Sometimes, it is okay to step away from reality.
Not because reality doesn’t matter—
but because it matters so much.
There are days when the weight of the world presses on the chest like a heavy coat that cannot be taken off. The news feels endless. Suffering echoes from faraway places, even when we don’t name them. War. Loss. Innocent lives caught in forces far bigger than them. Our hearts know, even in silence.
And yet—
we are still human.
We still breathe.
We still laugh unexpectedly.
We still reach for small comforts.
For a long time, I thought stepping away—breathing, giggling, celebrating—meant forgetting. As if joy was betrayal. As if rest meant indifference.
But wisdom whispers something softer: rest is not abandonment—it is renewal.
Life is short. Like steam rising from a cup you meant to drink slowly. Like seasons changing while you’re busy living inside them.
So we choose what we fight for.
Not every battle is loud.
Not every stand is visible.
Some courage looks like staying gentle in a harsh world.
Some resistance looks like choosing love anyway.
We speak when it matters.
We stand where we can.
And sometimes, we step back so our hearts do not harden.
Because a hardened heart forgets how to love.
There is something deeply human about gathering with family. About shared food, soft laughter, familiar traditions. About moments that remind us we are more than headlines and positions—we are people.
Festivities are not distractions.
They are reminders.
They remind us that joy can coexist with grief.
That love does not erase pain—it gives us the strength to carry it.
We are allowed to breathe.
We are allowed to giggle at spilled tea and inside jokes.
Laughter does not deny suffering—it steadies us.
