Reflections

A bad week doesn't cancel who you've been.
A bad month doesn't either.

The flame goes out sometimes.
Distractions pile up. Old patterns creep back. You lose the thread.

But principles don't disappear just because you stopped tending them.
They don't move. They don't spoil.
They sit there, patient, waiting for you to remember.

You can reignite them at any moment.
See things fresh again. Start living again.

The beautiful part isn't that you never slip.
It's that you can always return.

Not from scratch.
From where you left off.

The door was never locked.

The land is generous.
It offers more than we ask for.

We walk the known tracks and call it familiar.
But familiarity is just repetition with confidence.

Beyond the usual line of sight, the world keeps unfolding.
Rock falling away beneath your feet.
Water stretching past thought.
The horizon holding everything without effort.

The world was already complete.
Attention changes what’s revealed.

The unseen isn’t rare.
It asks for patience.

Nothing is revealed to those who rush past.

Consumption feels productive.
Most of the time, it isn’t.

Creation asks more of you.
It sharpens your thinking.
Exposes the gaps.
Forces you to choose what matters.

Watching keeps you on the surface.
Building pulls you under.

One collects information.
The other builds judgment.

Create more.
Consume less.

The full moon sits heavy tonight.
Bright enough to thin the dark.
Quiet enough to pull things to the surface.

Nothing dramatic happens.
But the body notices.
A memory stirs. A feeling rises without asking.

Under a full moon, wolves howl.
Not to be loud.
Not to be seen.
But because something inside them reaches its limit.

This light does the same.
It loosens what’s been held.
Not to demand action.
Just to be felt.

You don’t need to resolve it.
You don’t need to name it yet.

Some things only need space to move through you.

A symbol shows up where it shouldn’t.
Not on your usual path.
That’s when it feels different.

You can call it coincidence.
Or let it do its quiet work.

When you hold an intention lightly, your attention sharpens.
You notice more.
Leaves glow.
Blossoms stop you mid-step.

The danger isn’t in seeing meaning.
It’s in chasing it everywhere.

The point isn’t to decode the world.
It’s to stay awake inside it.

Some things don’t need explaining to matter.
They just need you present enough to notice.

Recently it feels like the trees have been updated.
Same shapes. Same places.
But something hums beneath the surface.

The leaves catch light like they remember something.
Greens feel deeper.
Edges glow longer than they should.

It’s not loud.
No announcement.
Just a subtle shift you only notice if you’re not rushing past.

As if the world quietly refreshed itself overnight.
And kept it secret from anyone moving too fast to see.

Some changes don’t ask to be explained.
They ask to be witnessed.

I’ve been asking the universe to show me Yellow-tailed black cockatoos.
For weeks the sky stayed quiet.

Then they started appearing. One. Then a pair. Then a whole shadow crossing overhead.

There’s a patience to this kind of thing.
You ask. You stay open. You let time do its work.

Most signals don’t arrive on command. They show up when you’ve slowed down enough to notice.

I sat in public waiting for friends. Normally I’d hide in my phone, filling the silence, avoiding the awkwardness of just sitting there.

But the sun was warm. People were moving. The world kept going without me doing anything.

And that was enough.

Not every pause needs filling. Sometimes it’s better to notice what’s already there.

Lorikeets are the F1s of the sky.

They flash past in a burst of colour and sound, faster than you expect, gone before you know it.

If you hear them, don’t wait. Look up. Notice.

Some things are only magic if you’re present enough to catch them.

On a climbing wall, falling isn’t failure. It’s part of the climb.

Everyone drops. No one points and laughs. You just get back on the wall and try again.

Failure in public is lighter than it looks. Fear is what gives it weight.

Anxiety says don’t try. The wall says progress comes through falling.