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My north-facing apartment has a balcony that relentlessly offers a green wave of freshness that soothes my mind regularly. Yes, I am talking about trees! April to October is the showtime of nature around me. Summer is like the green festival with the birds' musical concert and the butterfly's fashion show. It feels like an art festival where everyone brings out the best in each other by performing their best. Gradually, November starts the farewell process of nature's best artist—tree leaves become so fragile that a light wind can blow them far..far away. Every winter, I wonder about this dramatic change in nature, all those trees standing still in solitude, withstanding the torture of frigidness —how do they go through this grief every year and rejuvenate again? Can grief become endurable if it strikes cyclically? One remarkable thing that fascinates me most about the tree is its resilience from surrendering. In those brutal winter months, they become the epitome of trust ...
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Who are you to me?

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 I think the idea of giving an opinion about someone else's personality or behavior is more about us than the person. When I say that someone is very charming or moody or polite or ...... it's all about which version of that person found its way to interact with me and make me feel a certain way. Interestingly, when I find myself in a connecting moment with someone, the prospect of having a long-term relationship with that person piques me to search for a better version of myself to represent. On the other hand, if it's like a one-time communion, I let my mind and mood of that moment find the representable version of me. Something to think about further...🤔
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Finding the Right Place to Bloom

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    I moved to Maryland from Florida in 2020. This Peace Lily (shown in the picture) is one of the first plants I bought back then. I placed it near a window in my north-faced apartment. Somehow the plant didn't like the sunkissed place and used to be very unhappy—which I assumed after getting tired of not seeing the blooming for more than a year. It didn't die, but it also wasn't alive. I was optimistic enough to keep watering it regularly, sometimes more often than needed. Then, a few months ago, I moved it to another place, a little shady corner where the sun does not flirt with its shiny glare. To my surprise, the Peace Lily has found its peace—it started to bloom! The whole experience got me thinking, what if our life resembles this Peace Lily. Most of the time, we feel we are getting everything we need (like water and sunshine), and we should be happy with it. But deep inside, we barely survive. Maybe we need to find that corner where peace would flow naturally, and...
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