Mentally, I’m here.
On a creaky porch beside a quiet river. Wrapped in the scent of pine and coffee. My phone’s nowhere in sight, and the only sound is pages turning and the occasional bird judging me for crying over fictional characters again.
The world slows down in places like this. It breathes softer. And so do I.
This is my fantasy: a good book, a hot mug, and a quiet escape from the chaos. No expectations, no deadlines, just stories and stillness.
Because sometimes healing looks like hiding.
And sometimes rest looks like reading.
What does rest look like to you? Where are you mentally today?
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