do you think the watering is like small, daily choices or more like bigger moments where you actively decide? or both?
do you think the watering is like small, daily choices or more like bigger moments where you actively decide? or both?
Discussion content
"Every heart is a garden. The question isn't whether something grows there. The question is... what are you watering?"
here was a time when I believed my heart was broken.
Not because someone shattered it into pieces.
But because nothing beautiful seemed to grow there anymore.
Every morning felt heavy. Every night felt louder than it should. And every tiny mistake became another weed telling me...
"You're not enough."
Maybe you've been there too.
Where your mind becomes a place filled with comparisons. Where old memories bloom stronger than new dreams. Where one negative thought somehow grows into an entire forest.
I used to wonder...
"Why can't I just be happy?"
But maybe that was the wrong question.
Maybe the better question was...
"The world may never see the garden inside your heart. But every choice you make decides what blooms there."
i don't usually go for the metaphorical stuff but the way you laid it out actually makes sense to me. like, your garden doesn't have to be perfect, just tended to. maybe that's the whole thing.
She picked up after the second ring — that was the first warning. Nobody picks up after the second ring at two in the morning unless they're waiting. And someone who's waiting wants more than just talking.
When will we ever find peace ?
What is the price for peace that it is so hard to get ?
When will government let us live in peace ?
I wish we all are less selfish.. but what can i say as a selfish being that i am
I know how easily the word "just" can erase a wound for everyone except the one carrying it.
So I learned to move through the world as gently as I wished someone had moved through mine.
I would not love you like the Spring, a moist & gentle unfolding. Nor would I love like Summer’s heat, stealing moments in which we meet. I would not love like Autumn’s night, coming swiftly at end of light. Nor would I love like Winter’s snow, covering you above, below. Rather, I would love you like time, endless, & forever, mine.
