I don’t want to rush through mornings like they owe me something. I want to taste my coffee, not just drink it. To notice the way light filters through the blinds, how the day stretches its arms before it begins. I want to ask “how are you? and mean it, not just pass the question like a baton in a race. To listen without rehearsing my reply, to breathe before I reply at all.
I want to fold laundry like I’m caring for the life I’ve built, not racing through chores just to feel done. To feel the weight of what I carry— not just throw it in drawers. I want to choose. Not float. Not coast. Not autopilot myself into someone I don’t recognize. Because life isn’t just made in milestones— it’s made in dishes washed, in good mornings kissed, in choosing presence when distraction insists. So here I am— wanting to live like I meant to. Like even the smallest thing deserves my full yes. Like I know this moment won’t come again.
Shesdoinggreatthings 