There’s something deeply poetic about how time moves—how it never stops, never waits, yet somehow carries us all, gently or roughly, from moment to moment. We often think of time as an enemy, especially when we feel like we’re running out of it. Deadlines, expectations, the pressure to be “there” by a certain age. But maybe time is not the enemy—it’s just the mirror. It reflects what we value, what we chase, what we fear losing.

We measure life in years, in accomplishments, in milestones. But maybe the real measure of a life is found in the spaces in between—the quiet coffee shared with a friend, the comfort of someone remembering your favorite song, the way your heart softens when you forgive, even when it’s hard. These are the invisible threads that hold our days together. Not every moment has to be big to be meaningful.

And maybe we won’t always know if we’re on the right path. Maybe the right path doesn’t feel right at first—it feels terrifying, lonely, uncertain. But courage isn't the absence of fear; it's the decision to keep walking anyway. We change, we stumble, we begin again. And that’s the beauty of it—we’re never just one version of ourselves. We’re constantly becoming.

So if today feels heavy, let it. If today feels confusing, sit with it. There’s no shame in not having the answers. Sometimes, the most honest thing we can do is whisper to ourselves, “I don’t know where this leads, but I trust myself enough to find