Just a kid—mischief in his eyes,joy spilling out before the world had taught him to edit it.We live in a different time now.We live in a performative age.filters and edits andhyper-curated lives.but a smile—a real one—it cuts through the noise.like analogue warmth in...
Look at the seal.Just lying there.In the sun.On the sand.Not rushing.Not proving.Not performing.Just… being.And that?That is joy.Not the loud kind.Not the flashy, Instagram-filter kind.But the kind that sneaks up on youwhen you finallyslowdown.Joy isn’t something you...
You open it —and there’s another.And another.And another.On it goes.Layer after layer after layer.Like life.Like you.You think you know yourself.You think you’ve seen it all.But there’s more.Always more.You are not finished.Not even close.Because you’re not just one...
The wild swan doesn’t explain itself.It just moves—quiet,strong,free.In old Celtic stories,swans show up as something more.Not just birds,but signs.Of something deeper.Something sacred.They glide between worlds.Seen and unseen.Spirit and body.Now and not-yet.The Celts...
Recent Comments