Thoughts: (On Lightness)

heaviness pushes. fills the space.

asks for more—

more doing, more proving, more noise.

it stacks expectations like stones

on the softest parts of us.

it tightens the chest,

spins the mind,

until stillness feels like failure.

lightness doesn’t ask.

it arrives quietly.

in a breath,

in the pause between thoughts,

like morning sun slipping

through half-open blinds.

it holds nothing,

demands nothing,

just is.

heaviness clings.

it wraps around the ankles,

makes movement feel like sinking.

it whispers in the voice of fear,

tells us to hustle,

to earn rest,

to be more, always more.

lightness releases.

it lets the moment be enough.

it trusts.

it loosens the grip,

opens the hand,

softens the gaze.

it reminds us

we are already whole.

the world pulls towards heaviness,

with its noise,

its urgency,

its endless ladders to climb.

but still—

beneath the noise,

beneath the weight,

there is a choice.

choose lightness.

again and again.

not because it’s easy,

but because it’s true.