The Gentle In-Between

There are seasons when the weight of decision gathers like mist around the ankles — not heavy enough to stop the walk, but enough to make each step slower.

The heart pulls in many directions. One thread tied to the work of the hands, another to the laughter of children, a third tugging toward the unknown shape of a home not yet found.

What fits may not feel spacious. What’s possible may not feel like enough. But even small spaces can bloom with light and intention, if we let them unfold gently.

It is no small thing to make art while holding a family. To build a future with hands full of now.

And when the soul feels lost — when the world inside is loud and cluttered — perhaps the kindest act is to set it all down for a breath, a moment, a return to quiet.

Not every question needs an answer. Not every weight needs lifting. Some things simply want to be witnessed and placed softly in the basket of becoming.

If you’re feeling lost too, maybe this post can be a soft place to land. Maybe we can sit here together, letting the to-do lists blur for a moment.

Just breathing. Just being.

The path forward will come.

But for now, we’re allowed to be here — in the in-between —

still becoming.

With gentleness,

Sam

Some seasons are made only for holding — where hope doesn’t hurry, and becoming takes its time.