Reflection

Life is intentional. Not just the gala nights and the graduation photos and the "I made it" moments. The Tuesday morning. The walk to the kitchen. The way you choose to speak to yourself before the day starts. All of it. I've been thinking about how many seconds I've moved through on autopilot, treating whole days like placeholders, like the real version of my life was always just around the corner. Pending a bigger stage. A better outfit day. A good enough reason to show up

This past week, I buried two people I loved. Two funerals within days of each other, one for a woman who had lived a long and full life, and one for a young man who had barely started his. Grief is strange like that. It does not arrive the same way twice. When the older one passed, I was upset. Genuinely upset. But there was something underneath the sadness that felt almost like readiness; she had been sick, the family had carried the knowledge of her fragility for a while, a

Architecture and Mortality (2004) , Glenn Brown Have you ever watched or heard something completely unrelated to you and just shattered in tears and couldn't understand why? That happened to me last night. I was watching a reality show, completely minding my business, and something about someone else's story just cracked me open. And I sat there crying, confused at first. Why does this hurt so much? This isn't even my life. This isn't even my story. But then I realised. It wa