December.
Love, Actually
What is it about December that makes us want to slow down? As if time itself softens, and moments linger a little longer beneath the holiday glow — where every encounter feels like a gift, and every gentle gesture carries the quiet feeling of gratitude.
It’s been a while since I’ve sat down on a quiet afternoon to write — maybe because I’ve been enjoying being with my own energy more than putting my thoughts into words. But today, I want to capture my feelings the way a photograph freezes a moment in time.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about Love. For so long, Love always led me back to certain memories — to a place, to a moment, to a person. How foolish I was to believe that Love would vanish the day he left, or that someone else’s affection could fill the empty cup in my heart.
I often think of him still — the way his eyes softened, how his presence lingered. For the longest time, I thought Love was him. In every new face, I found myself searching for him — chasing the echo of memory, craving even the ache it carried.
Until I failed — again and again. Until I grew tired of searching, chasing, yearning. And then I realized: Love was never a person. Not a place, not a memory frozen in time.
Love is never merely a feeling — it’s undefined, and in that uncertainty, we begin to see clarity.
When I stop searching for a certain feeling, a person, or a piece of memory, I open my heart to possibility — to feel Love linger in a friend checking on me, in an early morning message, in the way someone holds my hands when I tremble, in a colleague sharing a sandwich, in the gentle ways humans touch one another — all beyond what I once imagined Love should be.
Love appears through the lens you choose to see the world,
Love echoes in the thoughts that linger in your mind,
Love reflects in the words you speak to yourself.
Like a breeze of fresh air, you breathe in the love of the universe —
found in nature, felt in every human encounter.
Like water, it nourishes every seed you plant,
flowing gently through the deepest cracks of your broken pieces.
Too often, we search for love in others — in moments, in nature, in the places we wander,
Perhaps that is why we forget,
To simply come back to our breath,
Because in stillness, in silence,
We begin to listen,
to the whisper of the heart -
Welcome Home.
To my dearest friend Mika, who constantly inspires me to write, I hope she believes in herself as much as she believes in me.
Until next time.
Loves,
Tracy.