How to Harness the Power You’ve Always Had—And Stop Going Down the Wrong Path

I still remember the lunchroom in 10th grade; there was a kid at the center of it all, trading snacks. It wasn’t just about what he had—it was the way people were drawn to him, the way he seemed to hold all the power.

I felt the pull, too. It wasn’t hunger that drove it; it was the sense that if I didn’t have what he had, I was missing out. That feeling of want—it wasn’t really about the snacks at all. It was about the power they seemed to give him, the sense that he could decide who got what, and who was left wanting.

This week, I’ve been thinking about enticement in the context of power.

Why are we so often drawn to things that we believe will fix us, only to feel emptier after the chase? What if the things we desire most aren’t what we truly need—but mirrors, reflecting the fears we haven’t yet confronted?

What if the pull of enticement isn’t the problem—but the way we let it define us?

What Makes You Want What You Can’t Have?

I walk into the playground, and everything feels the same—until it doesn’t. New kids join every year, but this time is different. She’s standing there, the new girl, and the air around her is electric. It’s hard to explain how a child can hold that kind of power, but in our small school, it was unmistakable.

She didn’t have to do anything. Her very presence was enough to draw everyone toward her, like moths to a flame. And I was no different. I watched from a distance, feeling the pull of something I couldn’t yet articulate. She wasn’t just a person; she was a symbol—of something I didn’t have but desperately wanted.

At that moment, I realized it wasn’t her I desired. It was the effect she had: the way she attracted people, the way they seemed to orbit her as though she were the center of the universe. It wasn’t love or infatuation—it was the allure of power. The kind of power that makes people want to be near you, want to know you, want to belong to you.

But here’s the thing about power: it’s intoxicating, and it’s elusive. That moment in the playground stayed with me, even as the years passed and the new girl faded into memory. What lingered was the question: What makes something—or someone—so enticing?

As I grew older, I chased the answer. And like anyone chasing something they don’t fully understand, I stumbled. I was enticed by things that glittered but weren’t gold. I mistook fleeting pleasures for lasting fulfillment. I sought validation in places that couldn’t give it to me, and I paid the price.

But slowly, I learned. I learned that enticement is not the problem—it’s the teacher. It shows us what we desire, but it doesn’t tell us why. It offers a promise, but it doesn’t guarantee the outcome. What we do with that promise is up to us.

Why Do You Keep Chasing What Won’t Feed You?

When you’re immersed in a garden, its color and movement can be overwhelming. Flowers bloom in every direction, their petals open wide, beckoning bees with promises of nectar. The air hums with life, a symphony of purpose where each creature plays a role. Every bloom is an act of enticement, not a passive display but an active strategy—a negotiation between species for survival.

In this vivid harmony, there is a quiet beauty, a mutual exchange where both flower and bee benefit. Yet, not all enticement is so balanced. In the dark ocean depths, where no sunlight reaches, the anglerfish reigns. It offers no color, no sweetness—only a ghostly light. Its lure is a promise, one that smaller fish cannot resist. But this promise is a trap, drawing prey into the jaws of destruction. Here, enticement serves only the predator.

This contrast mirrors our own lives. We are drawn to both: the garden’s invitation and the glow in the deep. Sometimes, what pulls us is nourishing and mutual, like the flower; other times, it is deceptive and consuming, like the anglerfish. Understanding the difference is not always easy. Both are enticing because both speak to our instincts—our desire for beauty, novelty, and promise.

But the choice is ours. In our actions and our creations, we decide whether to be the flower, offering sustenance and growth, or the anglerfish, luring others to satisfy only ourselves. Enticement is not inherently good or bad—it’s a tool. The question is how you choose to use it.

Why Are You Still Waiting for Permission to Belong?

The queue for da Vinci’s Mona Lisa can be intimidating. Hundreds of people gather, their anticipation as thick as the air in the museum. They jostle for position, craning their necks for a glimpse of the most famous smile in history. But what draws them isn’t just the painting itself—it’s the collective energy of the crowd, the sense that this is something you must see, must experience. The allure of the Mona Lisa is as much about the story around her as the enigmatic woman on the canvas.

This is the power of cultural enticement. In the Renaissance, artists like da Vinci used every tool available—light, shadow, perspective—not just to create but to captivate. Their work wasn’t passive; it reached out to viewers, pulling them into narratives beyond the frame. Art was both an invitation and a challenge: see, interpret, feel.

Centuries later, advertising took up this mantle, crafting campaigns that tapped into human desire. Coca-Cola’s slogan, “It’s the Real Thing,” wasn’t about soda—it was about identity. It promised authenticity, connection, a place in something bigger than yourself. The ad’s genius lay in its simplicity, in its ability to resonate with universal human needs.

But this kind of enticement always comes with a question: Are we being drawn to something meaningful, or merely popular? Whether it’s art, advertising, or anything else that captures our attention, the onus is on us to look beyond the surface and ask what lies beneath.

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What’s Controlling the Choices You Make?

There’s a moment in Homer’s Odyssey that reveals the essence of human desire. As Odysseus sails past the sirens, their song drifts across the water, promising everything he has ever longed for. He knows it’s a trap; he’s been warned of the danger. Yet he cannot resist. Bound to the mast, he listens, consumed by the beauty and the peril of their song.

Enticement has always carried this duality: it shows us what we yearn for but doesn’t guarantee it will fulfill us. Plato warned of these distractions, describing them as obstacles to higher purpose. Yet, to dismiss enticement as mere temptation is to miss its deeper role. It’s not just a distraction—it’s a reflection of our inner world, our values, and our vulnerabilities.

