Entry Three

Someone said to me recently,
you have to go through the dark to get to the light.

I don’t know yet if I fully understand it.
I imagine it will make more sense once I arrive wherever it is I’m going.

Lately, I find myself wondering about the darkness I’ve known beyond this lifetime.
What I’ve carried forward.
What was learned through other versions of me.
What walls were built — not as punishment, but as protection — to keep me from returning too soon to something I wasn’t ready to face.

There’s a strange peace in holding these questions without urgency.
I feel stronger now.
Not because I have answers, but because I’m no longer afraid of the spiritual unknown.
If anything, I’m curious.

Curiosity has become a practice for me.
A way of meeting life without hard edges.
When something rises — fear or joy — I try not to rush it into meaning.
I let it be observed.
I let it tell me what it wants to say before I decide what it is.

This feels like a different kind of light.
Not the kind you chase.
The kind that arrives when you stop bracing for what might come next.

So I’m staying here for now.
At the threshold.
Watching.
Listening.
Trusting that whatever is unfolding doesn’t need my fear to guide it.

—

The forest keeps this