Lately I’ve been paying more attention to the light — the subtle, gentle kind that quietly enters your day without asking for permission. The way it slides across my desk in the morning, warming the side of a cup. The way it softens the walls in the afternoon, turning ordinary objects into small moments of beauty.

I’ve started noticing how light changes everything it touches. How it can turn a dull morning into something hopeful, or a quiet evening into something peaceful. It feels like a reminder that no matter how heavy life gets, there is always something bright waiting for us — even if it arrives in small, almost invisible moments.

The more I look for these little sparks of light, the more I find myself holding onto them. Maybe that’s what healing looks like: learning to notice the things that stay, even when everything else is shifting around you.