Hello dear one...
I’ve been noticing how often people arrive at the Café just as something is beginning.
Not in a dramatic way. No fanfare. Just a quiet restlessness — a sense that something wants to move, even if its shape isn’t clear yet. Cups are stirred absent‑mindedly. People look out the window more than usual. There’s a feeling of standing near the edge of a thought.
Beginnings like this don’t announce themselves as certainty. They arrive as a tug. A repeated idea. A question that won’t...
