"sometimes i think we’ve evolved too fast for our own hearts to catch up... we built cities before we learned how to sit with our pain. we created languages before we figured out how to say “i miss you” without shame. we invented electricity, crossed oceans in metal birds, stitched time zones together with glowing screens, but we still haven’t figured out how to cradle our own sadness without tucking it beneath layers of distraction. we got faster, sharper, louder — but not softer. and somewhere in this acceleration, somewhere between 3-second reels and unread messages, we forgot how to simply be.to be still. to be human..."
"... to be in a room with someone and feel them. not perform, not impress, not scroll — just notice. the subtle inflections in their voice when they talk about someone they miss. the warmth behind their sarcasm. the weight of their silence when something hurts but they don’t know how to say it. we stopped hearing the pauses between words. we forgot how to sit in those pauses without flinching... i’ve started watching people more closely — not in a voyeuristic way, but with reverence. i see how their bodies soften when they feel safe. how they exhale when they’re not being judged. how their laughter becomes less performative and more from the belly. how love makes us childlike again. and i think, maybe this is what we evolved for. not the skyscrapers or accolades. but this... there’s a grief that comes not only from what we lose, but from what we fail to notice in time. the subtle ways we betray ourselves. the moments we ignore our own yearning because there’s a deadline. the countless ways we silence our instincts for connection in favour of looking composed, efficient, successful. and we get good at it. we become masters at managing. we medicate with movement. we survive. but deep down, we know something’s off... maybe the point of awareness wasn’t to become more productive, but more present. maybe the point of consciousness isn’t optimization — it’s intimacy."
To loose a beloved, a Friend is stitched in our Beeing - wether to become wounded, or wise... and in choosing so, the stillness of your Friend arrives. Lessions to acknoledge, helded holy and honourable in showing you have to love yourself first. 🫂 i see you
“the scent of sandalwood and old pages in the corners of my childhood home. the slightly uneven stitch in the shirt my mother once mended for me. the way the light hit my father’s face during golden hour, casting soft shadows that made him look younger, gentler.” oh, how beautiful ❤️🩹❤️🩹
Wow. As a new mom to an 18 month old... this is so captivating of lessons learned through motherhood. Thank you for expressing these universal truths. What a beautiful thing to stay, to heal, to hold, to welcome the uncomfortable.
My tears rolled silently down my face as I read your words.
You know that moment… when you read something someone else wrote, and yet it feels like the voice came from deep inside your own chest. Like someone gently reached in, gathered the scattered pieces of your heart, and gave them a language.
Your words didn’t just resonate they remembered me.
They reminded me that I’m not alone in the ache, in the longing, in the quiet search for softness.
Thank you for writing this.
For making space.
For making me feel seen, held even in the invisible places.
remarkable in so many realms. a gracious loving gift to us.
this is unreal, so many truths packed into one piece. thank you for verbalizing.
thank YOU for reading amanda!
"sometimes i think we’ve evolved too fast for our own hearts to catch up... we built cities before we learned how to sit with our pain. we created languages before we figured out how to say “i miss you” without shame. we invented electricity, crossed oceans in metal birds, stitched time zones together with glowing screens, but we still haven’t figured out how to cradle our own sadness without tucking it beneath layers of distraction. we got faster, sharper, louder — but not softer. and somewhere in this acceleration, somewhere between 3-second reels and unread messages, we forgot how to simply be.to be still. to be human..."
"... to be in a room with someone and feel them. not perform, not impress, not scroll — just notice. the subtle inflections in their voice when they talk about someone they miss. the warmth behind their sarcasm. the weight of their silence when something hurts but they don’t know how to say it. we stopped hearing the pauses between words. we forgot how to sit in those pauses without flinching... i’ve started watching people more closely — not in a voyeuristic way, but with reverence. i see how their bodies soften when they feel safe. how they exhale when they’re not being judged. how their laughter becomes less performative and more from the belly. how love makes us childlike again. and i think, maybe this is what we evolved for. not the skyscrapers or accolades. but this... there’s a grief that comes not only from what we lose, but from what we fail to notice in time. the subtle ways we betray ourselves. the moments we ignore our own yearning because there’s a deadline. the countless ways we silence our instincts for connection in favour of looking composed, efficient, successful. and we get good at it. we become masters at managing. we medicate with movement. we survive. but deep down, we know something’s off... maybe the point of awareness wasn’t to become more productive, but more present. maybe the point of consciousness isn’t optimization — it’s intimacy."
thank you dani, really, thank you so much.
beautiful gor. we deceive ourselves believing love is earned. we are love and we struggle to feel worthy. thank you for sharing this piece with us.
To loose a beloved, a Friend is stitched in our Beeing - wether to become wounded, or wise... and in choosing so, the stillness of your Friend arrives. Lessions to acknoledge, helded holy and honourable in showing you have to love yourself first. 🫂 i see you
OMG, if I could pen my emotions this is what I would have wanted to say. Absolutely beautiful, heart wrenching, and alive. Thank God for your gift.
you are too kind, thank you 🤍
Me too...
“the scent of sandalwood and old pages in the corners of my childhood home. the slightly uneven stitch in the shirt my mother once mended for me. the way the light hit my father’s face during golden hour, casting soft shadows that made him look younger, gentler.” oh, how beautiful ❤️🩹❤️🩹
i love when people read through it all and tell me there favourite bit. thank you
in love with your writing. thank you for the reminder 💛
you are too kind, thank you
This is beautiful Goransh!
oh my god, thank you, you read it already <3
This heals something in me. Thank you 🤍
This was absolutely beautiful, it tucked me and made me cry. Thank you
Wow. As a new mom to an 18 month old... this is so captivating of lessons learned through motherhood. Thank you for expressing these universal truths. What a beautiful thing to stay, to heal, to hold, to welcome the uncomfortable.
In love with your work. For someone trying to understand myself better,your work just unravels me in ways I can’t understand. Thank you❤️
My tears rolled silently down my face as I read your words.
You know that moment… when you read something someone else wrote, and yet it feels like the voice came from deep inside your own chest. Like someone gently reached in, gathered the scattered pieces of your heart, and gave them a language.
Your words didn’t just resonate they remembered me.
They reminded me that I’m not alone in the ache, in the longing, in the quiet search for softness.
Thank you for writing this.
For making space.
For making me feel seen, held even in the invisible places.