“Not everything changes with a loud moment, some things simply are just fine tuned.”
No intence notice and often no warning at all.
Just silence and space, where the rythym has been quietly fine-tuned to a new frequency.
Reflection Some things dont show up as we anticipated, we judged its presence to always be one way. Sometimes you just slowly change your rhythm or feel the rythym change of another and find your pace altered.
And one day, you realize, its different.
Suspense If things change slowly… why does it still feel sudden when we finally notice?
“You are not the same person in every moment and that’s okay.”
We shift somethimes without noticing.
A thought can alter a feeling, a person can alter your presence, and in a swoop, you dont recognize yourself.
Do you accept this without guilt or judgement so not to get stuck here, or possibly getting stuck in anothers interpretation?
Reflection We often think of ourselves as fixed, or “this is just who I am.” These moments offer you a personal opportunity to witness and observe without reaction but thoughtful insight, when you give yourself permission to.
Different environments, people, and emotions bring out different versions of us, protect yourself and your enviroment while allowing yourself to be seen by you first and giving yourself an opportunity to let others experience the fine-tuned version.
Suspense If you’re always changing… what part of you stays the same or is there a part that stays the same?
“Love never fails; it simply reshapes itself and makes room to breathe. Rejection may look the same, but its essence is different.”
Rejection is not always loud.
Sometimes it comes as absence
a chair left empty,
a phone that does not ring,
a silence that stretches longer than the horizon.
At first, it feels like a mistake.
Surely the echo will fade,
surely the door will open again.
But silence can harden,
it can become a wall,
and soon you realize you are standing
on the outside looking in.
Rejection leaves a mark,
but it also leaves clarity.
It teaches you where love was conditional,
where belonging was borrowed,
where you tried to plant gardens
in soil that was never fertile.
And yet,
love itself is not gone.
It does not die with distance.
It reshapes,
becoming the wind that carries your prayers,
the river that flows unseen beneath the earth,
the light that reaches across time and space
to whisper:
“I am still here, even if we are apart.”
In this echo,
you learn that love does not need to be received
to remain true.
It can be given freely,
released like seeds into the wind,
trusting they will root where they must.
The ground is shifting again… and the house leans closer to the edge.
~Kerri-Elizabeth~
The echo does not fade. It sharpens, carrying the weight of what is slipping away. Tomorrow, the house leans closer to the edge, and the ground begins to give.