The Stranger Awaits
That unsettled feeling when something’s off and you can’t name it. A poem about the self we haven’t yet met.
That unsettled feeling when something’s off and you can’t name it. A poem about the self we haven’t yet met.
One of those moments that makes you wonder who really has it harder, the vagabond or you?
That moment when staying comfortable feels easier than moving. And why comfort is sometimes the most dangerous place to live.
A reminder you didn’t know you needed today that the person you’re waiting for is already here.
When you’ve already let go on the inside. You just haven’t left yet.
A quiet morning commute where the sun hits just right, and for a moment, everything feels like it’s going to be okay.
When you’re in a rough stretch and joy shows up anyway; unbidden, unearned, and exactly on time.
Many of us carry wounds from childhood long into adulthood. This is for the version of you that still needs to hear it’s okay.
Life rarely follows a straight path. But the fire in you doesn’t go out just because the road turns dark.
My father’s words echoed for years before I understood what he meant and what it actually costs to become your own boss.