Modern psychology offers insights into this pull. The principle of scarcity, for example, teaches us that we desire what seems rare or fleeting. Exclusive memberships, limited-time offers, even unattainable relationships—all exploit this instinct. These forces entice us, but they also hold up a mirror, revealing what we think we lack and fear losing.

To navigate enticement is to learn from it. It’s not about rejecting what draws us but understanding why we’re drawn. Like Odysseus, we must listen to the song without letting it destroy us. In the tension between desire and discernment lies the opportunity for growth.

Are You Trapped in a Cycle That’s Draining You?

We all get caught up in endless scrolling on social media. It’s designed this way—an infinite stream of images, videos, and notifications engineered to keep us engaged. A like here, a new follower there, and suddenly hours have disappeared. The pull is subtle but deliberate, crafted not to fulfill but to addict.

This is the dark side of enticement: when it preys on our vulnerabilities instead of enhancing our lives. Social media algorithms are the anglerfish of the digital age, drawing us in with promises of connection but often leaving us empty. Junk food and video games operate in much the same way, offering instant gratification while taking more than they give.

But not all enticements are traps. Recognizing the mechanics of manipulation empowers us to reclaim agency. When you understand how these systems work, you can decide when to engage and when to step back. Enticement, at its worst, exploits; at its best, it elevates.

The key is discernment. Ask yourself: Is what’s pulling me closer adding value to my life? Or is it simply keeping me in its orbit for its own gain? The power to choose lies in your ability to see the difference.

Why Do Some People Have the Power to Make You Feel Small?

Everyone’s met someone who we just want to be around. They have a presence that draws you in, not because they’re the loudest or most commanding, but because there’s something magnetic about them. It’s in the way they listen, the ease of their movements, the warmth of their smile. They make you feel like you belong.

This is charisma—a potent form of enticement that shapes relationships and communities. It’s what makes leaders inspiring, friends unforgettable, and strangers unforgettable. But like any form of power, it can be wielded for good or ill. True charisma uplifts and connects; false charisma manipulates and takes.

Relationships are built on these moments of enticement. The spark of attraction, the pull of shared laughter, the sense that someone sees you as you are. But lasting relationships require more than that initial magnetism. They need authenticity, mutual respect, and the willingness to grow together.

Charisma, then, is more than a tool for influence—it’s a bridge. It connects us to others in ways that can be profound or fleeting. The choice is in how we use it and how we respond to it.

Why Can’t You Shake the Feeling That Something’s Missing?

Experiencing art that moves you is like standing at a threshold. On one side is the world you know; on the other, a world you’ve never imagined. It’s not just the colors or the forms that captivate—it’s the way the piece invites you to step closer, to feel something unsaid, to confront something unseen.

Art is enticement at its most profound. It doesn’t just attract; it engages, challenges, transforms. Marina Abramović’s Rhythm 0 is a stark example. By allowing viewers to interact with her body using objects, she turned the act of enticement into an unsettling mirror of human impulse. It was not about beauty, but truth.

The power of art lies in its ability to ask questions, not just provide answers. It pulls you closer, not to consume you, but to change you. In a world of endless distractions, this kind of enticement reminds us of what truly matters: connection, reflection, and the courage to feel.

Why Does Peace Always Feel Just Out of Reach?

Something about spiritual locations always draws us in. The peace, the incense, the whispers—they create a stillness that feels like stepping outside of time. Sacred spaces invite reflection, offering not answers but the opportunity to ask deeper questions.

Rituals and symbols work in similar ways. The glow of a candle, the chant of a mantra, the quiet rhythm of breath in meditation—they entice not with spectacle but with presence. They promise no quick fixes, only the possibility of meaning, slowly uncovered.

This is a different kind of enticement, one that doesn’t seek to consume or distract. It guides, drawing you toward something deeper within yourself. Spiritual practices teach patience, discipline, and the value of looking beyond the surface.

In a world obsessed with instant gratification, this kind of enticement offers something rare: the chance to slow down, to go inward, and to find a connection that lasts.

Do You Know What You’re Really Being Drawn Toward?

Enticement is everywhere—a force as ancient as nature itself. From the garden’s vibrant blooms to the glow of the anglerfish in the deep, it reveals what pulls us closer and what lies within us. It’s not just a force—it’s a teacher, showing us our desires, fears, and vulnerabilities. But not all lights guide us home.

It’s a mirror, reflecting what we crave and fear. Some paths will nourish you, like the flower’s promise to the bee. Others will deceive, luring you into shadows with empty promises. The key lies in discernment: not rejecting what entices you, but understanding why it does.

Trust the light within you to lead the way. After all, the ability to harness this force isn’t something you need to find—it’s something you’ve always had.

Poets’ Corner

For the next month in Poets’ Corner, we’re showcasing writers from Oxford’s Undergraduate Creative Writing program.

This week’s prompt is Entice

Entice – Come hither!

Half off! two-for-one, buy one get one free,
It’s all the same but a craving takes hold.
The glowing, screaming words can’t be unseen.
Look away, march ahead, keep your purse closed.
Ooh but this sign’s lit with sequins and stars!
A quick looksie… examine and retreat…
no purchase… window-shopping has no charge.
Done! Easy! Cut a deal, closed a bargain-
one silk skirt, at half price. Wise! Provident!
Perhaps a silk blouse too, to compliment?
“Girls conquer the world with shoes”, said Marilyn
Pearls appreciate…so sound investment!
Yes, I’ve succumbed, but desire isn’t sin
It’s a virtuous serving of endorphins.

-Uttara

Final words

I find this question is a great trick to use when I’m drawn toward something—it’s quick and cuts right to the heart of the matter:

What does this really do for me?

It’s not about overthinking or solving everything at once. It’s just a simple way to reframe, giving you that 3% edge in the moment. Try it when you’re pulled toward something this week—you might find it changes the game.

I love you loads

R