I built a housefrom things I thought I knew —words, stories, prayers.I spoke them,desperate for them to hold me,to shield me from the shadows.But sometimes,what comesis silence.And in that silence,something stirs.Not a voice,not an answer —just the sensethat I’m not...
There’s this phrase.Ancient.Simple.Be still.And know.Notice — it doesn’t say,“Hurry up.”Or,“Figure it out.”Or,“Prove yourself.”It says,Be still.In a world that runs,scrolls,chases,achieves —this is a different kind of invitation.To stop.To breathe.To let it be.Because...
The table is where life happens.It’s where we eat.Talk.Laugh.Disagree.Make up.Say the hard thing.Say the beautiful thing.The table is where we return to each other.Where stories are told.Where silence is shared.Where memories are made, even when we’re not trying.It’s...
To leaveis to arrive.Strange, isn’t it?You walk away from something—a job, a place, a story—and suddenlyyou’re in new ground.Unsteady, yes.But sacred all the same.We think of leaving as loss.But sometimes it’s invitation.Sometimes it’s the first honest...
Taste pulls you into the moment. It’s immediate. It’s physical. It’s memory. It’s soul. A bite of bread. A sip of coffee. And suddenly— you’re home. You’re a kid again. You’re awake. Taste grounds us. It reminds us we’re here. It reminds us we’re alive. This...
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