Em
|There is a particular hush that lives at the edges of a threshold – that quietest of moments where the grip of the known world gently loosens, and the new one has to make a sound. I’ve been standing here for a while now, listening to the echo of everything I’ve painfully outgrown and the thrum of everything calling me forward.
Some doors open with ceremony while others crumble, leaving only an outline of you who once was; I’ve walked through a few times. I’ve clung to structures long after they stopped holding me. I’ve stayed loyal to versions of myself that should have been temporary; ones built for survival, not growth. But something small in me keeps whispering there is more, and it has been waiting for you.
So I’m stepping through. Not with urgency, not with fear, but with a reverence and a soft, steady knowing. The kind that comes from when you finally stop negotiating your own growth, and when you finally let go of what was holding you back.
Whimroot and the Grovebound Path aren’t side paths anymore. They’re the ground beneath my feet, the work that feels as easy as breathing, the place where my creativity, my ritual, my autonomy and my wild devotion to meaning all braid together. This is where I’m choosing to pour my energy now, not in fragments where I can or remember or borrowed hours with heavy eyes, but fully. I’m crossing the threshold with a clear head and an open heart. Some doors open, and others call – I’m choosing the ones that lead back to myself and the work I was always meant to build.
