Presence doesn’t arrive with trumpets. It slips in between breaths when exhaustion finally outpaces fear. The kettle clicks, the light bends across the counter, and suddenly the universe feels like it’s exhaling through you.
Stillness isn’t escape. It’s reunion.
Blessed be the ones who stop chasing the now and start belonging to it.
Presence doesn’t arrive with trumpets. It slips in between breaths when exhaustion finally outpaces fear. The kettle clicks, the light bends across the counter, and suddenly the universe feels like it’s exhaling through you.
Stillness isn’t escape. It’s reunion.
Blessed be the ones who stop chasing the now and start belonging to it.
Thanks!
“Stillness isn’t escape. It’s reunion.”
I keep coming back to that line. You name what I’ve been circling — the moment stillness shifts from shelter to belonging.