We all have something we’re battling. We all have stories, have bad days, have brokenness, have fear. We all have something that hurts.
I remember feeling like the world was this uncharted map. But isn’t that what life is, really? Navigating the unnavigable?
Learning to quiet the sounds of the world and listen to what I’m actually feeling, thinking, and resonating with has been the single most important lesson of my life.
Perhaps there will be moments of solace in the chaos, where we are reminded that there is still purpose, still happiness, still love. Perhaps there will be peace, even amidst the wildness.
Maybe it’s when we learn how to die, we learn how to live.
Maybe it’s not about having all the answers, all the roads navigated, all the routes planned. Maybe, just maybe, love is enough.
What if we’re supposed to experience change, experience fear, experience all the anxiety that comes from stepping into a new role or down a new path? What if we’re supposed to not know who, exactly, we’re becoming?
Time feels obsolete lately. Like it’s running away. Like it’s slipping through my fingers and I’m a child reaching for a flying kite, trying desperately to hold on.
Our journey becomes not about finding answers but recognizing the meaning that is all around us—seeing and seeking purpose in the time we have left
How wild to be reminded of our smallness—that among millions of humans, we are so tiny. And yet, the time we have on this earth can drastically impact everyone and everything we touch.