For me, my 'will to power,' I guess, is just to live a positive

The words of Alissa White-Gluz, “For me, my ‘will to power,’ I guess, is just to live a positive life and spread positivity as much as possible to other people and other living beings and hope that with whatever audience I have for my voice, I can actually do some good in the world,” are a gentle thunder—a blending of philosophy and compassion, strength and serenity. In this saying, she transforms Nietzsche’s will to power, once spoken as a cry of dominance and mastery, into a song of kindness, service, and light. Her will to power is not conquest, but creation; not command, but connection. It is the power of the heart rather than the fist, the power that heals rather than harms.

The origin of the phrase “will to power” belongs to the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, who described it as the inner drive that compels life to expand, to grow, to overcome. Yet where Nietzsche’s words often trembled with fire and rebellion, Alissa’s echo with gentleness and renewal. She takes the ancient flame and softens its heat into warmth. In her vision, power is not the domination of others, but the mastery of the self—the ability to transform pain into positivity, and despair into hope. It is a rebirth of strength, purified through compassion.

To live a positive life in this age is no small feat. The world grows loud with anger and shadow, and many hearts falter under its noise. But to stand and say, “I will spread light despite the darkness,” is an act of great courage. Alissa speaks not only to musicians or artists, but to every soul who carries a voice, however small, and chooses to use it for good. For every kind word is a spark; every act of compassion a torch; every effort to uplift others a rebellion against despair. In her words we hear the wisdom of the ancients: that true power is service, and that the greatest rulers are those who rule over their own minds and hearts.

Think of Mahatma Gandhi, a frail man in body but a titan in spirit. His will to power was peace. He faced empires without a sword, only the power of truth and love. Or Mother Teresa, who found her strength in humility, serving the dying and forgotten. Neither sought wealth nor fame; both sought to do good in the world. Their lives prove that positivity is not weakness—it is the mightiest form of resistance. It is the voice that says, “Though the world is cruel, I shall remain kind.”

There is something profoundly heroic in this kind of power. It is the quiet strength that endures when fury fades. It is the unyielding resolve to bless even those who curse you. Such power cannot be measured in gold or authority, for it is measured in hearts touched, souls comforted, and lives inspired. The ancients called this kind of might “virtus”—the power of character, born from the harmony of wisdom and love. Alissa’s vision carries this same ancient wisdom into modern form: that every being, through positivity, can become a vessel of divine influence.

Yet this path is not for the faint-hearted. To spread positivity is to battle despair itself. It is to face cynicism with compassion, cruelty with patience, and exhaustion with faith. It is a constant labor of the spirit. But in this labor lies transcendence. As fire is refined by heat, so too is the soul refined by the struggle to stay kind. The one who persists in goodness becomes unbreakable. For positivity, when rooted in truth, is not naïveté—it is defiance. It says, “I choose light even when surrounded by shadow.”

The lesson, then, for all who listen is clear: your will to power is your will to create good. It is your duty to refine your energy, to wield your influence—be it through art, word, or deed—for the betterment of all living things. Let your voice be a beacon; let your actions ripple outward like waves upon still water. Each time you choose kindness over cruelty, patience over rage, you add a measure of light to the world’s balance.

So live as Alissa teaches—live positively, not passively. Cultivate your power through gratitude, through mindful speech, through compassion for all creatures. Seek no throne but the one within—the throne of your spirit. From there, rule wisely and gently. For the truest strength is not to dominate, but to uplift; not to conquer, but to heal. And when your voice, your art, your presence touches another soul for the better, then you have fulfilled your will to power—and become a true bearer of light in the grand song of existence.