There’s a quiet ache in wishing for the next chapter before the present one has had a chance to root itself. The longing for what’s next begins to bloom before you’ve even exhaled into the fullness of here and now. It’s like standing on the edge of a story that hasn’t had the time to unfold, yet your heart already reaching for the pages that haven’t been written. The present feels unfinished, yet the mind is already hungry for change, for growth, for something different, something more. It’s as if you’re torn between honouring what you have, and the undeniable pull toward what could be. The beauty in the ache is that you’re alive, a tender reminder that life is in constant motion.
There are seasons where you find yourself suspended between the life you’ve known and the one that’s quietly calling you forward.
It’s a tender, often disorienting place—where your heart is filled with dreams that haven’t yet arrived and your feet are still planted in the soil of now.
The world tells you to move faster, to achieve more, to figure it all out. Something deeper in you knows: the soul doesn’t rush. The most meaningful transformations don’t happen in the doing—they unfold in the soft, slow space of unlearning and becoming.
This ache you feel—the tug for more, the longing for clarity: it isn’t a sign that something is wrong.
It’s proof that you’re alive.
That you’re reaching.
That you care deeply about living a life that matters.
Like roots growing underground, unseen but powerful.
This in-between season is not a pause—it’s a sacred preparation. An initiation. ❤️🔥
love & positivity ✨ phi
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