A Small Scene of Growth.

This morning, while taking care of my strawberries, as the birds were singing softly, I got lost in my thoughts without even realizing it.

In a society where everyone seems to have to make noise to exist, to be seen, to justify themselves at every moment… I wondered if, by trying so hard to be seen, we weren’t losing a bit of the essential.

Strawberries don’t try to attract attention, they grow quietly, at their own pace, without comparing themselves. They don’t apologize for still being green, nor do they boast when they turn red. They’re just there. Present, in their cycle.

And I thought: Couldn’t we live a bit more like that, too? Let our ideas ripen without rushing them. Welcome our incompletions without trying to hide them. Accept that there are seasons where everything seems still… and others where things overflow without warning.

Why not simply learn to accept that some things need time? That silence is not a flaw, but sometimes another way of moving forward — gentler, more just — giving projects time to take root and bloom at the right moment?

And what if true strength was just that: moving forward quietly, but with faith?