I Didn’t Know I Belonged Until Then
Lila reflects on a quiet moment of unexpected belonging — when the journey stopped feeling like a search, and became something softer.
Lila reflects on a quiet moment of unexpected belonging — when the journey stopped feeling like a search, and became something softer.
A myth about a door that doesn’t open to anything new — only to who you’ve become by choosing to step through.
A quiet field note about a dock that didn’t lead anywhere — but helped you leave something behind.
This isn’t the kind of leaving that needs a suitcase.It’s the kind that needs softness. Here are three things I carry when I know I’m stepping away from something I loved —not forever,but for long enough that I want to do it gently. 1. A Note to No OneFolded. Unlabeled. Written in a way only …
A quiet meal that didn’t ask for attention — only presence. Some food doesn’t wait to be served. It waits to be received
At a dock with no boats, Lila finds a river that has been waiting — not to take her somewhere, but to carry her when she’s ready.
A myth revisited — the Temple of a Thousand Names changes each time you return, because so do you.
A story about a closed Thai temple — and how it welcomed something quieter than footsteps.
A warm, chipped coffee cup. A soft echo. A moment that didn’t ask you to think — just to be.
A myth of the Boatwoman — who rows not to carry you away, but to help you notice you’ve already arrived.