Enlightenment Journal

I stood before the mirror in my living‑room corner, the only light coming from the candle on the desk. I adjusted my curls, slipped into my black dress, and let the quiet music fill the space. I began to dance—my feet moving to a rhythm only my soul could hear.

Two years ago, war pulled me far from home. Every night, I prayed, “Please keep them safe.” The sky seemed to listen. In the quiet after the prayers, I discovered a space for healing—a sanctuary away from world expectations.

One summer evening, my body felt cold and distant. The thought that I was dying, that my purpose was to save my family, hovered over me. Then the silence deepened, and I heard a gentle whisper: You need rest. The next morning, a warmth spread through me. It was rebirth, not death.

This “death‑rebirth” moment became my turning point. My body was telling me: Take care of yourself first. The healing journey became my lighthouse, guiding me back to my true purpose.

When I danced with my soul that night, I found my own rhythm—one that could carry me forward no matter how many storms came.