It was a quiet Sunday morning. The light was golden, pouring through the windows with that particular stillness that makes you pause. I was journaling in my new notebook, one I’d been using for the past month, and as I closed it, I felt something stir inside me.
This wasn’t just any notebook. It had been placed on my chair at a Gestalt workshop, a thoughtful gesture among many. But something about this one was different. On the cover was a beautiful illustration of a woman walking into the sea, and on the back, she’s wrapped in a towel, stepping back into the world.
That image? It stopped me in my tracks the moment I saw it. It was me. Not in the literal sense, but emotionally, symbolically. It struck a chord deep within me, something familiar, yet forgotten. It made me feel both exposed and held. Seen. It reminded me of parts of myself I hadn’t let surface in a long time.




