There comes a point in the journey where the heart softens—not from giving in, but from waking up. You stop trying to convince others to feel what you feel, to see what you see, or to meet you where you are. You begin to understand that everyone carries a different story, a different storm, a different kind of silence inside.

Emotions rise like tides, not to drown us, but to remind us we are moved by something deeper than logic. And just as the ocean does not ask the shore to change, we can allow others to have their waves, their rhythm, their expression—without losing our own.

Change doesn’t always come from words. Sometimes it comes from the quiet presence of someone who has chosen to live differently. To listen more. To judge less. To stay rooted in their own peace, even when the world around them trembles.

This is the practice:
To feel deeply,
To love without needing agreement,
To honor our path without forcing it upon others.

And So I Stayed

I let the wind speak louder than my need to be right,
And the silence hold space for what wasn’t mine to fix.
I watched the world spin its stories,
And chose to become still.

No need to correct, no urge to convert—
Only the pulse of truth
softly
beating
in my chest.

Let them feel.
Let them be.
And so I stayed—
Not to change them,
but to remain
changed.