The solitude that taught me to breathe

When the sun dips below the horizon and the last embers of the fire fade, a different kind of world awakens. Here, far from the city lights, the darkness isn't heavy—it is a blanket of comfort.

Lying beneath a canopy of a million stars, the mind finally stops racing. In this solitude, there is no need to run, no need to perform, and no need to explain myself to anyone. There is only the rhythm of my breath matching the wind in the trees. This is my meditation: realizing that I am small beneath the vast universe, and in that smallness, finding a massive sense of relief. The night restores what the day takes away, leaving me grounded, grateful, and ready to rise with the sun