I used to think an action was enough.

I used to think growth was about getting stronger, faster, better.

What gives energy today might ask for it tomorrow.

Environments have a silent authority.

The pull to return to what is known can be strong.

There’s something seductive about having a plan.

I used to think there needed to be a blueprint, a tradition to hold on to.

I would host my own funeral. A living one.

When it came to writing my living obituary, my page stayed blank

Being a beginner takes effort.

Most things aren’t that important.

Nothing matched the map in my mind. And that was the gift.

The expectation of perfection, it turns out, doesn’t retire peacefully.

There’s a difference between visiting a place and being somewhere.

For as long as I can remember, silence has been my default.