Soul Satisfied

The mug, warm in my hands, not needing to be a goblet overflowing with grand ambition, but simply this familiar weight, this gentle heat seeping in. The rain outside, not a storm demanding attention, but a soft curtain blurring the edges, a lullaby for the busy mind. The silence in the room, not empty, not a void to be filled, but a spaciousness, allowing thoughts to drift like clouds, unburdened by urgency. This small patch of sunlight on the worn wooden floor, not a spotlight yearning for an audience, but a quiet affirmation, a golden whisper of enough. The slow, steady rhythm of breath, not a race against the clock, but a grounding, an anchor in the present, where all that truly matters resides. Contentment, not a boisterous celebration, but a quiet settling in, a knowing glance exchanged with the still, small voice within. A profound peace found in the gentle unfolding of an ordinary moment. ©bfa050325