A Quiet Flame
There was a time when I became fascinated by fire.
Not the kind that blazes.
But the small kind.
The quiet kind.
The kind that fits inside a small hearth and asks nothing from you.
Back then, my mind never seemed to stop.
Too many thoughts.
Too many worries.
Too many things left unfinished.
Sometimes nothing was wrong.
Yet inside, it felt as though a restless bird was trapped in my chest, constantly fluttering against the walls.
Later, I began lighting a small piece of Palo Santo in the evening.
I would place it in a tiny fireplace and simply sit.
Doing nothing.
Watching the flame slowly come alive.
Listening to the soft crackling of the wood.
Something about it always helped.
The noise in my head didn't disappear.
It simply moved farther away.
Like ripples settling on the surface of a lake.
I love the scent that rises from Palo Santo.
It isn't strong like perfume.
It doesn't demand attention.
It feels more like sun-warmed wood.
Clean.
Comforting.
Gently sweet.
Carrying a quiet sense of ease.
As the smoke drifts upward, I'm often reminded of childhood evenings.
The sound of leaves moving in the wind.
Distant voices somewhere beyond the trees.
The sun slowly sinking below the horizon.
The feeling that everything can wait until tomorrow.
Many people see Palo Santo as a ritual.
For me, it's something simpler.
A pause button.
A reminder that I've done enough for today.
And that it's okay to rest.
Feel
Warm Woods
Like timber warmed by sunlight.
Soft Resin
Naturally sweet and comforting.
Quiet Flame
A moment of stillness in the glow of fire and wood.
