Speaking less, yet saying more. Going with the flow, but against the grain. Self-assured, yet humbled by the ebb and flow of the simpler life she now lives - the one she's called to.
She truly values her peace and privacy. She no longer feels the need to remain entrapped by an online facade of who the world expects her to be.
So, she sinks deeper into her own rhythm rather than an algorithm. Embraces the kind of beauty only she can embody. The kind that cannot simply be seen by tired eyes scrolling through an endless void of pixels through shattered glass.
And as she sips her afternoon coffee on the second day of a crisp new week, she realizes that any day is the chance for a new life.
The opportunity to get unstuck or to stick to something new. She knows she is always free to evolve, change her mind, or start over. She doesn't need a new day or a new year to do these things.
She hopes you know this type of freedom is yours, too.
I decided to write this comment here because I didn’t want to comment on your newest post like within just hours after you posted it — and besides, I view these two posts as related, too.
I just wanted to mention “Quakers” — have I ever mentioned them before? I’m not a Quaker myself, I’m what they sometimes refer to as a “friend of Friends” (the name of the *organization* — insofar as there is such a thing — is actually “Religious Society of Friends”). There are actually *many* organizations … one of the important distinctions (from my point of view) is whether meetings are “programmed” or “unprogrammed”. I first started attending unprogrammed meetings as a student in Madison, WI. It was a very phenomenal experience. And I think it seems to be very closely related to what you are talking about with respect to “quiet”. Quakers wait. A lot. They wait so much that you can experience the quiet. At least “as far as I know” — because what I have experienced is *unprogrammed* meetings.
Oak & Vine 
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