Category: Notes from Life

No tree shoots up in a day. It starts as a seed, tiny and unseen. Then it roots itself. Quietly. Patiently. It doesn’t rush, but it doesn’t stop either. Each drop of rain, every hour of sun, every breeze that passes—it takes it all in. And one day, without even realizing, it’s grown strong and…

I used to think I didn’t like physical touch. For years, I associated it with discomfort, with feeling unsafe, with wanting to shrink away. I told myself I just wasn’t the kind of woman who craved closeness. I started to believe that something in me had gone cold. But yesterday, I had my hair washed…

There’s a quiet kind of shame we carry when we’ve been taught that our bodies are problems to solve. That every curve, every fold, every inch outside the narrow definition of “acceptable” is somehow wrong. For years, I looked at my shape and thought I had failed—at discipline, at beauty, at being enough. But the…

No one expects a tree to grow overnight. Or a lioness to know how to hunt perfectly the first time. Or a bird to build the perfect nest on its first try. In nature, everything takes time, trial, and tenderness. Parenting is no different. It’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking we have…

We often imagine that love will find us when we’ve finally gotten everything right—when we’ve healed all the wounds, figured out every insecurity, and become the “best version” of ourselves. But real love doesn’t wait for perfection. It begins when we show up as we are, whole in our imperfections, carrying everything we’ve lived through….

Sometimes we talk about self-love like it’s this big, sparkly moment—like you’ll wake up one day and just feel it. But real self-love often starts with something quieter and harder: self-respect. That means noticing the way you speak to yourself when you make a mistake.It means catching the voice that says, “I’m so stupid” or…

After everything you’ve been through, it’s only natural to feel a little hesitant. Maybe you’ve been hurt by people you trusted. Maybe life knocked the wind out of you one too many times. And now, as you think about starting again—whether that’s in love, in friendship, in a dream—you find yourself holding back, just a…

There’s something quietly sacred about watching My Octopus Teacher. No gods, no angels, no miracles—just a man, a camera, and a wild little octopus in a kelp forest. And yet, as I sat with it, I felt something shift in me. Not because the octopus was magical. But because it was real. Because it healed…

There’s something quiet but powerful about how rivers work. They don’t crash through the land in one big moment. They flow, little by little, day by day—wearing down stone, shaping valleys, creating new ways forward without asking for permission. That’s how I’ve come to see change in my own life. It’s not always loud. It’s…