Nineteen years ago today, I stood at the gates of eternity. Not metaphorically. Not in some dreamy, poetic sense. I stood there — suspended between breath and no breath, between the beating heart and silence. Between earth… and heaven. The cord of life has always been fragile — delicate as silk, invisible as breath. Mine…
Tag: writing
Storyteller
My phone just gave me another warning: Storage almost full. Again. I take a lot of photos. Not always for an audience, not to curate a perfect life, but to gather crumbs — breadcrumbs in the forest of my life. Each image a small, shining proof that I saw, felt, touched, loved. That moment mattered….
Miss You Most
When the lilacs begin to bloom and the forest floor turns into a sea of white lily of the valley, that’s when I miss you most of all. The air grows heavy with a perfume that drifts through my memories like mist through the birch trees, soft and persistent, calling me back. When your nights…
All I Wanted
When I was a little girl and someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I never hesitated. I didn’t dream of empires or careers. I simply said, “a mum”. That was all I ever wanted — to be a mother. Not just in name, but in the deepest, most wholehearted…
The Sacred Pause
To grow, we must rest. It’s a truth buried deep in the rhythm of life — so obvious in nature, yet so easily forgotten in the noise of our busy lives. But the earth remembers. Even the richest soil needs to take a break. Rest isn’t the end of life — it’s part of the…
Completely Alive
The night couldn’t be more perfect for a stroll along the beach. The breeze is gentle, and the sea mirrors its stillness. I inhale deeply, letting the scents of the evening fill my senses—the salty mist in the air, the refreshing scent of eucalyptus drifting from the trees nearby. My toes sink into the sand,…
The Joy of Writing
In the quiet spaces between breaths, in the stillness of the soul, there exists a flame that flickers and dances—a passion ignited by the mere stroke of a pen upon paper, or the gentle tap of keys beneath fingertips. It is the love of writing, an undying flame that burns brightly in the hearts of…
True Beauty
During my visit to the hospital to see my mum today, I shared an elevator with an elderly couple. They got off one floor before me. Witnessing the elderly gentleman gently take the lady’s hand and leave the lift together made my world pause. Holding the lift door open a bit longer, I observed the…
Apples of Gold 