Reflection

There’s a small moment from when I was about five that has stayed with me. We were neighborhood kids, playing one of those loose, imaginative games that didn’t need rules. That day, someone turned his balcony into a “ship,” and suddenly everyone wanted in. My sister was there too. This wasn’t one of those “big sister looking out for little sister” situations. We had our own circles, our own games. Sometimes they overlapped, like that day. Most of the kids on that balcony were her friends, not mine. ...

Recently our house hit a wall. Nothing dramatic. Just the quiet kind of tension that builds when everyone is tired, stuck, and trying too hard. My son was staring at a blank page, frustrated by a writing assignment. I was hovering between helping and worrying. My husband was pacing around unfinished chores. The room felt heavy — like everyone was carrying a private mental knot. Instead of pushing harder, we did something strange. ...