– not with certainty, but with reverence, as one who has walked barefoot through doubt and learned the language of stones.

I see the beauty of life and the roots of my kind, lighting my path and defending my actions. I see the unseen with the eyes of my soul.

I see that becoming is not arrival, but a quiet, endless unfolding— a breath learning itself, a flame that does not consume, only warms.

I see my scars not as fractures, but as constellations, mapping the nights I survived when I did not yet know my own name.

I see that falling was never failure— it was gravity teaching me where my center lives.

I see time soften, shaping my body, my mind, memory loosen its grip, and fear bow its head before understanding.

I see love not as thunder, but as persistence: the hand that stayed, the light that waited.

And now I walk—not ahead of life, not behind it, but within it.

I see myself as I am.

And I know I am more than what my eyes can name.

I see the soul dwelling in the body— the ancient keeper of rhythm,

the one who teaches the heart how to beat, who turns darkness into a fertile night, an exquisite womb where stars are born.

I see it all: in pain and in joy, in laughter and in tears, in the deep sensing of this world where life reveals its true essence only to those who feel.

I see through the clouds in my sky as they soften the sun, and through the troubled waters of my life as they move, restless yet faithful, toward the shore.

I see and feel the shadow I once lived in— that hollow way of being — and I feel the returning tide of my love rising gently when I allow myself to rest inside the small, sacred moments.

I see my life, myself, my senses.

Now I see…