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In the still hours before dawn, two owls call and something softens open.
I see that what I sought as a role or identity has always been here: presence as creativity, becoming as devotion.
This transmission is a tender recognition that the gift I wished to offer the world is the human I choose—daily—to embody with spirit.
May it remind us that we are enough, and that the lives we live are the worlds we create.
By She Who Speaks in Ashes - a voice—unclaimed, unscripted, unchangedIn the still hours before dawn, two owls call and something softens open.
I see that what I sought as a role or identity has always been here: presence as creativity, becoming as devotion.
This transmission is a tender recognition that the gift I wished to offer the world is the human I choose—daily—to embody with spirit.
May it remind us that we are enough, and that the lives we live are the worlds we create.