wild love

i am learning that wonder is not escapism.

it is remembrance.

for so long, i believed strength meant vigilance.

to survive,

to recover,

to care for others,

to lead,

to hold space,

i learned how to stay useful,

attentive,

responsible.

and those things mattered.

they saved me in many ways.

but lately, something softer has been calling me back.

the trees.

water on skin.

silence that does not need to be filled.

the strange holiness of being witnessed without performance.

moments of synchronicity that feel less like coincidence and more like Creator whispering, “pay attention.”

i think i am learning how to belong to my own life again.

this season has felt wild in the truest sense. not chaotic, but alive. vines instead of straight lines. intuition instead of certainty. connection instead of control. i am discovering that transformation rarely arrives cleanly. sometimes it tangles you first. sometimes it asks you to loosen your grip before it teaches you how to trust.

“let the wild love you back.”

that line stays with me because i have always known how to love outward. i know how to offer tenderness, devotion, presence. but receiving love from the world itself feels newer. letting beauty touch me. letting the earth soothe me. letting my body become something other than a battlefield or a tool.

there is a kind of spirituality that lives beyond explanation.

i find it in forests,

in ritual,

in laughter,

in uncomfortable eye contact,

in prayer,

in the nervous system finally unclenching enough to feel held.

i do not think i am becoming someone new.

i think i am becoming someone more inhabited.

more rooted.

more awake.

and maybe that is what wonder really is.

the courage to stay open while the world teaches you how to bloom.