I wrote this philosophical piece on public transit. I was inspired by the repetition of my commute — the same stations, the same faces, the same rhythm of departure and return. Somewhere in that motion, I began to see life itself moving in circles and hence this happened!!

❤️

There was a thread — nothing stronger. No chains, no beams, just a thread — delicate as a spider’s web, fine as silk, transparent as light. It emerged from the center of being and reached across the world to another.

The thread was born with the first breath — perhaps even before. It bound two hearts in a rhythm older than memory. It was that thread that made one sense another’s presence across distance, time, and dimensions — that quiet recognition beyond words.

Through this connection flowed love — steady, profound, and alive.
It moved through people, places, and time.
It shimmered through choices, kindness, and thought.
Love was awareness, purpose, and the ability to see, to give, to feel.

When distance grew, the thread trembled. When one ached, the other felt it. When silence widened, it pulled softly at the heart — as though part of one’s being were stretched across invisible space.

What was not yet understood was that the thread was never singular.
It connected many to many — a woven pattern of souls, memories, and meanings.
Life was not a line, but a circle — no beginning, no end.
Every separation was simply life finding its way back to itself — and to love again.

The wound opens the heart. It teaches humility — the awareness of how delicate everything is. Those we are connected to return in different forms, treading lightly across the soul, leaving traces like soft steps in sand. Forms change, but essence does not. The tenderness, humility, and connection learned along the way become a compass. The lesson — to tread lightly, to stay kind, to remain open — endures.

Even the word love changes meaning, yet the one who feels it remains constant. For when we awaken to it, the landscape that shifts is within — and the within and the without are reflections of the same circle.

Perhaps creation itself is love, and pain its echo.
Perhaps all who came before and all yet to come are movements within one great turning.

To see a world without boundaries — that is the awakening.
Love reveals consciousness.
Consciousness completes the circle.

And life — it is not a beginning or an end.
It is motion.
It is return.
It is circle.

The first awakening was realizing that you are a page in my book, and I am a page in yours.
The second awakening was knowing that you and I come from the same source.
The third awakening was understanding that you and I are one.
The final awakening was realizing that the thread was never between us — it was us.

And that was when my soul began becoming — again — because life is a circle — no beginning, no end.
Every separation was simply life finding its way back to itself — and to love again.

❤️