Life is temporary. A dot between two black lines.
I’ve been sitting with this thought a lot lately. Not in an existential way, but in that quiet, grounding way that puts things into perspective. One day, we’re here. The next, we’re not. It’s always been this way for each and every one of us. A quiet blink in the cosmic eye. A sentence on the page of the universe. And while that might sound grim at first, to me, now, it’s oddly comforting. It means the pressure is off. I don’t have to be perfect. I just have to be present. To show up, take a breath, and if I’m lucky, make that dot shine a little brighter while it lasts.
