the holy mundane

There is a river through the city no one photographs, a river no one cares about. It is a strip of water too honest for postcards. I take it as my teacher. The river is a champion of mixed metaphors: the glitter of oil, a shopping cart tenderly rusting into coral, a heron like a thought that decided to happen later. I walk beside it until the day’s... See more

sometimes, when i’m sitting on the floor with zay, surrounded by half-eaten snacks and dog toys, i’ll catch this fleeting wave of awareness. it’s not epiphany-level or dramatic — just a small tug that says: you’ll miss this someday. and every time, it feels like a small act of rebellion against the culture of striving. to stop, to look around, to... See more

the other day, i caught myself scrolling through old photos — not the big ones like vacations or birthdays, but the blurry in-between ones i used to skip over. and i realized those are the photos that move me now. the ones where nothing was happening. someone mid-laugh, an empty coffee cup, the view from a car window on a random tuesday. i think... See more

you are the insistence of a heartbeat

that has carried you this far.

do not let your insistence on reaching the destination

blind you to the truth

of how much beauty lives in the journey.

for living is not something we arrive at once and for all. it is a practice. a posture. a willingness to keep waking up to the ordinary strangeness of things.