A QUIET SHIFT

I’ve been thinking about how not all seasons are long or dramatic. Some pass quietly. Others begin without much fanfare. You look up one day, and something has shifted—but it didn’t come with a loud arrival. It just was.

Traveling these past weeks has given me a little space from the usual rhythm of things. Different light, slower mornings, unfamiliar sounds—it all helped me pay attention in a different way. I didn’t come home with a grand revelation. But I did come back with a sense that something new is beginning. It’s subtle. Gentle. But real.

I’ve been letting myself stay quiet within. Letting the art rest on the page a little longer before I name it. Letting the prayers stay unfinished. Letting the undone things remain so, without rush. And in all of that, I can feel something new forming. Not loudly. Not fully. But honestly. That’s enough for now.

If you’re in a place where you don’t quite know what’s next—but you feel a little stirring—maybe you don’t need to push it forward. Maybe just noticing it is enough. Not every season needs to be fully named to be real. Some begin in the quiet.