Contemplations

We all have that loyalty card — the one we signed up for but never use, or the app we never bothered to download. It’s a symbol of our good intentions, always planned but rarely executed. This is a reflection on the gap between what we want and what we actually do.

Petty arguments often feel monumental. They're rarely about the food or coffee—they're about feeling heard, feeling seen. These tiny debates are practice in the relationships we care most about, seeking validation in the smallest details. Because, in the end, it's the little things that matter most.

Five more minutes. We all say it. We all know it’s a lie. It’s not a promise—it’s a bribe to ourselves. True change starts when we ditch the comfort of those extra minutes and get up, despite the discomfort. Because comfort never made history. Maybe it's time to get up. For real.

Why do I write? Is it just a habit? No—it's a calling, a necessity, a spark that refuses to fade.

We make grocery lists to feel in control, but once we're in the store, all bets are off. Gourmet chips, bakery smells, and impulse buys—it's all part of the journey. Life is a lot like that too. Plans are neat, but the best moments often come from coloring outside the lines.

The left-side edge of the couch: my throne, my creative den, my fortress of familiarity. Funny how a spot becomes so much more than fabric. A place for books, debates with the kids, and the kind of comfort that’s hard to let go of—even when I’m negotiating with a five-year-old.