There is a space between who I was and who I’m becoming. A wilderness. Unmapped, uncomfortable, and holy. I used to rush through it—fill it with noise, numb it with motion. But now I see it for what it is: a necessary silence. A sacred pause. The place where old names fall away and new ones are whispered. Not shouted. Not branded. Just… revealed. Today, I don’t run from the wilderness. I walk through it slowly. Barefoot. Listening. Because sometimes, the clearest vision comes not from seeing ahead—but from standing still.
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