whispers. And most of us have spent years talking over it. The world trains us to listen to everything but that yes. We learn to chase goals, grind harder, and keep score. We follow the loud voices — the ones that say, “Be more. Get more. Win more.” But the yes in your chest doesn’t care about more. It only cares about real. It’s the signal that says, “This matters.” “This feels like me.” “This is the right direction — even if I can’t explain why.” When you ignore that yes, life becomes heavy — successful maybe, but hollow. When you follow it, life starts to fit again — not perfectly, but truthfully. The yes in your chest speaks in sensations, not sentences. It shows up as warmth, or calm, or that small expansion just under your heart. It’s the opposite of tension. It’s the body’s way of saying, “More of this, please.” You don’t find your purpose by thinking harder. You feel your way toward it. You notice what gives you energy. You notice what makes time disappear. You notice when you feel quietly alive — not hyped up, not performing — just peacefully right. That’s your Ikigai beginning to stir. Not as an idea, but as an instinct. When you say yes to those moments, you’re not discovering something new. You’re remembering who you’ve been all along. The yes in your chest isn’t always convenient. Sometimes it asks you to slow down when everyone else is speeding up. Sometimes it nudges you toward honesty when pretending would be easier. Sometimes it asks you to leave things that look good on paper. But that’s the cost of real alignment — trading comfort for clarity. Trading noise for truth.