Series 12: Things You Don’t Owe the World: A Return to what’s yours
The Space Between the Old Ground and the Unseen Horizon
You have carried things that were never yours to hold.
This series is a gentle return to what you didn’t lose, but left behind.
There comes a time when
everything that once made sense starts to feel less certain because something
deeper has begun to stir, something that no longer finds comfort in repetition
or old definitions, something that no longer fits within the outlines once drawn
with confidence and ease.
The day may begin the same way,
with the same routines and faces, the same greetings and expectations, but
there is a growing sense that none of it lands in the same place anymore, as if
the words are still spoken but the meaning has begun to thin out, as if the
path once followed without question now asks for a kind of attention that was
never required before.
There is no need for alarm in
this space, no need to rush into a solution or to name what cannot yet be
described, because this experience is part of what it means to grow beyond the
outlines of the past, to outgrow a season that once felt solid, to start
sensing new direction without needing to map it all at once.
The habits may still be in place
and the responses may still arrive on time, but there is a tug underneath it
all that asks for something more honest, something with weight and substance, and
something that reflects the person who is no longer willing to move only by
momentum or memory.
This is the natural space between
one form and the next, and while the world may prefer clean answers and quick
transitions, there is a strength in staying with what is forming, even when it
cannot yet be seen, even when it cannot be explained with certainty.
What grows here does not grow
through effort alone but through the decision to keep listening, to keep
showing up with both eyes open, to stop pretending that the old version still
makes sense when something else has already begun to take root, not louder or
more impressive, but more real, more grounded in something internal that does
not ask for approval.
Those who stay with this stretch
of time, who meet each day without rushing to finish the sentence, who walk
without needing to label the path, begin to sense a direction that is not
borrowed, not shaped by pressure, but slowly built from within, drawn from what
matters most and shaped by a deeper kind of knowing that was always there, only
now beginning to rise to the surface.
You
don’t owe anyone your peace to prove your worth. Coming back to yourself is the
way forward.
Comments
Post a Comment