Throughout my life, I’ve glimpsed scattered fragments of what would later become one of the core ideas behind Intent Sync. Living between code and sound, I often asked myself: why must music be static recordings? Could we create something more intelligent—audio that adapts, plays differently, and responds to the listener?
After decades of technical research into the transformative power of sound, alongside studies in psychology, storytelling, and the narratives that shape the mind—and through personal mystical experiences that transformed me from within—intuition whispered: it was time. Time to create something meaningful beyond profit. Life hadn’t gone as I planned, and that could only mean it had reserved another direction for me, one that had been waiting all along. It was time to use my skills for positive transformation in a world that desperately needed it.
Then my father was diagnosed with acute leukemia—an incurable disease that, for someone his age, would progress rapidly, with a life expectancy of less than a year, perhaps even months.
Faced with this devastating news, I worked around the clock—day and night—on the first prototype version of Intent Sync, specifically for him. If there was even the smallest chance of a miracle through intention and sound, I had to try.
I managed to deliver it in time, and he listened to those early sessions about half a dozen times. He was content and grateful for them, yet I felt like I was failing him as I watched him grow weaker.
As the disease advanced, he became too weak to get out of bed, thin and frail, eating little, consumed by depression. He began asking to die. Watching him fade away as my own creation failed to bring the miracle I had hoped for left me devastated. I felt powerless—the project, the dream, the promise of transformation through sound slipping away.
Then came his final day.
In one of his last conscious moments at home, something compelled me to act. I knew this moment was coming—feeling that the end of his life in this plane was near—and I felt a deep impulse to move. I shifted his bed and opened the window so the fresh air and sunlight could touch his face—a warmth he hadn’t felt in weeks.
Holding his hand, alongside my mother and brother, I felt a strong impulse to ask: "Father, let's live. Do you want to live?"
At first, he resisted. Then, for a brief, miraculous instant, I saw hope flicker in his almost-closed eyes. Suddenly, with a clarity that took my breath away, his eyes opened wide—shining green, alive again. Barely able to speak at first, his words were broken, but then stronger, more certain than he’d been in months, he whispered from the depths of his being: "I want to live."
In that moment, everything changed. I realized that the true power of healing I had been seeking was never just about saving the body — sometimes, that simply isn’t possible. It was about something far deeper: An awakening call of the soul itself. The force of intention had reached him, not only through him but through me as well, and together, something ignited. Something moved beyond the physical, dissolving months of despair. For that sacred instant, he was fully present — alive in spirit, whole once more.
I will remember his last morning for the rest of my life.
A week before that day, thinking it might be his last, I made a promise to him in the hospital room. Words tore themselves from me: that I would dedicate my life to creating true healing and transformation through sound and intention. I promised that his life was meaningful, part of something bigger, and that I would find real ways to use technology—guided by pure intent—to help others heal, grow, and transform. I told him I wouldn’t stop until I did.
After he passed away, that promise came back to me again and again—stronger, clearer—filling me with purpose and giving me the strength to continue.
Now he lives within me, and that determination keeps growing every day, guiding me to expand from the Intent Sync app into something greater: Intenters.org — from an app into a mission, from one to the collective. Born from love, loss, and an unbreakable promise to use sound and intention to help people and our world. From one intent to many—something bigger than me—for everyone who resonates with it and is ready to be part of it.
This is why Intenters.org and Intent Sync exist. This is why every intention session matters.
I wrote this with wet eyes and an open heart—as if speaking to a friend, for all who have known loss, despair, and the search for meaning and change.