Dear slow mornings,
thank you for finding me — even on the days I forget to look for you.
You arrive quietly.
No urgency. No expectations.
Just a soft reminder that not everything in my life needs to be rushed.
You let my thoughts settle.
You give my heart a minute to breathe before the world asks it to be strong again.
You hold the version of me that is still waking up, still learning, still becoming.
With you, I don’t have to perform.
I don’t have to have answers.
I can simply exist — warm, unhurried, human.
Thank you for teaching me that peace isn’t loud.
Sometimes, it’s just the way sunlight falls on the floor.
The way my breath evens out.
The way my life feels when I stop trying to outrun it.
You’re my gentlest beginning.
And I’m learning to meet you with softness too.
—k
all my imperfects. 