I used to fear the blank page… the silence of it… the way it asked me to begin again—without telling me how.
But over time I’ve come to see empty pages… differently.
They are not voids,
they are invitations...
Gardens remind me of patience… of tending to what you love without demanding instant reward.
Seeds disappear into the soil… you water them… you wait… nothing is promised… you wonder if anything will come of it…
And then, one day… a green shoot breaks through.
No matter how carefully we plan… how tightly we hold… or how many times we promise ourselves this time will be different…
Life is messy.
For a long time… I tried to fight it to smooth the edges… to appear unshaken… even when I was crying inside…
Perfection is predictable… It doesn't leave room for surprise… But the mess… is wild and mysterious… It reminds us that we're human… that we're still becoming… 🤍
Similar to when hikers climb a mountain, the golden rule is to not look at the far a way peak. but to look at the pieces of ground before us.
One step…
Then another…
That’s how we make
it anywhere worth going.
We live in the steps. In the small decisions that move us forward