✨ Intro for “Random Thoughts on My Walk”

Being in transition messes with me—no surprise there. I had a full-blown breakdown last week. One of those “cry so hard your face hurts” kind of days… followed by another day on the edge. It hit me: I feel so alone right now. And yet, somehow, not totally alone.

Out of the blue, my dear friend of 500 years called me. (Okay, maybe not 500, but close enough.) I answered the phone and immediately thought, Oh no… I’m gonna cry. And cry I did. Apparently, I had been holding on to a lot more than I thought. That conversation was everything. I’m grateful for it—and even more grateful for her. 💗

Truth is, I’ve got two friends like that. We live far apart, but they always seem to check in at just the right time. It’s wild how you can have a whole crew! Your family, people everywhere—but still wonder, where are they when it really counts? It’s never the ones you expect who show up when you need them most.

I first wrote this post in 2024, and rereading it now, I can see I was still trying to find my rhythm—still recovering from some deep, lingering trauma. It’s wild to think I had moved into that house back in 2021, and even years later, I was still holding my breath, waiting to feel safe. Healing takes time. Learning how to relax takes time. And now? I’m right back in the thick of it. A year later, I’m packing boxes again, living in temporary housing, and facing yet another round of change.

Egos are high. Emotions are higher. And me? I’m walking… trying to sort it out—one quiet thought at a time.

Skelly-🚚🤯

🌿 Random Thoughts on My Walk | Part One: The Poem

On a quiet stroll,
my thoughts begin to stir.
They drift through the cool morning air,
like leaves tumbling across my path.
These are the things that come to mind.

Random things…

I like routines.
They make me feel grounded.
They make me feel safe—
folding life into soft places,
giving me the known corners I need,
where I can breathe.

The ones I love…

Those ones that I love don’t always live in that rhythm.
They chase newness and exploration.
I linger in familiar spaces,
trying to understand
the rush of rearranged rooms,
new jobs,
changed cities.

Still, change calls to me in different ways.
To see new things during my morning walks.
To gather lessons
and finally put them in place.

In quiet moments where my thoughts wander—
searching, sifting,
tugging on memories…

God is whispering.

And I listen.

I’m learning not every thought
needs to be spoken.
Not every truth
needs my voice behind it.
Sometimes love is silence.
Sometimes strength
is staying still.

Random…

I wonder if sugar
is weighing me down
more than the words I don’t say.
And why a single drink
stirs something deeper—
not sickness,
but soul unrest.

Time to say it.

And what do I want now?

A home.
A place to belong.
A space to become.

The natural.
The meaningful.
The uncluttered.
Spaces filled not with trends,
but with memory.

Home, made sacred.

Skelly-

🌿 Random Thoughts on My Walk | Part Two: The Reflection

There’s something about a quiet walk that stirs the soul. My thoughts start to rise, like dust in the morning light. Today, routines were on my mind. I love them—maybe too much. They ground me, make life feel steady. But the people I love often thrive in the unknown. And while I’ve tried to understand that, it still unsettles me.

Change doesn’t erase who we are—it stretches us. A shift in space, a new job, a fresh layout of a room—it all gives us a chance to reset. And I need that sometimes, even if I pretend I don’t.

Lately, I’ve been trying to be still—to listen more and talk less. Not every thought needs a response. Not every disagreement needs my voice. That’s hard for me. But silence can be strength too.

I’ve also been carrying the weight of dishonesty. Twice now, I’ve been lied to. Small things, maybe, but they matter. I didn’t call it out—but I noticed. And it stayed with me. It’s hard to unsee dishonesty once your eyes are open. Still, I try to meet it with grace, even when it stings.

As I walked, my mind shifted to my health—how I treat my body. I eat well, move daily, take care of myself. But sugar and alcohol? Even a little feels heavy now. It’s not about hangovers. It’s a deeper discomfort. A spiritual unease.

Strangely, Jason brought up the same thing—without me saying a word. God’s been working in us both. He’s grown a lot. We both have. We’re not who we used to be. And that’s a good thing.

These days, I crave simplicity. Meaningful spaces. Fewer trends, more soul. I want quiet. I want real. I want home to feel like a reflection of what matters.

So, these thoughts—random as they may seem—aren’t so random after all. They’re pieces of something bigger. A quiet becoming. A steady unfolding. And step by step, I’m listening.

SK-

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