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Lake
Mist drifts across the water, the world reduced to silence and breath. No need to move — the lake holds the sky, the heart holds the lake.
When do you allow yourself to be still?
What rises in the quiet you do not chase?
Stillness · Transformation · Fire
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Mist drifts across the water, the world reduced to silence and breath. No need to move — the lake holds the sky, the heart holds the lake.
When do you allow yourself to be still?
What rises in the quiet you do not chase?