11:11 Lyrics

Eleven eleven…
I’m ready to want what I want.

11:11 has always been the crack in the day where the universe slips me a note that says:

“Hey. You’re allowed to want things.
Even in this mess.”

It’s never been just an angel-number to me.
It’s the moment I stop picking the thought that bruises me and start picking the one that actually leads somewhere.

Most days I feel like someone standing in a hallway with both hands on the walls — one hand on my old survival self, one hand on my newer aligned self — trying to write from the middle without exaggerating either side.

That’s where this song was born.

🖤 CROW-SCRIPTURE INTRO

(What 11:11 means in my myth)

Eleven eleven is when the wire wakes up.

Crow steps on the line and taps twice, twice — four knocks in the quiet.
It means the hinge is open, the thought is turning, the truth is already whispering under my tongue.

There’s no door to push.
Only the split inside me:
the part that braces
and the part that already knows.

11 is crossing.
11:11 is crossing mirrored — Will seeing itself.
Permission standing beside desire like two kids caught whispering the same wish.

In Crow-language, the whole thing collapses down into one sentence:

“When the wire hums 11:11, I’m already aligned. I just have to admit it.”

A quiet yes.
A feather on the tongue of God.

🍼 THE MOM-LIFE CHAOS MAGICK LENS

11:11 doesn’t find me meditating with crystals arranged in sacred geometry. It finds me trying to smash trash into an overflowing bin because I don’t want to go outside in the cold.

It finds me half-asleep, overstimulated, thinking about groceries, debt, dinner, dreams.

I’m not a monk.
I’m a tired mom trying to remember that my thoughts matter.

11:11 is my reminder that magick doesn’t need incense.
It just needs permission.

Magick = micro-choices + attention + self-permission.

A softer thought.
A lighter grip.
A moment of “Oh right… I could think something that doesn’t pinch.”

🌬️ A SHORT ABRAHAM-HICKS EXPLANATION

(For anyone who hasn’t heard of her)

I found Abraham Hicks when my life kept glitching the same way over and over — same relationship pattern, same illness patterns, same “I’m trying so hard why isn’t it working, the universe hates me” energy.

Her core ideas shook me awake:

• alignment instead of effort

• relief over self-punishment

• choose thoughts that feel better, not thoughts that feel like “facing reality” (because the version of “reality” I was taught to face was basically rehearsing the worst-case scenario)

• desire is guidance, not guilt

• emotion is a compass, not a crime

I grew up thinking “facing reality” meant:

• brace for disappointment

• expect the problem

• don’t get your hopes up

• prepare for the crash

• assume the shoe will drop because that’s what shoes do

• money doesn’t grow on trees

But Abraham reframed it for me:
what I called “reality” was usually just fear wearing a grown-up tone.

And every time I “faced reality,” what I was actually doing was:

practicing the disaster version of the future until my nervous system believed it was the only option.

Choosing a better-feeling thought wasn’t denial.
It was permission.
It was direction.
It was me saying:

“I’m allowed to stop choosing the thought that hurts.”

She always says:

“You can’t suffer your way into joy.”

And the line that changed me forever:

“You’ve asked for a lot of change… so a lot must change.”

That’s what 11:11 became for me.
A sign I was in the middle of rearrangement — not collapse.

When I practiced choosing softer thoughts — just tiny ones — things changed.
My body calmed.
My life softened.
And I met Justin… who literally matched the feeling I had practiced imagining on a beach long before I knew his face.

I pictured safety, curiosity, steadiness, and play.
He arrived with smoothies, growth, and stability.

My unicorn.
(Yes… there’s a song about him.)

Not because I forced anything.
Because I finally allowed something.

This is what 11:11 is for me now —
the pivot point where permission overtakes panic.

LYRICS — 11:11

[Intro ]
Eleven eleven…
I’m ready..
Eleven eleven…
I’m ready..
This is when the next step feels easier
when the thought becomes clearer.

[Verse]
Gate with no door—
Eleven shows the split in me.
Life I live…life I agree.
Side by side…what feels free?
stop picking the thought that pinches.
Path lights up when I stop pushing
Above meets below where ease lives
Will meets Witness—both commit.
Desire meets Permission bit by bit.
Self meets Self when I choose what lifts.
choose the thought which softens my grip

[Pre Chorus]
What I want is not far—only noisy
My future self is whispering.
Warm thoughts pull; sharp ones smear.
Future-me taps from eleven’s mirror.

[Chorus x 2]
Eleven eleven…
I’m ready to want what I want.
Eleven eleven…
I become the one who moves on.
I’m ready..
path meets me where I’m at.
Eleven eleven…

[Bridge]
Higher self taps my furrowed brow
Motion moves without lifting the arrow.
I am allowed.
Allowed to want.
Allowed to move.
Allowed to choose myself and follow through.

[chorus]
Eleven eleven…
I’m ready to want what I want.
Eleven eleven…
I become the one who moves on.
I’m ready..
path meets me where I’m at.
Eleven eleven…

[Outro ]
stop arguing with the version of me that made it.
I’m ready to let ease lead the movement.
The shadow is listening.
My path is lit.
Eleven eleven…
I’m ready..
Eleven eleven…
I’m ready..

🖤 CROW BLESSING

May the wire hum soft when your mind gets loud.
May the hinge swing open without asking you to force anything.
May the thought that hurts lose its seat.
May the version of you who survived be honored, not corrected.
May the softer thought find you first.
And may every 11:11 be a tiny door where your future self whispers,
“Here. This way. You’re allowed.”